Books By Don Winslow

Blake: "You think stalkers just watch? That’s cute." His dark chuckle sends a shiver down your spine. "You’re in for a real surprise." Demitri: "When I speak, people obey. It’s that simple. Even you won’t say no to me." Lucas: "Killing isn’t the thrill—it’s the build-up, the precision, the art in it. How can’t you see that?" When a dark romance author ventures onto the dark web in search of real-life inspiration, she makes a daring request: to shadow a stalker, a serial killer, and the mafia’s Don for a week to better understand their worlds. What starts as research for her latest novel quickly turns into something far more dangerous. Blake, the obsessive stalker, Demitri, the commanding mafia Don, and Lucas, the twisted killer, each agree to let her into their lives—but none of them plan to let her go. Now, the author finds herself not just writing a dark romance, but living it, as all three men decide they want her for themselves. The question isn’t just how she’ll escape—but which one of them will claim her first.

“Open up,” he ordered, and I immediately obeyed. He checked to see if I had swallowed. His eyes blazed as he nodded in approval. “That’s like a good girl.” I blushed at the compliment as I nibbled on my lips, feeling satisfied at being praised washing over my every being. His eyes followed my little action. “What are you to say, pet?” He asked as he began stroking my head. “Thank you, master. “I replied shyly. At this point, I knew that I was too far gone to stop. I enjoyed it way too much—the feeling of being controlled. He burns for her and will burn down the world to have her.

On the day the real heiress was welcomed home, my fiancé was already sleeping with her. Staring at the blue pills and torn lingerie scattered on the floor, I told them to get the hell out of my wedding house. But a second later, my father stormed in and slapped me hard across the face. "Who are you to tell her to leave? Bella is our real daughter!" "Elena, you’re just an outsider we took in by mistake. You’re the one who needs to get out." Marco wrapped his arm around Bella, his tone impatient: "Elena, I’m the heir to the Moretti family. I can’t marry a mongrel with impure blood like you. If you don't want to bring shame to the family, be smart and go tell the Don the wedding is off tomorrow." Bella gave a coy smile and tossed a stack of cash at my feet like she was giving alms: "Sister, I know Marco and I hurt you, but we’re true love." "Take this as your severance package. Take the money and get lost." I suppressed my rage and stepped forward to throw these disgusting people out, but Marco shoved me violently. "I told you, I’m not marrying you! Keep pestering us, and don't blame me for getting rough!" My stomach slammed against the table. I laughed out of pure anger. Who said I wanted to marry him? The one I’m going to marry is his father—the Don of the Moretti family, Lorenzo.

I showed up to Luciano's birthday in his favorite lingerie—ready to surprise him. Instead, I walked in on him hooking up with my half-sister, Cecilia. Classic. So yeah, I dumped him on the spot and hit the nearest bar to blackout my rage. One thing led to another, and I ended up having a one-night stand with this insanely hot stranger. Plot twist? He turned out to be Luciano's adoptive dad. Yeah—Lysandro Godino. The freaking mafia Don. Since then, my life's been a mess of his dark world, intense nights, and seriously confusing feelings. He's wild. Possessive. Obsessive. The kind of man who doesn't believe in limits. And somewhere in all that chaos, I fell for him—hard. But does he love me back? I still don't know.

The day I went into labor with the twins, I bribed the family doctor to shoot me up with every heavy-duty suppressant he could get his hands on. Anything to stall the birth. Why? Because in my last life, Vincent—my husband, the Don—claimed to have a low sperm count. To guarantee an heir, he lined up ten mistresses and told the whole house: whoever popped out a son first, her kid would be the next Corleone Don. He promised if I delivered first, he'd ditch the others. Said our baby would inherit the throne. I bought every word. When I found out I was carrying twins, I couldn't stop shaking—I thought I'd won. But after I gave birth, he tossed me and the babies into the freezing wine cellar and locked the place down. "Lucy came from nothing. I just wanted to give her kid a name. You started rumors, pushed her into despair, and now she's dead—her and the baby. You're vile. Not fit to be the Don's wife. Think about what you've done. I'll open the door in three days." Then he had the butler seal it shut. What he didn't know? That night, the cellar caught fire. Me and my babies? Burned alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back—right before labor. This time, I'm not staying. Soon as I deliver and get back on my feet, I'm taking my kids and disappearing for good.

**Don't go to the forest. Don't look out the window... He takes over your thoughts and turns your dreams into nightmares**. Camila Clear moves to Wisconsin with her mother and two sisters not knowing what the town and its people hold. Not until someone tells her about an ancient legend: SLENDERMAN. Camila decides not to believe and pass on those stories but when she starts experiencing strange things she has no choice but to admit it. Adrien Hoffman is the wealthiest and most coveted guy in town, however he keeps a secret and she wants to find out what it is. The constant disappearances that begin to occur in town put everyone on alert, but when Camila's younger sister, Bea, mysteriously disappears, she decides to go into the woods in search of her. But Adrien will not leave her alone, he will want to protect her even if he loses his life in the attempt.

