Erica

In the end...we all lose. How well do you think you know the Callahans? Yes, I'm asking you. Because I know you've been watching. The chaos, the violence, the love, and the madness - who could look away? Not me, for sure. My grandmother always told me...where you look is where you go. So I ask again, how well do you think you know the Callahans? Do you really think you understand Melody, Liam, or even Ethan? I have to wonder - will your mind be able to handle it?

Once upon a time… there lived a man with a vengeance-filled heart that held too many secrets and a woman, pure of soul, intent on uncovering them. What they failed to realize is that through the storm their love would create, a legacy would be born.

According to the FBI, I was considered a serial murderer after three kills. What do they call me after fifty-two? They call me the Silencer. One final bullet would have been all it took to stop me from taking another soul, and I would have been doing Meridian City a service by pulling that trigger. An angel crying for help stopped me, and that night, I took three lives for her. Then three turned into eight. Then eight turned into twenty. Twenty turned into twenty-one. Twenty-one turned into twenty-three.

Notorious Mafia enforcer and right hand of the Cosa Nostra, Maximo DiMarco has always looked out for me. He’s my protector. My brothers’ best friend. My crush—with the body of a god and the mind of a devil. And I am just a spoiled Mafia princess. At least that’s who most people think I am. They don’t look at me long enough to see the real me. But he sees....

The first letter arrived the day my husband was buried. It was postmarked from the state penitentiary, and contained a single sentence: I’ll wait forever if I have to. It was signed by Dante, a man I didn’t know. Out of simple curiosity, I wrote back to ask him what exactly he was waiting for. His reply? You.

Seven years have passed since I fell for Boone West. The brooding bad boy. We were friends, even when I secretly wanted more, but I settled for what he offered. After he left Wyoming - and me - I grew up. Moved on. Or so I believed, until he blew back into my life with the scorching force of an Arizona desert wind. I'm not that innocent 16-year-old girl anymore; I'm a businesswoman who swore never to settle again. But this older, wiser, hotter version of Boone unsettles me. How am I supposed to resist Boone's megawatt smile and his built-army-strong body?