It’s the annual hunt for Sloane and her vigilante family of serial killers. Track the most cold-blooded psychos imaginable and take them down. This summer’s prey is Allan Munster, a churchgoing chicken farmer who slaughters more than fowl. The rules of the game: Divide into teams, devise a strategy, and make a move—the more cutthroat the better. May the best team win. The players are closing in. All eyes are on Munster. But there’s a hitch in the family sport this year. Someone might be watching them.

I'm addicted to my stalker. He watches me at night, sneaking in through my living room window and making my blood turn to ice. I feel him all around me as chills snake down my spine. Each night he becomes bolder, getting closer and welcoming himself into my bedroom, feeding his addiction.

The Obsidian Order only cares about three things: secrecy, loyalty, and power. Every man born to the founding families is bred for this purpose, to serve the society and its objectives. As a result, we are the elite. Untouchable. Unbreakable. If we make it through the Trials. I will, as long as my obsession doesn't get the best of me. This girl… If the Order doesn't kill me, she'll be the death of me. Because I won't give her up. She's mine.

Brutal, cold, and illegally gorgeous, Dante Sartorre isn't just mafia royalty. He's also the tyrant owner of the infamously deviant and members-only Club Venom. He's also my new husband. In my defense, I wasn't supposed to be the bride. But I sealed my fate when I saved my friend by signing the Venom Devil's marriage contract myself. Now, he owns me. All of me…

One evening, two years’ worth of memories lost. Under the pretense of recovery, my father sends me to an elite boarding college, but soon, my memories start rushing back, and it’s obvious I’m not at Lakeside to heal. I’m here to hide. Navigating the scattered past to decipher the threat lurking in the shadows is hard while I’m kept in the dark and even harder when he steals my focus. Crude, arrogant, and threatening, he draws me in, and the closer I get, the less I understand. Waking up without memories is terrifying, but remembering the time I lost is infinitely worse.

When my father passed away, I assumed my grieving would be as simple as closing a book and starting another. Only he had other plans. Leaving me his beloved tattoo shop, I’m stuck to figure out what exactly to do with it, all while being constantly reminded of him.

Welcome to the Lilydale Foundation Center... home of second chances. At least, that's what they tell us it is. It's basically a glorified prison and asylum for the deranged with good alibis. When the police pulled me out of my burning home, along with what was left of my Father, I was deemed broken — even if I was the reason the fire started. So, here I am at my new home. They think they can save us with their fancy facility. But what insane person decided it was a good idea to put a bunch of young, unhinged people together?

I caught the attention of a monster. I didn’t ask for it. Didn’t even see it coming. But the moment I do, it’s too late. Killian Carson is a predator wrapped in sophisticated charm. He’s cold-blooded, manipulative, and savage. The worst part is that no one sees his devil side. I do. And that will cost me everything. I run, but the thing about monsters? They always chase.

The average song is three and a half minutes long; those three and a half minutes could lead to a slow blink, a glimpse of the past, or catapult the soul into heart-shattering nostalgia. At the height of my career, I had the life I wanted, the life I’d always envisioned. I’d found my tempo, my rhythm. Then I received a phone call that left me off key. You see, my favorite songs had a way of playing simultaneously. I was in love with one man’s beats and another’s lyrics. But when it came to the soundtrack of a life, how could anyone choose a favorite song?

Never let them get you to the second location. Even if that location happens to be a lakeside mansion home to four hot-as-sin men. After years of living in survival mode, I'm finally hitting rewind on the story of my life. There's nothing standing in the way of my bright future at Lake Chapel University. Or so I thought.

Stone was my best friend. My protector. My everything. Until he wasn’t. Kids like us didn’t have the best life, riddled with trauma, bounced around in a system that didn’t want us and couldn’t handle us. In our darkest hours, we had each other. Until we didn’t. We tried to hold on to what little we had. Maneuvering the rough waters of our circumstance. Until I couldn’t.

In fifth grade my teacher set us up with pen pals from a different school. Thinking I was a girl, with a name like Misha, the other teacher paired me up with her student Ryen. My teacher, believing Ryen was a boy like me, agreed. It didn't take long for us to figure out the mistake. And in no time at all, we were arguing about everything. The best take-out pizza. Android vs. iPhone. Whether or not Eminem is the greatest rapper ever. For the next seven years, it was us. She's the only one who keeps me on track, talks me down, and accepts everything I am.

Triple Falls wasn’t at all what it seemed, nor were the men that swept me under their wing. But in order to keep them, I had to be in on their secrets.⁣ Secrets that cost us everything to keep.⁣ That’s the novelty of fiction versus reality. You can’t re-live your own love story, because by the time you’ve realized you’re living it, it’s over. At least that was the case for me and the men I trusted my foolish heart to.⁣ Looking back, I’m convinced I willed my story into existence, due to my illness, and all were punished.

It’s a ghost town, this place that haunts me, the one that made me. It’s clear to me that I’ll never outgrow Triple Falls or outlive the time I spent here. I can still feel them all, my boys of summer. Even when I'd sensed the danger, I gave in. I didn’t heed a single warning. I let my sickness and my love both rule and ruin me. I played my part, eyes wide open, tempting fate until it delivered. There was never going to be an escape. All of us are to blame for what happened. All of us are serving our own sentences.

Who am I? I've forgotten the answer to that question long ago. Ever since I ran from that house, so desperate to escape, I left with only the clothes on my back and socks on my feet. After that day, I've only ever walked in stolen shoes.