Roses are red. Vines are green. He’s the darkest Valentine I’ve ever seen. I wake in a vineyard with no memory of how I got here.
Black heart balloons drift between twisted grapevines, and somewhere in the darkness, he’s watching. Waiting.
When his voice cuts through the cold February night, commanding me to run, I obey without question. But every predator should remember: sometimes the prey has claws of her own.
Each book in the Dark Nights Collection can be read as a standalone.
