Unthinkable. Unbelievable. Inconceivable. I don’t recognize what my life has become. I can’t tell where the lies end and the truth begins anymore. He came into my world and urged me out of my safe little corner. All my dreams are coming true except the one thing I want most - my own happy ending. But I’ll fight for it. For now. For always.

Jury and Imogen Kilgore didn’t expect to bury their sister, Keira, and her family in New Orleans after the explosion of the Seven Sinners Distillery. As sisters, they had never agreed on much, but they now agreed on one thing: something didn’t seem right about this whole business. To cement their remaining sisterly bond, Jury insisted they get memorial tattoos, but the last thing they expected was their visit to Voodoo Ink to send them on a scavenger hunt through the city, orchestrated by their sister and her husband from beyond the grave.

I do what I want and who I want. I don't follow anyone's rules-even my own. I knew I shouldn't touch her, but it didn't stop me. Didn't stop me the second time either. Only made me want a third. My lifestyle suits the savage I am, and she doesn't. But Temperance Ransom is my newest addiction, and I'm nowhere near ready to quit her yet. I'll have her my way, even if it means dragging her into the darkness. Hopefully it doesn't kill us both.

He loves me, and he doesn't even know my real name. The limelight that follows him could expose everything I'm hiding. But even knowing the risks, I can't force myself to stay away. I'm going to break his heart, but mine will shatter right along with it. Will we lose it all when I reveal what's beneath this mask?

New Orleans belongs to me. You don't know my name, but I control everything you see - and all the things you don't. My reach knows no bounds, and my demands are always met. I didn't need to loan money to a failing family distillery, but it amuses me to have them in my debt. To have her in my debt. She doesn't know she caught my attention. She should've been more careful. I'm going to own her. Consume her. Maybe even keep her. It's time to collect what I'm owed.

The thing about ghosts is they’re supposed to stay dead. That’s exactly what I am, but I can’t stay away from Magnolia Marie Maison for one more day, let alone another year. We’ve already got 15 of those between us. As it stands, she’ll want to kill me as soon as she lays eyes on me. And knowing her, she’s completely up to the task. But I’m a man on a mission, and I’ve got everything riding on this. So, here I come, Magnolia. This ghost is ready for whatever you got. After all, there’s only one way I want this to end - ’til death do us part.

We come from two different worlds. I’m from the streets. She might as well live in an ivory tower. I made my living with my fists. I doubt she could even throw a punch. Our paths never should have crossed. We never should have met. That doesn’t change the facts. I would sell my soul to taste those red lips. Fight the devil himself to hear her laugh. Burn in hell to have a single night. Scarlett Priest shouldn’t even know men like me exist, but sometimes temptation is stronger than will. If this is how I go down, it’ll be worth every second of the fall.

One look at Jericho Forge, and I knew the rumors were true. He was a predator, and he had set his sights on me. I knew better than to bet more than I could afford to lose that night. I knew better than to bet myself. But desperation leads to bad decisions, and I thought there was no way I could lose. I was wrong. Now I have no choice but to make a deal with the devil....

Ten years ago, Whitney Gable caught me off guard with her long legs and grab-you-by-the-balls blue eyes. I didn't know or care what her name was. Like any Riscoff worth the family name, I went after what I wanted. We burned like a flash fire until she married another man. She hates me, and she should. I objected on her wedding day. Now she's home, with those same long legs and man-eater stare, but there's no ring on her finger. They say a Riscoff and a Gable can never live happily ever after, but I'm not done with Whitney Gable.

He's arrogant. She's self-righteous. I hate him. I want her. I've been turning him down for two years straight. Every shutdown makes me work harder. I'm not a one-night stand kind of girl. She doesn't realize I won't settle for only one night. He's a distraction I don't need. She'll say yes eventually because I'm not giving up.

We fell in love on a beach, got married in paradise, and rode off into the sunset. It should have been perfect, but saying "I do" doesn't guarantee a happily ever after. Two years later, I barely recognize either of us behind the walls we've built. It's time to bring it full circle. Back to a tropical paradise. Back to find out if we can still make this work. I'm not willing to give her up, but to save us, I have to risk everything.

I thought I was trying out to be the Zoric's newest model, but Luka was auditioning wives. The last time I saw Luka Zoric, he left me stranded in his bed. This time, I'm the one holding the cards.

I was upgraded to first class on a flight from London to New York. The food, champagne, and service were impeccable. The blue-eyed man sitting next to me, even better. He was suave and intelligent. We talked and laughed, and something clicked. Fate took over and the plane was grounded, and we had an unexpected stopover for the night. With no plans, we made our own.

The first time I met Hudson Rothschild was at a wedding. I’d received an unexpected invitation to one of the swankiest venues in the city. Hudson was a groomsman and quite possibly the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. He asked me to dance, and our chemistry was off the charts. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with him, considering the wedding I was at. But our connection was intense, and I was having a great time. Though the fun came to a screeching halt when Hudson figured out I wasn’t who I’d said I was.

Pretending to date my handsome new housemate was already a bad idea, but then I discover he’s no ordinary guy—he’s a mobster in hiding. And in this story, he’s not the hero, but the wicked villain. Rowan Miller isn’t used to hearing the word “no.” I guess when you’re 6’5, gorgeously tattooed, and sculpted like a Michelangelo masterpiece, women tend to throw themselves at you. But in a small town like Darkwater Hollow, a reputation as a womanizer will catch up with you—and your business—eventually.