Michelle Torres

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.

Feyre’s first Winter Solstice as High Lady is drawing near. With it will come a hard-earned rest from the work that she, Rhysand and their friends have done to rebuild the Night Court and the vastly changed world beyond. Yet the festive atmosphere can’t keep shadows from looming.

In my dreams, I never escaped the Oregon woods. Life after death isn't easy to accept, especially when I still feel like a ghost. Now, I live deep in the mountains of Montana—the paradigm of beauty. But they are also the home of horrors. Horrors that I only unleash at night. When my pigs are allowed to feast.

Feyre has returned to the Spring Court, determined to gather information on Tamlin’s actions and learn what she can about the invading king threatening to bring her land to its knees. But to do so she must play a deadly game of deceit. One slip could bring doom not only for Feyre but for everything—and everyone she holds dear.

Macon is the oldest. Thirty-one. Ex-Marine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile. Army is twenty-eight. A single dad with the most beautiful green eyes. He has no idea who he is, if not a Jaeger brother. Iron will be in prison soon. You’d never think it to meet him. He’s a nice guy, actually. But he can’t stop reacting to everything. Dallas is the one I hate. Twenty-one, cruel, and selfish. He takes and then throws away whatever’s left. And Trace is mine. Or he was for about two seconds. No one can tame him for long. Not that I ever wanted to.

Feyre has undergone more trials than one human woman can carry in her heart. Though she’s now been granted the powers and lifespan of the High Fae, she is haunted by her time Under the Mountain and the terrible deeds she performed to save the lives of Tamlin and his people. As her marriage to Tamlin approaches, Feyre’s hollowness and nightmares consume her. She finds herself split into two different people: one who upholds her bargain with Rhysand, High Lord of the feared Night Court, and one who lives out her life in the Spring Court with Tamlin.

We're not free to give into this. She's 19, and I'm 38. And I'm her boyfriend's father. Unfortunately, they both just moved into my house.

When nineteen-year-old huntress Feyre kills a wolf in the woods, a terrifying creature arrives to demand retribution. Dragged to a treacherous magical land she knows about only from legends, Feyre discovers that her captor is not truly a beast, but one of the lethal, immortal faeries who once ruled her world.

Having always done what is expected of her, Mila dresses the part, only dates college boys with exemplary backgrounds, and doesn’t ask questions. Not about her papa’s absences or his refusal to let her set foot in her birthplace - Russia. Suffocated by the rules and unanswered questions, Mila does what she’s always wanted to. She boards a plane to Moscow. She never expected to fall for a man on the way. One with unexplained wealth, tattoos on his hands, and secrets in his eyes. But it doesn’t take long for his caress to become a rough grasp muffling her screams.

Her dresses are too tight, her heels too tall. She laughs too loudly, eats without decorum, and mixes up most sayings in the book. Little do most know it’s just a sparkly disguise, there to hide one panic attack at a time. Nobody can crack Gianna’s facade...no one anyway, until he comes along. In the New York underworld, others know him as a hustler, a killer; his nature as cold as the heart of ice in his chest. Christian Allister has always followed the life plan he’d envisioned in his youth, beneath the harsh lights of a frigid, damp cell.