I cross the tracks every day for one reason - to graduate from this school and get into the Ivy League. I'm not ashamed of where I come from, my family, or how everyone at Marymount thinks my skirts are too short and my lipstick is too red. Clay Collins and her friends have always turned up their noses at me. The witch with her beautiful skin, clean shoes, and rich parents who torments me daily and thinks I won't fight back. At least not until I get her alone and find out she's hiding so much more than just what's underneath those pretty clothes.

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.

In fifth grade my teacher set us up with pen pals from a different school. Thinking I was a girl, with a name like Misha, the other teacher paired me up with her student Ryen. My teacher, believing Ryen was a boy like me, agreed. It didn't take long for us to figure out the mistake. And in no time at all, we were arguing about everything. The best take-out pizza. Android vs. iPhone. Whether or not Eminem is the greatest rapper ever. For the next seven years, it was us. She's the only one who keeps me on track, talks me down, and accepts everything I am.

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.

Hawken Trent. So polite. So sweet. Such an upstanding young man. A virgin, too, I hear. He never gets naughty with a girl. Probably because Jesus told him not to. And now here he is, trying to be the hero by protecting another girl from me. He calls me a bully. Irrational. Unreasonable. A criminal. He can call me anything he wants, I’ve heard worse. And he can try to stand between me and my money, but he’s never had to fight for food. That rich, clean, school boy doesn’t have what it takes

I see dead people, and not just the men I murdered. I'm in danger of being committed because I can’t tell what’s real from my hallucinations. Everyone thinks I’m crazy when the serial killer I jilted starts haunting my house. He assassinates any man who shows me interest, leaving their body parts under my pillow. During the day, his gaslighting destroys my peace of mind. But at night, he invades my nightmares and makes me crave the depravity.

Triple Falls wasn’t at all what it seemed, nor were the men that swept me under their wing. But in order to keep them, I had to be in on their secrets.⁣ Secrets that cost us everything to keep.⁣ That’s the novelty of fiction versus reality. You can’t re-live your own love story, because by the time you’ve realized you’re living it, it’s over. At least that was the case for me and the men I trusted my foolish heart to.⁣ Looking back, I’m convinced I willed my story into existence, due to my illness, and all were punished.

Bruised and abused, and victim to a loveless household, I shimmered with new life the moment he found me drowning my sorrows in a lake beneath the stars. A chance encounter. An unspoken connection. I was smitten. He was curious. But, as everyone knew, fate could be decidedly cruel. He called me Halley, like the comet. I called him Reed. And my best friend? Well… she called him Dad.

The Obsidian Order only cares about three things: secrecy, loyalty, and power. Every man born to the founding families is bred for this purpose, to serve the society and its objectives. As a result, we are the elite. Untouchable. Unbreakable. If we make it through the Trials. I will, as long as my obsession doesn't get the best of me. This girl… If the Order doesn't kill me, she'll be the death of me. Because I won't give her up. She's mine.

I was the girl no one looked at twice. Until they saw me. My whole life, no one has had my back. My parents are dead, my adoptive mother is a drug addict, and the mean girls on campus mock me for my scars. So when I end up desperate for money and out of options, I agree to sell the one thing I have left: my innocence. On the night I’m meant to give my body to a brutal Russian mobster, three men storm into the room like dark shadows and kill him before he can claim me. When they drag me from the blood-soaked bed, I’m certain they’re going to kill me too.

Barrington University is home of the Lords, a secret society that requires their blood in payment. They are above all—the most powerful men in the world. They devote their lives to violence in exchange for power. And during their senior year, they are offered a chosen one.

One, two, I'm coming for you. She's my obsession. Three, four, kneel on the floor. I want to possess her in every way. Five, six, I'm up to my old tricks. She knows me as The Portland Serial K!ll3r. Seven, eight, lay in wait. Little does she know I'm watching her. Nine, ten, never to be seen again. Welcome to your worst nightmare, Little Lamb. Who am I? Let me introduce myself. I'm Death. And I have found my Queen.

Who am I? I've forgotten the answer to that question long ago. Ever since I ran from that house, so desperate to escape, I left with only the clothes on my back and socks on my feet. After that day, I've only ever walked in stolen shoes.

I hate Dante Moretti. He is cold, calculating, and vicious. It’s no secret that he wiped out his former fiancée and her entire family on the eve of their wedding. He’s the kind of evil that makes even devils cry. But that’s not why I hate him.

