Anónimo

I’m the queen to a dirty throne of men and mania, a dissenter who's supposed to be a quiet accomplice to the Death by Daybreak Motorcycle Club. The four wicked men I’ve summoned are like the Horsemen of the Apocalypse—albeit dressed in leather and riding chrome stallions—and I’m the last judgement, bringing the end of the world as the club knows it. Only, it’s with my own hands bathed in blood and betrayal.

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.

Since the Final War, I’ve been doing just fine. I have a lovely cave, a darling vegetable patch, forest views . . . and if loneliness sometimes squeezes my aching heart, well, my books have always kept me company. That is, until a pack of hunters chase me from my home and right into the arms of several rather large, rather brutish ex-Army Rangers. And those brutes have the nerve to make me the rudest offer I’ve ever heard. Their protection—for my body.

Because while you're dreaming about what this dress looks like on your bedroom floor, I’m planning the best ways to dispose of your body. With dirt on my hands and blood on my shoes, I do my job without a single ounce of regret. You can judge me all you want, but back before the penthouse and the designer shoes, I was just another forgotten girl on the streets, running from demons. I went from unprotected to untouchable; from angel to monster. The forgotten girl who came from nothing became the woman who built an empire.

He was dark and handsome. Charming, older, and rich. She was the young and pretty girl, infatuated with a suave man who didn't exist. After leaving home and burning her bridges, Shelby Ann was cocooned in the gloss of high society— the devil in a suit at her side. But beyond acquiring the skill and poise to pull off being a trophy wife, she would discover that all was not as it seemed. With the honeymoon over, the dirt and grime seeped through the loving facade to reveal the monsters that laid beneath.

Blythe has accepted her fate and is tired of running. Who would miss her anyway? She attends her new and eccentric town’s month long Halloween masquerade for one last party before meeting her end. But what will she find...and what will find her?

A twisted heart, a hollow soul. A broken warrior, lost gods of old. A thief of shadows, blessed with light; a single lie which stole their might. A princess to win, in a brutal game. A great empire falling to a monster’s claim. A forbidden love, a curse untold. The last immortal trapped in a coin of gold.

I’m the prince of death. A son of carnage born of wicked deeds and sin-filled nightmares. Nobody understood me. Until her. My Spider. The wild girl I claimed from a sea of violent men. But others want her too. The enemies who lurk within my walls seek to steal her from my grasp. They’re my captives, but maybe they’re the answer to my greatest fear too. Because the Grim Reaper shadows every move I make, and he’s always watching her.

There’s one thing they don’t tell you about men without souls when they’re cast into damnation. Once we make a home for ourselves in hell, there’s nothing left to fear from life. And a man without fear is a man without limits. I hadn't had any limits in 10 long years.

Cyril, Isaac, Ashe, Ezra, and Arlo call themselves the Lost Boys, and they’re just one branch of a "family" that rules everything in the city I grew up in. They’re the bad guys, in every sense of the word, and they don’t care who knows it. Worse? They want to show me all of their sharp, bloody edges. After a vacation gone wrong, the Lost Boys tell me that they’re the only reason I made it out alive.