“Am I joining The Syndicate?”

“No.” His answer came with quiet amusement. “You’re doing something considerably more dangerous.”

“Oh?”

“Loving one of its men.”

Instead of standing, he lowered himself onto one knee between my legs and took my face gently in both hands.

“Look at me, Isabella.”

Something in the roughness of his voice made me obey.

His green eyes held mine, and hearing my name wrapped in that deep Irish accent made everything else recede.

“You’re safe,” he said.

God forgive me for what I’m about to do to the girl praying inside that church.

~Lucian Byrne, Eyes of the Unholy

For years, the dungeon beneath my bedroom taught me what happened to men who defied my father. Then they dragged in the Irishman—blindfolded, beaten, and chained—and, for the first time, the dungeon held a man who refused to beg, bargain, or break.

My father could hurt and humiliate him, but he couldn’t make him kneel.

For the first time in my life, hope had a voice—and it was Irish, furious, and defiant.

“Hey, Mr. Captain!” she puffed, weaving through the crowd. “You training for the Reindeer Games or something? Some of us have short legs, you know! Or do you just like dashing through the airport like you’re a one-horse open sleigh?”

~Captain Kol Vinter, Christmas Cancellation

A smile spread across my face before I could stop it. God, he was handsome. But it went deeper than that now. He was the only person on this earth I trusted without hesitation. Somewhere along the brutal path that had led us here, he’d worked his way into my head and my heart, my future without ever asking, and I didn’t mind one bit.

~Scarlett Hayes, Eyes of the Unholy

I was intrigued by this fiery-mouthed woman wrapped in freckles and flame. She stirred something within me, a hunger for redemption—mine and perhaps even hers.

~Dr. Atticus Thorin, Night Shift

And so I waited in silence for him to make the next move. It was a calculated risk, placing my trust in him, but after everything we’d shared today, this was just another step along the path we were now on together. And as uncomfortable as it was to let go, to relinquish control, something deep inside told me it was worth it to see where this journey with Mr. Captain might ultimately lead.

~Noelle Nichols, Christmas Cancellation

If Lucian had wanted me dead, I’d be dead. If he’d wanted to hurt me, use me, trade me, ransom me—he’d have done it already. Instead, he handled me as though I were breakable. As though I mattered. As though losing me would cost him everything.

And the way he’d looked at me when he told me I was pretty, it hadn’t sounded like a line.

It had sounded as if I were the very air he needed to breathe.

~Scarlett Hayes, Eyes of the Unholy

A Manhattan mafia man and a princess hidden inside a cartel compound on the side of a Salvadoran volcano should never have met.

Certainly not in a dungeon with me chained to a chair and her holding the key.

I would never call the lies, torture, blood, or loss that brought us here a gift. But chance no longer seemed big enough to explain how two lives that should never have touched had somehow collided in the darkest of places.