Tenía ocho meses de embarazo y estaba en una gala benéfica con mi esposo, Don Massimo, cuando una familia rival nos atacó. La multitud entró en pánico. Fui empujada al suelo con fuerza. Había sangre por todas partes. Massimo perdió la cabeza, gritando por médicos, desesperado por salvar a mi bebé. Pero cuando desperté, se habían ido. Ambos. Sin bebé y sin Massimo. Recordé los disparos, a Massimo protegiéndome con su cuerpo. Un terror frío me invadió. Me arrastré hasta una silla de ruedas y recorrí el pasillo a toda prisa. Fue entonces cuando los escuché: a Massimo y al doctor. —Don, lo siento. Hicimos todo lo que pudimos. El bebé… no lo logró. Las lágrimas rodaron por mi rostro. Habían matado a mi bebé. La familia rival había matado a mi hijo. Pero sus siguientes palabras destrozaron mi mundo. —Solo había un equipo médico. Tuve que elegir. Bianca… ella también estaba esperando un hijo mío. Massimo suspiró y luego dio la orden. —Nadie se lo dirá a Arabella. Ella criará al hijo de Bianca como si fuera suyo. Él será mi único heredero. Me llevé una mano a la boca, con la visión borrosa por las lágrimas mientras me alejaba. El hombre que amaba era una mentira. Bien. Si quiere una guerra, la tendrá.

It was the third year of my marriage to Antonio Rizzo, Don of the Rizzo mafia family. He kept a younger woman on the side and had everyone keep it from me. They all said I was his first love, his weakness, the treasure he brought back from Cocily. However, when he got drunk, he laughed and told the family members, "I love Elena, but she's a bit boring in bed. She's just not wild enough. "You all know how it is. Men like a little excitement, like Caterina. She's young, beautiful, and knows how to have fun." The boy who had sworn in church at 17 that he would love me forever now held a young, beautiful blonde in his arms as he coaxed her, "As long as Elena doesn't find out, you can do whatever you want." The day I left, everything seemed normal. No one noticed anything unusual. The maid, Maria Russo, even smiled and asked me, "Signora, are you going shopping?" I smiled lightly and nodded. "No need to prepare dinner tonight." Antonio did not know that the 'boring' Elena he spoke of was the daughter of the Santoro mafia family. The women of the Santoro family never forgave betrayal.

She was back. She is innocent and beautiful. She was intimidated. He was ambitious. He is kind and handsome. He falls in love. In the sultry haze of passion’s fire, Two hearts collided, desire unbridled. Their love, a clandestine affair, Igniting flames that danced and swirled. Amidst tangled sheets and whispered vows, they wove a tale of stolen moments, Each touch a confession, each kiss a plea, To drown in the depths of their shared ecstasy. The moon bore witness to their stolen nights, As they traced constellations on bare skin, Their secrets etched in sweat and sighs, A love forbidden, yet impossible to rescind. But dawn arrived, cruel and unyielding, tearing them apart like fragile petals. Promises whispered, promises broken, Their hearts left bleeding, forever unsettled. And so, they became ghosts of passion, haunted by memories of that steamy affair, Their love a bittersweet ache, a silent confession, In the quiet hours when the world ceased to care. For love, once ignited, never truly dies, It lingers in the shadows, a smoldering flame, A testament to the heat of their stolen nights, A tale of love after a steamy affair, untamed.

Durante cuatro años fui su secretaria y durante cuatro años calenté su cama. Lo sabía todo, desde los negocios de su familia hasta los secretos que me susurraba por las noches. Pero para él, yo no era más que un juguete al que podía recurrir cuando quisiera. En cuanto su primer amor, Sofía Costa, regresó al país, él me humilló sin pensarlo dos veces. La besó en una iglesia de Sicilia, me abandonó en una carretera, empapada por la lluvia con un corte de veinticinco centímetros en la pantorrilla, y luego me despidió con una frase fría y mordaz. Dijo que yo era alguien sin importancia, alguien a quien simplemente podía ignorar. Ella agitó el tulipán de peluche que él le había obsequiado delante de mí. —Yo soy la única a la que ama. Tú solo eras una sustituta. Mientras reconstruía mi vida en Northport y por fin encontraba algo de paz, este despiadado Don de la mafia se arrodilló frente a mi puerta, con los ojos rojos de emoción. —Elena, vuelve conmigo. Pateé su mano lejos con una sonrisa. —Tu supuesta devoción me repugna.