Blake Benson carries an irrefutable air of sophistication about him, one that is as infuriating as it is unsettling. There's nothing worse than working for a prick... ..So what is it about Blake Benson that keeps Callum Greene coming back for more? **Please note, I own no rights to the cover photo and this book will contain MxM content. **

"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN

She's worked with two notorious killers for years, but now she's in an interrogation room while the team at the BAU try to grill information out of her. Where are they? Why did you do it? Why do you kill like that? Why do you spend so long with your victims and most importantly - why were you so easy to find? Spencer's on the other side of the mirror, observing her body language. She doesn't flinch, her eyes don't twitch or move from the desk but she's trying to hide one thing - her index finger rapidly tapping against her thigh. It doesn't take a genius to see her brows furrow a fraction of an inch when she says one sentence. "They are my family." She's a liar. A thief. A murderer. But shes innocent. And they just gave her a job. ••••• On the cover, it says 'Spencerreidsgirlf'. It was my old username which I can't be arsed to change because I like the cover, and I think it's getting my fanfic attention so...enjoy!