• Princes of Ash

    “To create is to reign.” The phrase uttered by the Princes of Forsyth is no longer a motto, but a harsh truth: I’m carrying the East End heir. My pregnancy announcement wasn’t the only bomb dropped at the Princes’ annual Valentine’s Day party. I’d revealed to the entire world that Rufus Ashby is an abusive man who rules his sons with a sadistic bent, terrorizing them into becoming the best soldiers a father can create. Turns out, I’m not the only one fighting for survival in this house of horrors. Whitaker– He’s beautiful and broken, and though my betrayal of him may be my biggest regret, he makes it difficult…

  • Princes of Chaos

    “Tonight embarks your journey as the vessel for the next great heir. Any woman can have a womb, but yours has been chosen.” He steps forward and presses a hand to my stomach. “Blessed.” When I received the invitation to the Princes’ masked ball, I assumed it was a mistake. Possibly a prank. Why would East End Royalty invite West End trash for an opportunity to become their Princess? The bigger question: Why would I take it? I was raised to be the Dukes’ Duchess, but that dream came to an end when they chose a different woman. I had everything it took to be a house girl, including my…

  • Dukes of Ruin

    The crowns of Forsyth Royalty aren’t built with jewels. They’re forged in blood and sacrifice. They say a parent should never pick favorites, but my d*ck of a father, Lionel Lucia, is no Ward Cleaver. He’s a Count—a King of Forsyth—and all he ever wanted was a daughter to marry off and a son to secure his legacy. My sister’s marriage to the leader of the Counts would keep him in control of his house. If he’d had a son, things would have been perfect. Instead, he got me. Too wild. Too rash. Too rebellious. I’m half as pretty as my sister, and twice as stubborn. I grew up under…

  • Lords of Wrath

    They hurt me, abuse me, use me… I signed up for it. Literally. I agreed to the contract that made me the Lords’ Lady, a position that requires me to do whatever they want, but only as protection from someone worse. I agreed to be in their beds, on my knees, and punished should I disobey. I just wasn’t expecting punishment like this. Killian is two-hundred-and-twenty pounds of muscle, brutal physicality, and pure spite. He thinks I don’t know that he watches me when I sleep. Tristian is fair-haired and charming to anyone who doesn’t know better. To me, he’s the man who seeks to control me, with his cold…

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