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Chryseum Reformatory Academy aka the Asylum. This is where the rich send their screwed-up sons and daughters, delivering them to a prison in the Catskills of New York. The Asylum doesn’t cure. It camouflages, protecting old money from apples rotting on the family tree. They call me a psychopath, a lunatic, unhinged. But here, I am god. Now, say your prayers at the door, pet, because this is my senior year, my school, my world.

It’s my senior year at the Asylum. After this, it’s either college or padded walls for life. They say fake it until you make it, and I’ve gotten really good at faking it. Well, I was really good, until she came along. A blonde transfer student with a sharp tongue and a superiority complex makes me want to see her insides. They call me a sociopath, a maniac, unbalanced. But here, I am king. Repent your sins and beg forgiveness, baby girl.

A tortured antihero bound to a brutal contract. A broken heroine with a sharp tongue. A relationship that could save them both if she’ll allow it.

I loved her when she was just a splattering of freckles and big brown eyes. When she brought an extra sugar cookie just for me in the first grade. When our class goldfish died and she held me in front of everyone until I stopped crying. I loved her even more when she had another man’s baby. But I hate her for what she did. A chess move in a game of unforgivable sin. I hate myself even more for what I’m going to do to her. I wanted her gone, but I was the one who left. Now, I’ve returned and I have no intention of leaving again.

What do you do when your hand is forced? You fight back. You kick and scream and claw your way out of it. And when you can’t kick and scream and claw any longer, your knees buckle, and you give in to the weight of the world. I never wanted this for us. I never wanted to make her my enemy, not ever, not again, but we are both trapped, and only one of us ever had a chance.

I’ve ruled these grounds for three long years. I should have been expelled on at least six separate occasions, and those are just the ones I remember between the booze and the blackouts. I was a king known for a quick fuse and an even quicker right hook. But I promised Harlow I would holster my fists senior year. Some of my classmates bring out the worst in me though and keeping that promise is going to be harder than I thought. She’s the only tether on my wrath. Pull that tether too tight, and it will snap. Then Hell will unleash on all of us.

Ian Beckett, according to Harlow: He was the mean guy of Voclain Academy, the all-American quarterback and captain who ruled Voclain with a bloodied, iron fist. He was my gorgeous enemy turned my salvation. Then he was mine. But I worry I’ve unleashed the monster from the closet, and no way am I locking him back inside. Harlow Weathersby, according to Ian: She was the only thing unattainable I’d ever wanted, beautiful but with an bite, like a snowstorm come to life. Now, she and her smart mouth are mine. She is perfectly imperfect devastation. Your move, sweetness.

The Cultural Hoops Podcast is a self-made platform where you will hear different perspectives from a variety of guests on each episode discussing an array of topics in the sports and the music world. Specifically, this podcast will focus on the topics of all things happening within the NBA and in the genres of Hip-Hop and R&B. The podcast will convey a barbershop-talk type of nostalgia where you can expect to hear interesting and compelling debates and theories on relevant NBA and music topics.

The Thursday Club Podcast hosted by Luke, Grant, Alex, Josh, Konrad and Jordan

A tortured antihero bound to a brutal contract. A broken heroine with a sharp tongue. A relationship that could save them both if she’ll allow it. From Jordan Grant comes an enemies-to-lovers, 94,000-word romance that takes the listener on a wild ride of epic clap-backs, grade-A dirty talk, addiction, and loss.

At daybreak on April 6, 1862, Confederate forces launched a bold suprise attack on the Union army, encamped in southwestern Tennesse. The battle of Shiloh, also known as the battle of Pittsburg Landing, would prove to be the bloodiest battle up until that point in United Staes history. The two day battle would cost a staggering 23,000 casualties. Both sides were stunned at the appalling loss of life. At the time, neither realized that three more years of such bloodshed were still to come.

It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye ... or millions of dollars. This podcast drags mad geniuses and bold creators from every corner of interactive entertainment out of their comfort zones to answer the question, 'What the f**k were you thinking?' Expect brutally honest stories, creative courage under fire, and practical insights that’ll inspire (or warn) anyone daring enough to chase magic.

It’s spring semester, my last at the Asylum. Hydrotherapy. Electroshock. I’ve tried all the fringe methods. Still, they call me a sadist, a sicko, deranged. In here, though, I am lord. I found the new girl on her knees in the campus chapel. She must not have heard. Salvation is dead. Kneel before me, sweetheart.