I detest Fate. All vampires crave more than the rich taste of blood is their beloved, but I'm betrayed. I'm left hopeful and hopeless. Against all attempts, my heart has been poisoned against me. My belief is gone. A lie has been weaved for far too long and I fell into the web like so many others before me. I must ease the ache of time. No longer will I yearn for a fairytale. This torture comes to a stop. To find love, I follow tradition instead. A matching ceremony. And she changes all I know.

I wasn't born a serial killer. The horror of my past made me what I am today. But I couldn't stop even if I wanted to. Because only one thing gives me respite from my panic attacks. Murder. I used to have a broody protector that kept my demons at bay. His darkness rivaled my own, and he was my everything. Tragedy tore us apart when we were eighteen. And since then, he's stayed away. Not too far, though.

Shunned by most species and abandoned by their warlock fathers, necromancers are marginalized, feared, and reclusive. Erasmus Boone is different. His warlock father chose love instead of abandonment. Unusually powerful and talented, Boone embraced his necromantic abilities and managed to carve out an existence within a world that would rather he not exist at all.

Orphaned at birth and living in a small, broken town, one that believes I'm a cursed child. The bringer of bad luck. I tried to escape the stigma, to create something better for myself. It all came crashing down one night and my world shattered. While dealing with the aftermath, an unbelievable opportunity landed in my lap. A scholarship to attend an exclusive university far away. This was my chance to start fresh.

My newest obsession is nothing like any of my past hookups. A perma-scowl and general leave-me-alone attitude? Yeah, that's the kind of thing I usually stay away from. But the most shocking part about all of this is that the person who's got me all out of whack . . . isn't a girl. Bash is a six-foot-four-tatted personal trainer who seems to want nothing to do with me. Until I'm naked, that is. As soon as I'm dressed, he's more than ready to say goodbye. But if there's one thing getting a taste of Sebastian Crawford has taught me, it's that one taste just isn't enough.