"With all due respect sir, adding a new member to this team will only slow us down." "On the contrary, if anything your team will slow her down." *** She's the ghost story you tell around a camp fire. The monster that hides in your closet. The nightmare that wakes you from your sleep. She's the definition of the word 'deadly'. She never smiles, never shows any emotion other than a blank stare. Unless, she's pissed, then it shows. She doesn't trust any of the other agents, only the chief. She doesn't play nice with others. She's a solo agent, always works alone, but that's about to change. Respect her and she'll take a bullet for you. Mistreat her and she'll put a bullet in you...if you're lucky. She's Agent 13... ***Book 1*** Highest Ranking: #1 in Action

For months Summer is trapped in a cellar with the man who took her - and three other girls: Rose, Poppy, and Violet. His perfect, pure flowers. His family. But flowers can't survive long cut off from the sun, and time is running out...

Book 2 of The Famoux Trilogy! Updated every Friday for #FamouxFriday.

Leaving behind everything she's ever known, Emilee enters a world of high glamour and even higher stakes. The new freedom that comes with being a part of the Famoux is intoxicating, but behind the perfect image lies an ugly truth - being popular is a matter of life or death. ***** Out of the wreckage of environmental collapse, the country of Delicatum emerged. Its most popular celebrities are the Famoux, uniquely beautiful stars of a reality TV show called the Fishbowl. In a world still recovering from catastrophe, they provide a 24/7 distraction. Sixteen-year-old Emilee Laurence is obsessed with the Famoux - they provide a refuge from her troubled home life and the bullies at school. When she receives an unimaginable offer to become a member herself, she takes it. But soon she realizes that fame can be deadly... Content and trigger warning: This story depicts mental health issues and contains scenes of violence. [[word count: 350,000-400,000 words]]

"Y-you," she stuttered, staring at the handsome man sitting on the sleek black throne, "you're..." He rolled his eyes, waving his hand impatiently and said, "Hades. Come on, say it with me. Ha-des." "Hades," Ariel breathed out, still not believing the sight before her. Every picture she had seen of the gods had not depicted Hades' beauty. The god sitting before her was not a crusty old man with a white beard; no, he was a Calvin Klein model. "Yes," Hades clasped his hands together and grimaced, "the God of Death and riches; that's me." Ariel nodded, still refusing to believe but knowing she had to and Hades' grimace turned even bitter, "And you, darling, will be staying with me for quite some time." ~*~ Cover: _nymphomaniac Published: 8/6/14