My name is Monica. I’m a singer born and raised in Los Angeles. I’ve stopped dating. When I cut a record, or win a Grammy, maybe then I’ll be with someone, but every man in my past has done everything he could to make me submit myself to him, and it’s gotten in the way of my career. I won’t do it again. But there’s Jonathan. He owns the high-rise hotel where I work, and he is gorgeous and charming. I refuse to fall in love with him, even though when he asks me to submit to him, I want nothing more

This is the last book in the series. Take my hand, my love. On sinews of air we tread Aught but distance our guide With no tempo to our gait No endpoint drawn Neither plot nor plan By the thorns of a compass rose We bound toward the horizon

Mafia capo, Antonio Spinelli blew through my orderly life like a cyclone. Gorgeous and passionate, with a breathtaking brutality, he put me under his spell the moment he touched me, drawing me into his underworld of risk, violence and betrayal. And I found, just as this sophisticated savage didn’t trust me, I didn’t trust myself. Something happened to me. Some alchemy from the heat between us. I discovered I was a savage, too