Gladys Yamane

After the Priesthood wipes out my family, I find myself kidnapped and held prisoner by the head of the Bratva—a man as charming as he is terrifying. My days are filled with chaotic emotions and fear. With time, I realize Viktor Vetrov wants more than just my obedience. He wants all of me, but I refuse to fall for his filthy promises of ecstasy. The instant I gain my freedom, I run straight back to the Cosa Nostra. But I quickly learn that there are worse monsters in the world than the one who held me captive.

My family rules the world, and I always get everything my heart desires. Well, almost everything. Okay, so there’s one thing I can’t have: Luca Cotroni. Rude, arrogant, and demanding as hell, he’s the man I lust after and despise more than anything. After a wild birthday party where I clearly had too many drinks, I wake up next to Luca wearing his ring...a wedding ring. Who accidentally gets married to the head of the Italian mafia? Me. A bratva princess.

You never dream of anything because you don’t just get to stop working for the Polish mafia. But you can be stolen from them. Well, kind of. When Gabriel Demir, head of the Turkish mafia, attacks my boss, I’m caught in the crossfire. I’m taken captive, interrogated, and soon find myself in the position of maid again. Only this time, it’s for the Turkish instead of Polish.

All I want to do is look after my dad, so when I land the job of a lifetime that will take care of our expenses, I grab at the chance with both hands. Little do I know, the impossible will be expected of me. Slowly my smile fades and my laughter dies, until all that's left is the broken puppet my personal hell created. Liam Byrne, the head of the Irish mafia, returns from a business trip and I expect my hellish nightmare to increase ten-fold. Brutal, merciless, and dangerous, Liam is feared by all, even the monster intent on killing my soul. Turns out I was wrong.

Drowning in the murky waters of the mafia, I’m determined to find a way out. I have my sights set on becoming a film producer and won’t let anything or anyone stand in my way. Then my mother marries a retired Godfather, and I get the head of the Greek mafia as a stepbrother. Nikolas Stathoulis is set on ruining my well-laid plans. His ruthless reputation has me running for the safety of my apartment. But he’s always there. On campus. In my apartment. Expecting me to play by his rules.

Photographer Isla Wilson is thrilled she's landed her dream job, but the clients who hired her are getting stranger by the day. It sounded so perfect—a month's assignment at the lush Scottish Highlands property of architect Alban McGregor, and his wife, Jessica. But in the woods, there's a playhouse with a chilling history. Two years ago, the McGregors' daughter Elodie was abducted and then died in that playhouse. The townspeople insist her abductor had to be a stranger in their town. Alban refuses to knock the playhouse down, even keeping a picture of it on his wall.

The star of Marvel’s first Asian superhero film, Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, tells his own origin story of being a Chinese immigrant, his battles with cultural stereotypes and his own identity, becoming a TV star, and landing the role of a lifetime.

Hockey star Max Yearwood was everything I needed at the time - fun, sexy, up for anything, and only around for a few months, since he’d signed with a new team 3,000 miles away. Max proposed we spend the summer helping me forget my ex. It sounded like a good plan. Things couldn’t get too serious when we had an expiration date. Right? Though, you know what they say about the best-laid plans.

Never in my 40 years did I think my new normal would be gluing body parts back onto ghosts and hosting a houseful of dead squatters. Thank God for superglue and a strong stomach. Never thought I’d date the Grim Reaper and that I would be the one to blow it. I mean, how idiotic does one have to be to get dumped by a dude who lives in Hell? Going about business as usual is not usual in any way. No one is who they seem to be...and to be honest, neither am I. What I’d known to be true has turned out to be myth. The angels are frightening, and the demons are hot.

Thirty-nine was a fantastic year. I was married to the man I loved. I had a body that worked without creaking. My grandma, who raised me, was still healthy, and life was pretty damned good. But as they say, all good things come to an end. One year later, I’m a widow. My joints are starting to ache. Gram is in the nursing home, and dead people think my home is some kind of supernatural bed-and-breakfast. Gluing body parts onto semi-transparent people has become a side job - deceased people I’m not even sure are actually there.