The Star-Crossed Series

It seemed harmless when we met. He needed a nanny, and I needed a job. Badly. I was the only thing keeping food on the table and lights on in our not-so-happily-ever-after home. I thought working for Dominic Reed would be easy. I thought very wrong. It was the exact opposite of easy. In fact, it was impossible when he was my boss, and I was his employee, and fate decided it didn't care about professionalism or boundaries. It didn't care that I was ten years younger. It didn't care that I'd built the entire foundation of my adult life on the fact that love was poison and men were the devil.

I was the one stupid enough to hope for a happily ever after. It was my fault she was gone. It was my fault for being dumb, and being hopeful, and being in love. I knew better, and I didn't listen to my own warning bells. I'd been too deafened by Dominic Reed's love, and now others were paying the price. People I loved were in danger—my life was in danger—and we still didn't know why. We still didn't know who was doing this or what they wanted. Other than me. Me. A nobody. A girl broken from the inside out. A girl with a lightning temper and death-wish determination.

When I met Dominic Reed, I got my first taste of death and became addicted to its flavor, its potency. I died when I fell in love with him and his thunder. Now, the death staring me down isn't the pretty metaphorical kind, but the kind that chases you down until your heart gives out. All because of love. Stupid love that I didn't even understand or want, but feelings were nonconsensual little devils. Dominic had started that revelation. Blake confirmed it.