Um. Um. Um. Are you reading this? If you are, I need your help. I was at a party; I was running; I fell. And get this - this is the part you'll never believe - I fell down a rabbit hole. Like Alice in those old books. Except in those books, there wasn't blood everywhere. In those books, the characters weren't all male, attractive, and interested in me.

One heroic act damned me for eternity. With a name like Tor, I should have been a hero, just like my father and twin. Turns out I’m not. Not even close. Instead I’m the very thing we hunted. A depraved monster. I thought there was no escaping the curse. No hope for a future. And then I met my mate in the unlikeliest of places: Blackwood Asylum. A place for criminals. Power-hungry madmen. Supernatural outcasts. And her, the curvaceous writer who sees ghosts.

I'm the princess to a dirty throne of motorcycles and madness, daughter of the president of the Death by Daybreak Motorcycle Club. My father's four closest officers—men dressed in blood and death and sin—they're my honor guard, cloaked in leather vests and tattoos. Only, there's nothing honorable about them at all. They're all wrong for me. Every motorcycle club has its old ladies. These guys...they share one. They share me .

I'm not so different from most people. Like everyone else, I have life goals. Goal #1: Become a real girl instead of this invisible ghost thing I currently am. Goal #2: Convince the four men I've been haunting for the past five years to pick me to be their new toy after goal one is complete. Goal #3: Figure out who/what I am and why I can't remember anything past the five years I've been haunting this quad. Goal #4: Eat popcorn. See? Perfectly normal. Sort of. Gotta start small, after all. It's not like anyone else is perfect either.

Amara was content to live as a lone wolf, the only one of her kind - or so she'd thought. Her world was flipped on its head when a strange man with a familiar scent showed up at her work, demanding a private meeting. Desperate to find the mate Luc had scented from 400 miles away, he was shocked to find her living as a lone wolf. Amaroki women were to be cherished and protected. What had happened to her family? More importantly, how was he going to convince her to return to the reservation with him? And how would his possessive brothers react when they found him with Amara?

Every beat of my heart is the tick of a time bomb, reminding me to squeeze as many thrills out of life as I can. A horde of nightmarish monsters jumping me in the middle of the night? Nope, that's too much even for me. So when three demonic figures leap out of the shadows to my defense, my choices are trust my unexpected champions... or die. Not exactly a tough decision. The beastly men wrench me away from my home, claiming they'll keep me safe. They say there's something special about me—something the others want to devour and they mean to protect.

Gather round close, for I have a secret to tell. Late at night, while everyone is sleeping, dreaming of white knights and fairytales. I'm making friends with the monsters. They call to me, like finds like, right? My biggest secret, I'm the scariest monster I know. I think I'm the bad guy.

Thrust into a new shifter world without enough time to adjust, Amara made one hasty mistake that could cost her mates their position in the tribe or break their happy family apart forever. But those struggles are eclipsed when demonic wolves threaten to take everything from Amara's family. She must fight to heal the rift she caused before it's too late.

One day, I was a regular college student, working a boring job and studying for finals - and the next, I was transformed into some strange creature of the night. Now, I’ve got powers I don’t understand, I can change my appearance with a thought, and I’m having all kinds of odd...cravings. If I thought all this was gonna get me out of going to college, though, I’ve got another think coming. Nope, I still need an education.

Being in the Guild is our life…or death. Not everyone is created equal, and not everyone is truly cut out for the work we do. It’s not pretty, it’s not glamorous, and it’s sure as shit not moral or good. The weight of the sins we carry can become too much for some, and they crack. When they do, they become a threat. No one quits the Guild. Not really. Either they cut a deal to make themselves useful in another capacity, or they get eliminated. But who, you might ask, can kill a killer? Who scares the boogeyman into running and hiding? Men like me.