For years, I pretended to be something I’m not. Drowning the beast living inside of me in copious amounts of alcohol and women. Not that I complained. And then Victoria Hughes walks back into my life and took me by surprise. The woman stunning me clear out of my mind the minute my mouth touched hers. After tragedy strikes and knocks her off her feet, I expected her to come to me, yet she didn’t. She pretended we’re nothing. But I see her. I’ve watched her, and she’s fighting grief while battling an all-consuming need for vengeance.

Meet the men of the rock band, Trained in Black. "Our someday will come soon, Joslyn." Those words were the last words I heard from Roman Nixon before I walked away. I knew our someday might come, but not the one he and I had always dreamed about. His life headed in one direction, mine in the other. While Roman became the lead singer for the successful rock band Trained in Black, I became a ruthless attorney. He moved on and married someone else. As I was forced to observe him and his bride on the cover of every magazine out there, I deserved to suffer because of what I had done.

Wes Silver wasn’t looking for love, but when July Mayson literally knocks him on his ass during their first encounter, his world is turned upside down by the quirky blonde, and every moment with her makes him more determined to protect her. July Mayson doesn’t understand the pull she feels toward bad-boy biker Wes Silver, but she knows being with him is like nothing she’s ever felt before. Now all she has to do is tell her overprotective father, Asher Mayson, that she’s found her boom.

If the Upper East Side had an evil twin, it would be Tickled Pink, Wisconsin. This run-down, backwoods town isn’t worthy of the footprint of my Louboutins, never mind all of me. But when my grandmother has a near-death experience and realizes we Lightlys can’t buy our way into heaven, she relocates the family to Tickled Pink to work on improving our souls. And that’s how I trade my heiress existence for gigantic bugs, dishwater coffee, and a cranky single dad named Teague Miller.

The night she showed up at my bar with a fake ID, I kicked her out. On her birthday, the following week, she showed up again. Except this time, she was demanding a job and willing to do whatever it took to get it. Against my better judgment, she got her way, but I'm not going to make it easy on her. Neither are the guys at my bar. I have two choices: Pretend she's mine to protect her. Or deal with the consequences when her five older, overprotective brothers find out what their little sister is up to.

I wasn't supposed to end up in an outlaw biker's bed. I wasn't supposed to love it. I definitely wasn't supposed to crave his fiery kisses, beg for his touch, or ache to know the man behind the evil-looking ink and scarred smirk. I was the good girl. He was the monster. Then everything changed. I became a prisoner. I prayed for Skin to save me. He did - and he kept me for himself.

The dirty little secret Dad left in the basement was supposed to be our salvation. Guess nobody told him you don't take cash from killers without savage consequences. Now the Grizzlies Motorcycle Club owns my sister and me. We're only alive because the rugged hulk with the piercing eyes who won't stop ordering me around says so. He saved us, but he's also an enigma I don't understand.

I just ran into the girl who got away. Holding a hate letter addressed to me. And now we're stranded in an elevator. Last time we kissed, it was final. I wasn't supposed to see her again. Not in this city. On this elevator. The moment it craps out, stranding us overnight with animal cravings and fencing lies. Last time we kissed, how could we know our next might truly, madly, beautifully restore us?

There's an animal in me that I keep hidden. Beth calls to him. She tempts the monster and lures him to the surface. I'm obsessed with her. I can't stay away, even when doing so puts my entire club in danger. Her blood is on my hands. I formed her to fit only me. I was her first and if I have to kill everyone in our way. So be it. I will be her last. She is mine.

Nila Weaver's family is indebted. Being the first born daughter, her life is forfeit to the first born son of the Hawks to pay for sins of ancestors' past. The dark ages might have come and gone, but debts never leave. She has no choice in the matter. She is no longer free. Jethro Hawk receives Nila as an inheritance present on his 29th birthday. Her life is his until she's paid off a debt that's centuries old. He can do what he likes with her - nothing is out of bounds - she has to obey.

No one is innocent in the eyes of Les Cavaliers de l’ombre. If your name ends up on my list, your time is up. No regrets. No mercy. No conscience. Until the enemy becomes my darkest obsession. Two days ago, I paid a price to fulfill a vendetta.

I know his type. Stuck up. Arrogant. The kind of guy who hasn't had to work for a damn thing his entire life. Even his name, Henry Caldwell III, reeks of privilege. And me? Well, let's just say I come with more baggage than a 747 and enough bullshit to fuel it. The problem is I want him. Crave him. It's the kind of pure, all-consuming, panty-soaking lust that can make a girl forget why she swore off men to begin with. He thinks I need saving. But this isn't a Cinderella story, and he's no Prince Charming. At least not mine.

My biological clock just exploded. Eighteen months. That's how long I have to make a baby happen before it becomes one more broken dream. Fate has a sick sense of humor, though. Its name is Hayden Shaw. Yes, the Hayden Shaw. Billionaire developer, scandalously gorgeous, his hard-headed ego only eclipsed by his enormous...reputation. He needs a bride to fool the world. I need a baby. It's simple business. Strictly professional.

His proposal came in a little black envelope with 13 unlucky words: You still owe me that favor, doll, and I'm cashing in. Marry me. In a normal life, I'd never get hitched to Calvin Randolph. Not with his heart-stopping blue eyes, infamous player reputation, and an ego bigger than the part of his anatomy he loves boasting about the most. Been there, done that. All except the last part, which he's left to my shameful imagination for seven years apart. Of course, the fake fiancée contract I just signed is anything but normal.

Once, I was nothing. Hungry, abandoned, wandering, and alone. An adolescent street rat fighting for crumbs. Then a chance encounter changed my entire world. A man in an expensive suit asked me how much my life was worth. I didn't have an answer because I didn't know. He asked if I thought it was worth killing for. Impulsively, I said yes.... He found me, then fostered me, and, in the interim, turned me into a killing machine.