When it comes down to acclaim in the yearbook, my class rank would probably earn me my only entry, but probably very little else. I don’t wear cosmetics, do my hair, or really give a damn about my appearance in general. I don’t need to be cool, and I’ve managed my high school career navigating all the different groups from the nerds to the jocks to the theatre kids and the band geeks.

Emersyn Sharpe doesn’t belong in our world. In fact, the very last place she should be is with us. But someone is hurting her. We’ve all seen it. We tried to ignore the warning signs. We tried to trust the people around her. We tried to believe in her world. Too late. When she nearly died in front of us, we had to act. We took her. She doesn’t belong in our world, but I’ll be damned if someone lays a finger on her under my watch. I’ll kill them first.

Born into Hollywood royalty, I’ve been making the hot sheet and generating internet buzz since before I could even walk. Doesn’t matter that my parents divorced prior to my second birthday, I can’t escape the shadows—or scandals—of my movie star mother and my rock star father.

At any given time, there could be as many as 50 serial killers active. I’m looking for one. He’s been killing successfully for more than three decades. I suspect even longer. A year ago, the unsub’s methods changed. Instead of one or two bodies a year, five have been dropped. Either the unsub has a partner or he’s about to become a spree killer. It’s only a matter of time before someone puts the coin into the right slot and the kill song begins. Finding the unsub is my obsession. It was my father’s. He died without solving the mystery. I won’t.

I'm the princess to a dirty throne of motorcycles and madness, daughter of the president of the Death by Daybreak Motorcycle Club. My father's four closest officers—men dressed in blood and death and sin—they're my honor guard, cloaked in leather vests and tattoos. Only, there's nothing honorable about them at all. They're all wrong for me. Every motorcycle club has its old ladies. These guys...they share one. They share me .

I thought I’d hit rock bottom when I turned 16. The day I broke my first love's heart, ending things before I could ruin his career as a rock star. But damn, was I wrong. Things got progressively worse from that moment on, until now. Eight years later, when I find myself homeless, jobless, covered in blood, and running from a ghost of my past.

I had everything I ever wanted, until my life was flipped upside down. Now, I’m suddenly being forced to live in my parent’s hometown, with complete strangers. Like my heart isn’t broken enough. Could I fall any further? Yes. Yes, I could. Why might that be? The Allstars - Xavier Knight, Hunter Asheville, and Tobias Holmes - Asheville High’s prestigious star football players. They’re my worst nightmare. But damn...why do they have to be so mouth-wateringly hot?

Welcome to Emerson Grove. With our fantastic university, suburban lifestyle, and the city nearby, you’re never going to want to leave. I almost believe their slogan, until my ride drives off, leaving me on the doorstep of a pretty house to reveal a blast from the past. Leaving one lion’s den, I’ve fallen straight into another. I didn’t agree to this part. I didn't agree to…them.

After surviving foster care and a high school that breeds gang members and drug dealers, I've finally found my path to freedom: emancipation and a full ride scholarship at the ultra-exclusive Hannaford Prep. All I have to do is survive. After attracting the wrong sort of attention from the richest boy in the country, pissing off the hottest guy in school, and being humiliated in front of my favorite rock idol, I am now the target of the most popular, and cruelest, group in the freshman class.

Five years ago, I masterminded the infamous massacre of the Tri-state Timberwolves. The streets outside the Wolves HQ ran red with the blood of the old guard, and not one of those members loyal to my father were spared mercy. Not a single one. I let the media twist and distort the story. My new recruits eagerly proved themselves in spreading false news, in covering our tracks. To the general public, the Tri-State Timberwolves were extinct. But that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Today I start school at Pacific Prep. This is my new lease on life, and I won’t be wasting it. I need this, now, more than ever. I need the education, the promise of a future that I wouldn’t get anywhere else. These rich kids don’t like me, though. When Hawk Davenport decides he doesn’t want me here, his friends back him. Along with Hawk, Westley Warren, Cam Rutherford, and Mason Hayes rule this school...and nobody dares go against them.

As the daughter of Dracula, you would think I’d be born the perfect monster. You couldn’t be more wrong. As far as monsters go, I’m a screw up—if I’m not tripping over my own feet, I’m accidentally murdering someone (it’s a real issue, guys). Left with no choice, Dad decides to send me to Prodigium—otherwise known as Monster Academy—to train me on how to be a better monster. When bodies turn up on campus, I’m the prime suspect (not that I can blame them).

Break the new girl. That should be easy, right? Trash like her doesn’t belong at Burberry Prep. No, Marnye Reed is going down, and we plan to make a spectacle out of it. Let’s see who can make her fall in love first. Bet’s on. Any takers? Take on the filthy rich boys. They’re the idols of the school, veritable gods on earth. Old money. New money. A rising star. These guys are nothing like the ones at my old school. I might come from nothing, but I’m determined to be someone, and I won’t let them get in my way.

Suddenly thrown into a world representing bloodlines I know nothing about, forcing a past I refuse to remember into the present, my world is turned upside down. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t want to go to college; it doesn’t matter that I don’t want to be here. I’ll follow the rules or risk my life. The organization that runs the criminal underworld is no joke.

Moving to a new town to start college, where I can try to be normal. Or at least pretend I am. I’m willing to fake it, because I’m tired of trying to get better. Tired of spilling my guts to doctors and therapists to understand why I’ve heard voices since I was a child.