Gwen Alexandra does not need a man in her life. Especially not a man who looks like Chris Hemsworth and Joe Manganiello's love child. One wearing leather, riding a Harley, and covered in tattoos. Gwen can bet every pair of her Manolos that Cade Fletcher is trouble. From the moment she meets him,
People make love seem complicated. Intricate. Novels try to capture its intensity; music tries to rein in its soul. I’ve read every novel I could. I’ve lived and breathed every song that I could listen to. The sounds fill my unquiet mind. Then he came. Killian. He brought with him the beauty of
Amy Abrams doesn’t do love. Nor does she do emotional attachments, unless you count the connection she has with designer handbags. She grew up in an Upper East Side penthouse, which had about as much affection within its tastefully decorated walls as Castle Dracula. Her family is the precise reason
I don't know what it's like to feel. To hurt. The ability was stolen from me in my youth. I consider that theft a gift. Feelings got in the way when you were building an empire. Amassing power. I had the empire. I had the power. One moment in an alley changed everything. What took over a
Gina: Freshly brewed tea. Earl Grey, loose leaf. Rain on the windowsills. The smell of library books. Escape into worlds greater than this. Solitude. Invisibility. A quiet life. Maybe boring, but boring was never dangerous. Until I saw what I was missing out on. Who I was missing out on. The man
He collected beautiful things. Rare things. Ripped them out of their natural environment and preserved them in all of their dead splendor. The problem was I wasn't beautiful. I was all of the hideous and ugly realities of the world packaged into one broken human being. He came to kill me. That was