It was dark, and in my defense, he was tall, muscled, and smelled like the most tempting sin. I couldn't resist, and the second he touched me, I knew I was never going to be the same. It was a night filled with the kind of intensity a woman could only ever dream of. Nothing could have tainted such perfectness. At least, that's what I thought. Because the delicious man I let rail me into oblivion isn't the perfect stranger I thought he was. No, he's anything but.

I cross the tracks every day for one reason - to graduate from this school and get into the Ivy League. I'm not ashamed of where I come from, my family, or how everyone at Marymount thinks my skirts are too short and my lipstick is too red. Clay Collins and her friends have always turned up their noses at me. The witch with her beautiful skin, clean shoes, and rich parents who torments me daily and thinks I won't fight back. At least not until I get her alone and find out she's hiding so much more than just what's underneath those pretty clothes.

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.

Hawken Trent. So polite. So sweet. Such an upstanding young man. A virgin, too, I hear. He never gets naughty with a girl. Probably because Jesus told him not to. And now here he is, trying to be the hero by protecting another girl from me. He calls me a bully. Irrational. Unreasonable. A criminal. He can call me anything he wants, I’ve heard worse. And he can try to stand between me and my money, but he’s never had to fight for food. That rich, clean, school boy doesn’t have what it takes

In fifth grade my teacher set us up with pen pals from a different school. Thinking I was a girl, with a name like Misha, the other teacher paired me up with her student Ryen. My teacher, believing Ryen was a boy like me, agreed. It didn't take long for us to figure out the mistake. And in no time at all, we were arguing about everything. The best take-out pizza. Android vs. iPhone. Whether or not Eminem is the greatest rapper ever. For the next seven years, it was us. She's the only one who keeps me on track, talks me down, and accepts everything I am.

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.

Barrington University is home of the Lords, a secret society that requires their blood in payment. They are above all—the most powerful men in the world. They devote their lives to violence in exchange for power. And during their senior year, they are offered a chosen one.

Ryder, Garrett, Kenzo, and Diesel - The Vipers. Their deals are as sordid as their business, and their reputation is enough to bring a grown man to his knees, forcing him to beg for mercy. They are not people you mess with, yet my dad did. The old man ran up a debt with them and then sold me to cover his losses. Yes, sold me. They own me now. I’m theirs in every sense of the word. But I’ve never been meek and compliant.

I'm addicted to my stalker. He watches me at night, sneaking in through my living room window and making my blood turn to ice. I feel him all around me as chills snake down my spine. Each night he becomes bolder, getting closer and welcoming himself into my bedroom, feeding his addiction.

NO LEAS ESTE LIBRO. ES ALTAMENTE INAPROPIADO. Si te gustó Corrupt, devorarás Hideaway, la nueva sensación del dark romance. Los escondites son secretos peligrosos; descubrirlos, mi pasión. BANKS. Entre las sombras de la ciudad, hay un hotel llamado Pope. Está abandonado y lo rodea un misterio olvidado. Pero, Kai, tú crees en la historia del duodécimo piso oculto, ¿verdad? Se dice que hubo un huésped que nunca se registró, pero tampoco se marchó de allí. Y crees que puedo llevarte hasta ese escondite, ¿no es así? Tú y tus amigos podéis intentar asustarme o manipularme.

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.

Calista belongs to me... she just doesn't know it. The first time we met, I wanted her. The next time, I was obsessed. I watched her. I followed her. It only deepened my need to possess her. Once she's mine, I'm never letting her go.

When a chance encounter sparks an unlikely bond between rival murderers Sloane and Rowan, the two find something elusive—the friendship of a like-minded, pitch-black soul. From small-town West Virginia to upscale California, from downtown Boston to rural Texas, the two hunters collide in an annual game of blood and suffering, one that pits them against the most dangerous monsters in the country.

When River McAllister escaped from Shallow Hill, she left her innocence behind—and some of her sanity. Now, she's rebuilding her life with her dream man, and life couldn't be better.

Triple Falls wasn’t at all what it seemed, nor were the men that swept me under their wing. But in order to keep them, I had to be in on their secrets.⁣ Secrets that cost us everything to keep.⁣ That’s the novelty of fiction versus reality. You can’t re-live your own love story, because by the time you’ve realized you’re living it, it’s over. At least that was the case for me and the men I trusted my foolish heart to.⁣ Looking back, I’m convinced I willed my story into existence, due to my illness, and all were punished.

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.