A Dark Revenge Romance in the Devil Universe. Out April 2nd.
No one touches her.
No one looks at her.
No one speaks her name.
What kind of a weird fucked-up monster am I? I can’t kill the whole world because she lives in it, can I?
Maybe I can.
It’s said that psychopaths start out by killing insects. QuillNelson’s insect of choice is Piper Day, a girl whose strabismus has her wearing bug-eye glasses. As Quill grows older, his urge to kill Piper turns into the compulsive need to possess her...
A dual POV, pitch-black and non-linear romance that takes place in two different timelines: we follow Quill and Piper as teenagers, falling in love, and as adults, several years after their relationship has dramatically fallen apart.
Revenge x Stalker x Bully x Masked Man x Psychopath x BDSM.
Sneak peek
Want to get a taste of Quill and Piper’s toxic and irresistible chemistry? Read the scene that features their very spicy first time...
I park my bike and edge closer to her house, through the shrubbery that borders it. I pause just a few feet away from her window. It’s plunged in darkness, and I know she’s asleep.
The little path that leads to the house is covered in gravel, and I think for a moment of grabbing a handful and waking her that way. But I’m not sure I want to wake her. I don’t know if I can face her awake.
I just want to see her. That’s all.
There’s a tree nearby that branches its leaves out toward her window, and I wonder if I can climb up and get to it that way. It’s on the second floor. Not that high. It should be manageable.
Gulping down more nerves than I’ve ever experienced in my life, I swing up the tree and get to the highest branches, edging toward her window, when…
With a loud crack, I’m toppling down on the grass, the branch falling with me.
The fall doesn’t hurt, it just makes me feel dazed. I sit up, coming slowly to my senses, wondering whether I’ve just woken up the whole household.
No, just her. Great.
Somehow, that’s even worse than if I’d woken up her parents. There’s the click of a light, then the window to her bedroom is opened and her sleepy head pops out. She puts her glasses on, and they’re awry on her face, her hair completely crazy, like flames jutting out of her head, the freckles on her cheeks and nose standing out starkly on what looks like the face of a ghost.
“Quill!” she breathes, and I wonder if I don’t want to strangle her to death after all.
Or maybe just tug that lock of hair that’s standing out straight from her head back down. No, I think I’ll leave it wild. It’s kind of cute.
Cute. Since when have I ever found anything cute?
“Come up,” she whispers, pointing to a trellis on the side of the house, which would have been a lot easier to clamber up than the tree.
I really hate her for being the one to take the lead. For seeing me like this. I’m the one who’s supposed to dominate her. Torment her. Own her.
Clenching my jaw, I do as she says, hating myself even more than I hate her.
But that’s all forgotten when I reach her window and she puts her small hands on my back, as if she could possibly be helping to pull me up. Ridiculous.
Still, those hands burn my skin, and the burn remains long after she’s removed them.
I stand in her bedroom, feeling like I’m taking up all the space. It’s small, as small as her, and just as messy. There are clothes on the ground, untidy piles of books stacked against the walls and covering her desk, a half-eaten bowl of cereal on the nightstand, and she’s actually been sleeping with three more books in her bed.
She sees my eyes taking in her messy bedroom, and blushes. “I… didn’t have time to clean.”
