The Selected Letters Of Florence Kelley, 1869-1931

Annie Halden was the exact definition of a wallflower. She lived on the sidelines, didn't like attention and worried too much. She wrote letters to herself as her way to get her thoughts out. She never told anyone or let anyone see. Leo Smith, one of the school star athletes and most popular boys, found one of her letters. He started breaking into her locker to read the letters every time there was a new one. He grew concerned about her and wanted to protect her, he wanted to know why she was so broken and who hurt her, he wanted her to know he was there for her - be her shoulder to lean on. How would this friendship work out with Annie being as shy and quiet as she is, never getting close to anyone? How would this friendship last if Annie came to find out the truth about Leo stealing and reading her personal letters?

After a sudden, brutal breakup, I unexpectedly ran into Pierce Donovan at a hotel—with another woman in his arms. He coldly told me he wasn’t interested in my body. But that all changed when I knocked on his door late at night, wearing something a little more daring. Before I could react, he pulled me into his arms, his voice low and commanding, "Don’t cover yourself. I want to have a good look at you."

Maeve Edgar's life plan was simple: survive until Selection Day, then disappear forever. As the pack's favorite scapegoat, she's spent years perfecting the art of being invisible. But when she gets kidnapped and dumped in front of the most dangerous prince in the kingdom, invisible stops being an option. Prince Riven is everything the rumors say - cold, lethal, and absolutely not interested in playing nice. So why does he choose her for some mysterious academy that nobody's ever heard of? And why does being near him feel like remembering something she never knew she'd forgotten? Turns out the Blood Moon Academy is where pack heirs compete in brutal trials to earn a place in the Royal Court. Now she's stuck fighting alongside the same spoiled brats who used to torment her, trying to prove she belongs somewhere she was never supposed to be. The connection between them grows stronger with every moment they're in the same room. It's the kind of bond wolves used to have before the Great War - the kind everyone says is just a myth now. But people are asking questions about her family, her past, her dreams of faces she's never seen. The wrong kind of people. And some of them seem very interested in making sure she doesn't get the answers she's looking for. The Academy was supposed to be about earning her place in the world. Turns out it might be about remembering who she used to be.

Sixteen-year-old Ava never expected her future to show up in the form of a letter. When she discovers a mysterious envelope slipped under her bedroom door—written in handwriting that looks eerily like her own—she brushes it off as a cruel prank. But the message inside is impossible to ignore: Tomorrow, do not take the shortcut home. If you do, he will never wake up. The next day, Ava changes her routine. And in doing so, she prevents a tragedy that could have cost her best friend his life. More letters arrive, each warning her of choices she hasn’t made yet—choices that will unravel family secrets, test her friendships, and place her in the middle of a dangerous puzzle only she can solve. With every decision, Ava begins to wonder if the future she’s trying to protect is already written… or if she has the power to change it.

Phoebe has always been the quiet good girl who followed the rules. Until one night she poured every filthy fantasy she had about the school’s golden boy, Conrad, into a handwritten letter. That letter was never meant to be read by anyone. But it fell into the hands of the one person who should never have seen it—Seth Astor. Her new stepbrother. Now Seth holds her most dangerous secret, and he’s not giving it back. Not unless Phoebe agrees to become his personal assistant for two months. Total obedience. No questions. No escape. What starts as blackmail slowly turns into something far more dangerous—forbidden desire, burning tension, and a game neither of them can stop playing.

My best friend and my husband, Lorenzo Bartoli, fought every time they met. Lorenzo was the Don of the family, while my best friend was his Consigliere. She always fiercely opposed his most ruthless, high-risk decisions. Tempers explode every single time. But there was one rule that they both agreed on without any hesitation. No one was allowed to touch me. Because of them, no one in the city dared to cross me. Until the fifth month of my pregnancy, when I went down to the basement vault to organize Lorenzo's guns for him. I opened the safe to see stacks of letters, hundreds of them, all unsent. I picked one up. The moment I opened the letter, cold dread overwhelmed me. The receiver of the letter wasn't me. [My dearest Sofia…] I quickly scanned downward to the final lines of the letter. [If I don't make it back alive, everything in the Swissie accounts goes to you. As for Vittoria, she's a good woman, but I have never loved her.] With trembling hands, I tore open the rest of the letters like a hysterical woman. Three hundred of them in total. Every single one was addressed to Sofia Finzi. Sofia was not a stranger. She was my best friend.