Twenty-six-year-old Gaby Barreto might be a lot of things (loyal, sarcastic, one of the guys, and a pain in the butt, depending on which family member you ask), but dumb isn't one of them. When her twin brother invites her to go on tour as his band's merch girl, she isn't exactly screaming at the top of her lungs with joy. But with no job opportunities pounding on her door, an ex-boyfriend she would still like to castrate, and no end in sight to moving out of her parents' house in Dallas, it would be dumb to say no to the chance of a lifetime.

Charming, captivating, seductive—and a cold-blooded killer. I married the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva anyway. I had to, it was part of the deal. Now, I’m faking marital bliss as I tremble with fear, and I cannot wait to be out of the clutches of this ruthless man.

When Mia shows up for the interview at a well-known architecture firm, she only has 27p, a squashed loaf of bread, and a jar of peanut butter to her name. She needs this job, even if she is scared to death of the owner of the company. To Mia, huge, grumpy men aren't sexy; they're simply terrifying. She knows from experience that even men of average size can be dangerous. If she weren't so desperate, she'd run.

Would you rather know a truth that makes you feel hopeless, or keep believing the lies? Beloved and bestselling author Colleen Hoover returns with the spellbinding story of two young people with devastating pasts who embark on a passionate, intriguing journey to discover the lessons of life, love, trust--and above all, the healing power that only truth can bring.

It should have been easy. I needed the money. He needed a babysitter to keep him from snorting himself to death. I was cherry-picked especially for him. Responsible. Optimistic. Warm. Innocent. The worst part is that I should have known better. Alex Winslow. British rock star. Serial heartbreaker. Casanova with whiskey eyes. “Don’t get near the devil in a leather jacket. He’ll chew you up and spit you out.” Guess what? I didn’t listen. I signed the contract. World tour. Three months. Four Continents. 100 shows. My name is Indigo Bellamy, and I sold my soul to a tattooed god.