What Makes 'In Cold Blood' A Nonfiction Novel?

Enzo Corretti is a monster. He runs the most powerful crime family in the world. Being ruthless and unfeeling is in the job description but nowhere in the handbook did it ever say how to deal with someone like Dylan. She may look like a saint but underneath her pretty doe eyes there's a monster in waiting. Dylan Monroe is a Saint. That's what everyone always said about her. Growing up in violence and tragedy, she managed to live a normal life despite it. Well, that was until eight men showed up in her house with seven guns aimed at her head and the most vicious of them all, Enzo Coretti claiming she had something that belonged to him. Maybe she did. But Dylan knew if she gave it to him, it wouldn't end well for her.

Desperate for money, I planned a livestream exploring the home of a notorious serial killer in the dead of night. I thought it would be nothing more than a publicity stunt to attract viewers. I was wrong. What started as a reckless grab for attention turned into the most terrifying night of my life and a brutal lesson in what it truly meant to stare death in the face.

He promised to protect him from a killer. He never said he was one. When journalist Ian Parker witnesses a brutal murder, he should have been the killer's next victim. Instead, he wakes up in the hospital, saved by Zhedya Hunter…a brilliant forensic pathologist, a reclusive CEO, and a man with chilling grey eyes that feel hauntingly familiar. Charismatic and dangerously possessive, Zhedya offers Ian shelter in his opulent penthouse, a gilded cage where every comfort is a chain. As Zhedya's obsession deepens, Ian's career skyrockets, with damning evidence against the city's most wanted criminals mysteriously falling into his hands. But each exclusive story comes with a price: a fractured memory, a drugged haze, and a growing pile of bodies connected to anyone who threatens their twisted paradise. Now, Ian is trapped in a nightmare of luxury and lies, unraveling a truth more terrifying than any headline: his savior is a predator, his sanctuary is a crime scene, and the man who claims to love him is the most prolific murderer he will ever interview. Learning how to love a murderer is easy. Surviving him is the real story.

Thirteen years ago, Daniella watched her father drop dead right in front of her, his heart harvested and taken away. She watched his life drain away before her very eyes by the one man the world would never suspect. Since that very moment Daniella Cruz has lived her life for just one purpose—Revenge. At 18 Daniella was ready, she was trained, calculated, manipulative and a heartless being wanting to devour the soul who took the only one who mattered to her on earth. When she finally tracked down the man she believed destroyed her life, a powerful, untouchable billionaire with a dangerous and secretive reputation–she does the unthinkable. She enters home, as a disguised house help . Her plan is simple: get close, gain his trust and destroy him. But nothing goes as planned because the man she grew up to hating all her life is nothing like she imagined. He is cold, yes. Dangerous, maybe. But not cruel. Worse, he sees her, not as a servant, but someone worth protecting. And just something that started off as mere stealing glances, quiet conversation and something inside of her that she can’t explain. Daniella fell hard. She makes the one mistake she swore never to do. She fell in love with the man who killed her FATHER. A crazy turn of events, Daniella realizes that the truth is far more dangerous than the lie she has been living. Because he is not her father’s killer. And when the real monster finally stepped out of the shadows Daniella is forced to face a devastating reality: Revenge built her….. But love might be the one thing that would destroy her one question remains When the truth finally reveals itself will Daniella Cruz be able to pull the trigger?.

My wife, Caroline Bailey, was a forensic pathologist. For her first love, Ian Lawson, she was willing to break every rule she held sacred and allowed him into the autopsy room to observe. She even let him throw acid onto a corpse's face. That was, until Caroline took on a new case. As she stood over the disfigured body on her operating table, she began to fall apart. The acid-burned face was starting to look more and more like mine.

I'm a half-baked forensic examiner whose only redeeming quality is the ability to understand animals. The crime scene is inside a lavish villa. The lady of the house lies dead on the floor with a blunt-force injury to the back of her head so deep that her bone is visible. The safe has been pried open, and a million dollars in cash has vanished without a trace. Clear shoe prints mark the backyard wall, evidence that someone has climbed over it. "This one's clear as day. This is a textbook robbery-homicide. The suspect is likely a young male, around six feet tall, has a prior theft record, and knows how to cover his tracks. Check the surveillance footage in the area and look into places where he might've moved the stolen cash." The director of the forensic science center, Egbert Woodward, has been in the profession for three decades and is a widely respected authority. The officers at the scene nod in unison and begin taking notes. I'm the only one who stares at the 30 flies circling the ceiling for a full 3 minutes before taking a step forward and piping up, "Dr. Woodward, this isn't a robbery-homicide. It's a crime of passion. The murderer is the victim's husband!"