When Is Colby Brock Birthday

SIX PACK SERIES BOOK FOUR ~ BROCK : I don't believe in happy endings. I stopped believing in them right around the time the woman I loved left me for another man. Love nearly destroyed me once, and when I picked myself back up, I swore I'd never be that stupid again. If you never give someone your heart, they can't break it- so for years, I've closed myself off; never opening up, never feeling. Growing more bitter as everyone around me finds their happy endings. Then I met Astrid. She's annoyingly perky, infuriatingly beautiful, and seems convinced that her cheerful little-miss-sunshine act can melt the ice around my heart. Worst of all, though, is some part of me wants her- and a girl like that is dangerous in my hands. She'll give me every piece of herself, only for her to break when I can't give her anything in return. ~ ASTRID : My whole life, I've gone with my gut. I get feelings about things and people that others don't get, and I've been told that it's a special gift; that I'm an 'intuitive'. I've also been accused of being an eternal optimist, which is why I'm thrown for a loop when I get hit with a gut feeling about the moodiest, broodiest guy I've ever met, like we're supposed to be something to each other. Like we're connected somehow. Trusting my gut has never let me down before, but the more time I spend with Brock, the more I wonder whether my 'gift' has gone haywire. This guy has built walls around his heart a mile thick, and he's not letting anyone through. He's living his life in the darkness, and I'm a little afraid that if I let myself get too close to him, he'll steal my light.

This is a story of two close friends (Courtney and Judy) and the odds that meet them as soon as Courtney turns 18. They hope for a bright future together but have no clue on things that are yet to unfold in their lives.

After twenty-five years of trying to win over Gus Harding, I failed and died by his hand. But he didn't know that. He kept threatening, demanding I show myself immediately. The real heiress slapped him hard. "Genevieve is dead, and you didn't even care enough to see her one last time." Gus scoffed, claiming it was just another one of my tricks. Only when he saw my cold, lifeless body did he finally understand. I was gone for good. And this time, it drove him mad.

On my birthday, the dining table was loaded with all my favorites. My mom had been cooking and baking the entire afternoon, insisting everything be perfect for when Mike got home from work so we could celebrate together. But then, he called and said his first love had been drugged at a bar, and he had to go help her. I stopped him and begged him not to go. Mike snapped at me. "Jesus, Em, don’t pull this jealous wife crap. She’s alone, defenseless, and unconscious—I can't let some random dude take advantage of her!" My mother heard those words and was so enraged that she had a heart attack. She died on the spot. Just like that, my mom died on my birthday. I called Mike, asking him to attend my mom's funeral. But before he could reply, I saw Cathy Miller's latest Instagram post, captioned: [Mikey… after all these years, it was always you.] Mike had liked it. My thumb moved before my brain caught up, typing out the only words that mattered: [A homewrecker and a lying bastard. Hope you rot together.]

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

My daughter hid inside the cabinet, her trembling hands dialing her father—James, the Alpha of our pack. "Mommy's bleeding a lot. Please, come back and save her," she pleaded. "I'm busy. Don't bother me," James said coldly. "If she's going to die, make sure she does it far away." As he wished, I never bothered him again. Because I really did die, right in front of our wedding photo. When he found out, he went mad, completely mad.