Troy Brennan Every southie in Boston knows that name. The son of a dead mobster. The heart throb with steel blue eyes. "The Fixer" who can make or break you in this city. Oh, and my new husband. Sparrow Raynes That's me. No one seemed to remember my name up until he barged into my life. But then he caged me. Kidnapped me. And killed every chance I had to runaway from the place where we grew up. Put simply, Troy Brennan clipped my wings. I have dreams, big ones, but I doubt he'd ever let me chase them. I have no idea why he'd decided to take me as his wife. But I do know this: pissing off this man will not do me any good. At all. Sparrow is a standalone, full-length novel. It contains graphic violence and adult situations some may find offensive.

Hunter I didn’t mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston’s nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family’s oil company. Little does she know, that’s not the only pipe I’ll be laying… Sailor I didn’t want this gig, okay? But the deal was too sweet to walk away from. I needed the public endorsement; Hunter needed a nanny. Besides, what’s six months in the grand scheme of things? It’s not like I’m in danger of falling in love with the appallingly gorgeous, charismatic gazillionaire who happens to be one of Boston’s most eligible bachelors. No. I will remain immune to Hunter Fitzpatrick’s charm. Even at the cost of losing everything I have. Even at the cost of burning down his kingdom.

Cruel. Coldblooded. Hades in a Brioni suit. Cillian Fitzpatrick has been dubbed every wicked thing on planet earth. To the media, he is The Villain. To me, he is the man who (reluctantly) saved my life. Now I need him to do me another, small solid. Bail me out of the mess my husband got me into. What’s a hundred grand to one of the wealthiest men in America, anyway? Only Cillian doesn’t hand out free favors. The price for the money, it turns out, is my freedom. Now I’m the eldest Fitzpatrick brother’s little toy. To play, to mold, to break. Too bad Cillian forgot one, tiny detail. Persephone wasn’t only the goddess of spring; she was also the queen of death. He thinks I’ll buckle under the weight of his mind games. He is about to find out the most lethal poison is also the sweetest.

“Maybe we were never meant for each other. But that night at the carnival, when you showed me who you were, I figured out who I wanted to be.” The most important thing I’d ever read was scribbled on the door of a portable restroom, engraved into plastic at a carnival on the outskirts of Boston. Lust lingers, love stays. Lust is impatient, love waits. Lust burns, love warms. Lust destroys, but love? Love kills. Maybe it was always my destiny to fall in love with a monster. When other kids stayed awake at night fearing the pointy-toothed beast hiding in their closet, I longed to see mine. I wanted to feed it, domesticate it, understand it. Sam and I were only allowed to love each other in the dark. Once our story unfolded, and the truth came to light, I was the one to cut the cord. My name is Aisling Fitzpatrick, and I have a confession to make. Sam Brennan is not the only monster in this story.

Emmabelle Penrose has cruised through life never needing a man, a plan that has worked stunningly well until about five minutes ago, when she decided she must have a baby. Devon Whitehall is 6’2” of premium DNA, financial security, and British royal titles. Best of all, he fears the one thing she dreads the most: getting hitched. Emmabelle figures it’s a no-brainer when Devon offers his services—sperm and involvement in her future child’s life. What begins as an innocent, modern-family arrangement, quickly erodes into a web of lies, dark pasts, and unfurled secrets. Inside this chaos, Emmabelle and Devon are forced to face the awful truth—they are capable of love. Even worse, they might feel it toward each other.