How could there be a God?

I wanted to believe. I needed to believe. But when the holy were the abusers, when the righteous sold their children, when the system protected predators—what kind of God allowed that?

The devil outside that door had never lied to me.

He was the type of man I should fear, should hate—but I couldn’t.

He never pretended to be anything he wasn’t.

~Scarlett Hayes, Eyes of the Unholy

“You should probably scare me a lot more than you do,” I whispered. “Instead, I keep finding reasons to like you. I’m beginning to think there may be something wrong with my judgment.”

The standoff continued, a silent battle of wills under the starlit sky. In that moment, everything that had transpired between us—all the tension, the unspoken grievances—seemed to crystalize. This was more than just a breach of his precious rules; it was a clash of our very natures, a collision course that had been set in motion from the moment our lives had become entangled.

~Samantha Sheridan, Night Shift

Noelle was a challenge I couldn’t refuse, an adventure that would either be the best damn thing I’d ever experienced or would blow up spectacularly in my face.

~Captain Kol Vinter, Christmas Cancellation

I didn’t want to share.

Didn’t want to let her go.

I wanted Isabella Eliana Duarte in my bed, in my life, and eventually wearing my fucking name.

Selfish?

Absolutely.

I’d worry about that tomorrow.

Tonight, she was mine.

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.

In that split second when I locked eyes with this devastatingly lethal masterpiece of untamed beauty—mine searching to understand, hers hardened in resolve—I knew one thing with absolute clarity: she wasn’t the kind of woman a man walked away from unscathed. She fought like a demon, looked like a damn dream, and if I had any sense, I’d focus on survival instead of how much I wanted to pin her down for entirely different reasons. Whether I made it out of this fight or not, I was already a goner. She wasn’t just dangerous—she was the kind of trouble men lost themselves in.

~Braxton Thorin, Mission Shift

“Samantha, you’re okay. I promise. The orgasmic cocktail of oxytocin, endorphins, dopamine, and serotonin is just messing with your emotions.” He kissed my shoulder. With a soft chuckle, and added, “I knew you just needed the right man to please you. God, you’re so fucking amazing.”

~Samantha Sheridan, Night Shift

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

“You walked into Xyst, throwing legal daggers at men who know how to throw them back. Trust me, our aim is better, and now we have more targets.”