Cody

November 12, 1944. This house holds on to souls for a lifetime. I thought I had given it to my husband when I vowed to love him until the end of time. I lied. Nothing could have prepared me for the day my phantom appeared outside my window. He was terrifying, yet hypnotizing, and I couldn’t deny my intrigue. I never intended to fall into a whirlwind romance with my stalker. Especially because he’s so much more than that. A criminal. A mobster. The man who offers me solace from the monster in Parsons Manor. There are many that haunt these halls, yet it’s only my husband I fear.

It's their usual Thursday girls' night in, and best friends Skye, Elena, and London are enjoying hanging out at Skye's house in New Mexico, eating junk food, drinking wine, and playing with Skye's little children, Carter and Abigail. Until the intruders arrive. Hearing the horrific screams from Elena and Skye, London hides the children, tiptoes out to see what has happened . . . and disappears. After Carter raises the alarm, Detective Alyssa Wyatt is called in to investigate a bloodbath that appears to have no motive, no evidence, and worse still—no sign of London.

Charlotte, a mid-30s Long Island woman, has felt so alone since her promising career in neuroscience imploded. But she has an online support group; she has Rachel, a friend who has seen her through the worst of it; and now she also has Peter, a mysterious new boyfriend who has asked that their budding romance remain a total secret. That is why she is too scared to report his disappearance to the authorities when he van­ishes without a word.

Tess Strebel can’t recognize her own face. She can’t recognize her home. Her bedroom is unfamiliar. And she can’t remember the handsome stranger lying next to her in bed. A stranger who claims he’s her husband. Tess reads a letter in her own handwriting, composed during a rare lucid day, explaining her life as it now exists: she was in a terrible car accident one year ago. Every morning, she wakes up unable to remember most of the last decade. Including her own wedding.

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.

Erika: His name is Michael Crist. My boyfriend's older brother is like that scary movie that you peek through your hand to watch. He's handsome, strong, and completely terrifying. The star of his college's basketball team and now gone pro, he's more concerned with the dirt on his shoe than me.

Caleb is a man with a singular interest in revenge. Kidnapped as a young boy and sold into slavery by a power-hungry mobster, he has thought of nothing but vengeance. For 12 years he has immersed himself in the world of pleasure slaves searching for the one man he holds ultimately responsible. Finally, the architect of his suffering has emerged with a new identity, but not a new nature.

All around Albuquerque, New Mexico, young women are going missing, seemingly vanished into thin air. With no link between the victims, Detective Alyssa Wyatt is quickly plunged into a horrifying case with no obvious clues. And when Jersey Andrews, the best friend of Alyssa's teenage daughter, Holly, joins the list of vanished girls, the case becomes personal. But this investigation will lead Alyssa and partner Cord into the most sinister depths of humanity; an evil place where life is expendable and where the depraved can fulfill their darkest desires - if they have the money.