Satchmo Turner, proprietor of the Waifs and Strays private detection agency, can feel all of his meagre past success slipping away. His relationship is on the skids, he's flat broke and his business partner is hell-bent on taking a murder case that isn't paying. When a dynamite client proposes a doddle of a job for a bucket-full of cash, it seems like a no-brainer. But with the bodies piling up on the streets of Wolverhampton, and the ghostly hand of the city's founder on his shoulder, Satchmo and his motley group of pseudo-sleuths soon hope it won't be them that end up brain-dead.

Lucy is born into a community that requires its members to recruit three people before they turn twenty. Or pay the price.

She's a wild, free spirit who sees the good in everyone, and he's the hardened, bad-tempered loner who wants nothing to do with her-yet no matter how hard he tries to push her away, she's the one temptation he can't escape. *** He's never met someone with such a bubbly personality. Not to mention the wildness and odd phrases she says every five minutes. He hates it. He hates how he can't stay away from it. He hates what she does to him; it's not like him to chase after some girl. She gets under his skin like no other. She's never met someone with such a bad attitude. He's ill-mannered and menacing. The glare never seems to leave his face. Considering it all, she can't help but feel the attraction toward him. Dangerous attraction toward a seemingly dangerous man. Maybe it's the tattoos on his arm that gets her attention. Or maybe it's because she can tell there's hope for good under his rough exterior. And she's about to find it, whether he likes it or not. It's no secret that the two of them are complete and total opposites. *** "You like being called Sugar, don't you?" I tease, placing my toothbrush back after finishing. He does the same and gives me a side-eyed scowl. He grips my chin harshly and kisses me. My body temperature raises a good ten degrees and my right leg goes all wiggly. He pulls away. "You like it when I kiss you, don't you?" He teases the same way I did to him and I'm left blubbering. "I think both of our questions are rhetorical," I lower my voice up at him. His lip curls up into a smirk. *** #1 in Young Adult #9 in Badboy #1 in Cold #3 in Goodgirl #1 in Sweetheart #14 in Love *** *Warning* This story contains mature themes (language, scenes)

A port city where fishing for yourself is punishable by death and the local church drowns people twice a year may not sound like home. But it is for Vive, her mothers, and her friends. Until it is threatened by the very forces that birthed it, that is. Can a sandcastle win against the rising tide ? And more importantly, should it ?