I Didn't Write This War

Since Brody O'Rourke walked into my life, he has been a thorn in my side, and I intend to be one in his.

Stalking him was a bad idea. At first it was only fun, a way to gather real experience for the books I write about controlling, possessive men who live by blood and fear and would burn it all down for the right woman.

He calls me a menace and a brat. Without the spark in every kiss and every touch, I might believe he means it. Falling for him could still cost me everything.

Now I am caught in a war waged by men far more dangerous than any I write about. On the page I can promise a happy ending. Out here, no one has to get one.