Stay alive at all costs. No attachments, no looking back, no emotion. The last thing my father gave me was a key. No explanation, no details, just a key. The last thing he asked of me was to take the key to a set of co-ordinates. But survival in a fallen world filled with Feral isn't easy. The Fangs and the Claws, once upstanding members of society are now slave to the virus, hunting indiscriminately under a perpetually full moon. There is no hope. There is no haven. Not alone. Not until them. They are a new breed of monster—beasts of both fang and fur. Unaffected by the sickness, they crave only one thing, and it runs through my veins. Survive, my father said. Look out for no one except yourself. But sometimes the only way to survive is to make attachments. Sometimes the only way to live is to accept a dance with death. And right now, for me, the path to survival is in the blood. Here’s to hoping it doesn’t kill me. The Vampire Diaries meets The Walking Dead in this Post-Apocalyptic Urban Fantasy with a slow burn Why Choose romance

Take the journey, find the lock that fits the key and get some damn answers. Get from point A to point B. Stick to the mapped-out route and take shelter at the pre-planned times. It sounds simple enough, now if only we’d factored in getting attacked by djinn and having to take a detour through The Wilds. With obstacles at every turn, the last thing the fangs and I need on our arse’s is a new breed of Feral, but it looks like that’s exactly what fate us about to throw at us. This trip is going to be anything but dull, but with the Fangs as back up, I may just make it to the Bunker in one piece and finally get some answers. Whoever said road trips were fun can go suck it! The Vampire Diaries meets The Walking Dead in this Post-Apocalyptic Urban Fantasy with a slow burn Why Choose romance

It’s hardly a fair race when you’re racing against time. The Fangs and I have the answers we were looking for, but for me those answers come with a death sentence. But I’ll be damned if I got out easy. I’ll be damned if I go out before I can see our mission through. Just as I’m coming to terms with my fate, hope drops into my lap like a succulent fruit. But hope can be deceptive, and I’m not one for putting all my eggs into one basket. The mission must remain my focus, but with obstacles stacking up, getting to the finish line may just take some divine intervention, but the cost…The cost might be more than I’m willing to pay.

There is no pixie dust in faerie... In faerie The Hunt is the top of the food chain, and me? I'm the head of the viper, or so they tell me. But that's a lie. Something is rising, a dread, a fear that cannot be named, and I'm about to dive right into the thick of it. Now, if only I can get the guys and The Hunt to work together then maybe we can all come out of this unscathed. Join Eva and the guys as they adjust to life in faerie in this sequel novella to the For the Blood Series.

Stay alive at all costs. No attachments, no looking back, no emotion. I met Noah’s gaze steadily. “We all have our weaknesses. Yours is blood. Tobias just happens to be mine.” “Tobias? Your friend … or is he your lover?” My neck heated. “That’s none of your business.” This time Noah’s smile was wider, almost predatory, and a shiver of apprehension bordering on fear skated up my spine. He stood up and walked over to me, and I realized how the space between us had been a buffer, how the air was suddenly too charged. He crouched so he was at eye level, and my breath stalled in my lungs, but I kept perfectly still, refusing to shy away, to show weakness, to be afraid. His leonine gaze remained on my face, but his hand came up, fingers settling on the hammering pulse of my jugular. “No, Eva, that’s where you’re wrong. Blood isn’t our weakness. Blood is our power.” The Collection contains all three books and a sequel novella. For the Blood - book 1 For the Power - book 2 For the Reign - book 3 For the Hunt - book 4 (Novella) There is no hope. There is no haven. Not alone. Not until them… Survive, my father said. Look out for no one except yourself. But sometimes the only way to survive is to make attachments. Sometimes the only way to live is to accept a dance with death. And right now, for me, the path to survival is in the blood. Here’s to hoping it doesn’t kill me.