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Callum Walker kills people for a living. Although he doesn't get a say in who his boss puts on his list, he likes to hunt people who hurt children in his spare time. After a misunderstanding that leads Callum to believe Ryan Fairview—a local funeral director—is responsible for hurting one of the neighbourhood children, he finds his next target. However, Ryan isn't like other morticians. He can see dead people. So, when Callum breaks into Fairview Funerals ready to kill him, Ryan is shocked to find that his would-be murderer is haunted by all the people he's killed.

My uncle may be the boss of the Chicago Outfit, but there’s one man even he fears: Giovanni Guerra, who I was just sold to—as his wife—for an alliance...for power. The boss of the New York family is beautiful and deadly, and he stokes a fire in me that might destroy us both. He may believe he was sold a submissive mafia princess, but Giovanni Guerra will find I’m no one’s pawn. The only vow I make is one of lust and fury.

I’d been prom queen and cheer captain—high school’s most savage Queen Bee. I could have everything I wanted. Except them. The freaks, the weirdos, the school’s ultimate losers: Manson, Jason, Lucas, and Vincent. Our hatred for each other couldn’t keep us apart, not even when my own mistake got Manson expelled and made me the ultimate villain to the rest of them.

When you've been told your whole life that something is sinful, you have two options. Avoid it like the plague, like it has the power to destroy all that is good and pure. Or become as fixated upon it as Eve was upon that apple. I'm sick of the push-pull of terror and temptation. It's tearing me apart. I just want a bite of the apple. More than a bite. I want to devour it. Have its juices spill from my lips. And by apple, I, of course, mean sex.

The more she fights me, the more I want her. That beautiful, sassy mouth of hers makes me want to push her to her knees and dominate her. I'm a Russian arms dealer and she's an innocent college student who doesn't even know she belongs to me yet, but that will change when I yank those skimpy shorts down and spank her bright red. I will teach her not to show off what is mine. Then I will make her scream my name. I had no right to take her, but I dare you to try to take her from me.

She caught my attention when she shouldn't have. My sweet, little temptation has made it to the top of Santa's naughty list, and rather than a lump of coal, she'll be getting a collar and a prison of my making for Christmas. I'm about to wrap this beautiful, seductive gift up and devour her for the holidays. Who says Santa doesn't deliver your deepest, darkest desires?

It was an innocent mistake; she knocked on the wrong door. It was mine. If I were a better man, I would've just let her go. But I'm not. I'm a cruel bastard. I ruthlessly claimed her virtue for my own. It should've been enough but it wasn't. I needed more...I craved it. She became my obsession. Her sweetness and purity taunted my dark soul. The need to possess her nearly drove me mad. A Russian arms dealer had no business pursuing a naive librarian student. She didn't belong in my world. I would bring her only pain. But it was too late...she was mine and I was keeping her.

I used to believe werewolves were no more than scary stories to be told around a campfire. Then, one of them ripped off my clothes, marked me with his teeth, and claimed me like a wild beast.

I'm stuck in an uptown lobby while my dreams of making it as a model in New York hang by a single thread. Meanwhile, Olivier Arnaud lives his best life as a useless socialite, flaunting his wealth, his looks, and his privilege. His gaze taunts, and his nightly, condescending smirks burrow deep beneath my skin where I simmer with bitterness and hate. The day he asks me to deliver his mail directly to his twelfth-floor penthouse, he makes it personal, and the thread snaps—violently. With my hand around his neck, I feel alive for the first time in months.

Leaving the UK to start over in New York City seemed like a great idea in theory. But raising a child by myself has not exactly been a walk in the park, and this move has proven to be a challenge like no other. The last thing I need is this infatuation that I can't seem to get over. Abigail Lyons is nineteen years younger than me, way too pretty for her own good, and has made it clear in no uncertain terms that she hates my guts.

When Lillith Harper saves the life of the deadliest member of the Hellfyre Motorcycle Club, his appreciation quickly turns to obsession. The main problem? It's not entirely unwelcome, even when people around her start to turn up missing. Or worse—dead.

In my world, I take what I want. Even her. I'm her godfather. I shouldn't be pushing her down to her knees and making use of that sassy mouth, let alone tearing her clothes off, belting her bare ass, and then ravaging her virgin body as she screams my name. But I'll do all of that and much more as I teach her what it means to belong to a man like me. Because I can. Because she's mine.

Jessica Martin is not a nice girl. As prom queen and captain of the cheer squad, she'd ruled her school mercilessly, looking down her nose at everyone she deemed unworthy. The most unworthy of them all? The "freak," Manson Reed: her favorite victim. But a lot changes after high school. A freak like him never should have ended up at the same Halloween party as her. He never should have been able to beat her at a game of Drink or Dare. He never should have been able to humiliate her in front of everyone.

I left behind my family, my friends, and everything I've ever known for a chance at a new life–one where I wouldn't be under the strict, oppressive rules of the church. But now, I'm barely surviving in the harsh Chicago winter, living out of my car and saving every penny I can in hopes of making a better life for myself. So when a stranger saves me from certain danger and offers me a place to stay, I can't say no, even if he exemplifies everything I've always been told to avoid.

Kai: the bad boy I broke my rules for, who stomped all over my heart—twice. He’s arrogant, annoying, and, worst of all, he doesn’t even remember what he did to me. He’s also my new presentation partner. I want nothing to do with him, but the more time we spend together, the more I realize he’s not the monster I’ve made him out to be. I want to keep hating him, but it’s hard when he’s made it his mission to get me to like him. As if things weren’t messed up enough, enter Mr. Wrong.

As Father Magnus Falke, I suppress my cravings. As the headteacher of a Catholic boarding school, I’m never tempted by a student. Until her. I became a priest to control my impulses. Then I meet Tinsley Constantine. The bratty princess challenges my rules and awakens my dark nature. With each punishment I lash upon her, I want more. In my classroom, private rectory, and bent over my altar, I want all of her. There’s no absolution for the things I’ve done. One touch risks everything I stand for. My faith. My redemption. And even my life. As if that could stop me.

When three savagely sexy shifters told Tara she belongs to them, they didn't just strip her bare, spank her into shameful surrender, and then ravage her mercilessly. They bound her to their bed and made her beg for it first. But even as they force one brutal, desperate climax after another from their helpless human mate, she knows these feral beasts aren't going to be content to fill her with their seed one at a time. Soon they'll claim her all at once.

With the head of the Bratva determined to take back his daughter, and one of the brothers missing, Jessie and the brothers must act fast to bring him home alive. Still reeling from the revelations surrounding her family’s true history, Jessie is determined to uncover the truth. And when she can’t get answers from the man who claims to be her father, she must make a new ally of an old enemy. But when her true destiny is revealed, she is once again forced to choose between her new family and her old one.

I want to run a sex empire and be taken seriously in the old boys' club that is the business world. I want to be the poster child, not the plaything. So, I stay polished. Tasteful. Beyond reproach. Until Anton Wolff joins Alchemy. He's the UK's most charismatic billionaire, and he's looking for a club that's as discreet as it is debauched. As classy as it is carnal. I think I've seen it all—until he shares what he desires from his Alchemy experience. And what he desires, above all else, is me. I think I'm afraid of the Big, Bad Wolff.

I cultivated my shamelessness. I wore it as a badge of honor at my convent school, and I've been turning it into an art form at Alchemy, the club whose social media I manage. My boss, though? He's the most proper person I've ever met. No one would peg him as the finance director of a sex club. (I mean, no one's pegging him at all, which is probably his problem. #justsayin) I get it. He's a widower, single-parenting two little girls while holding down a massive job. He needs an outlet, something just for him.