Monica James

It's been five years since I fled in the dead of night to Italy to escape my crimes. How na ve I was to believe that I could repent for my sins. Gianna Ricci, the woman who adopted me, made it clear that the man I loved with every inch of my heart would forever be the enemy, no matter how many miles were between us. Lennon Shepherd stands between me and freedom. Kill Lenny...I'm free. Seems simple enough. But our relationship has always been complicated. I think we have always hated one another more than love. But for two broken people, the hatred has us appreciating the love so much more because you cannot have one without the other. And that is the only reason why we're still alive. We've had ample opportunity to kill the other over the years. But we don't, and that's because our love runs deeper than revenge. And that's what makes us both weak, weak for the other. This is possession and ownership. This is obsessive love. He is meant for me. And I am meant for him. However, I come back to America because I've been guarding a secret. And I need Lenny's help. It seems we're finally on the same side...fighting for the same thing. But this doesn't mean we're united. Regardless of our undying love, neither of us will surrender. If anything, this means war, and our feud is so much worse than any before it. Let the best man or rather woman win because I won't lose.

My name is Peyton Lane, and I have no idea who I am. Six months ago, I woke from a coma with no recollection of anybody, anything. My family tells me that I'm a good woman, that I'm loved. It seems I've lived a full, rewarding life, but I would give all of it up in a heartbeat to remember who I was. My mind is a blank slate. Every moment in time wiped clean. But there is one thing I can remember, something I haven't dared to tell anyone about-a mysterious oak tree, a red ribbon, and a vision of drowning. I know the answers I seek lie buried at the bottom of a lake. And that's why I'm here in South Carolina. The memory I have is something I witnessed... So I wonder what it would feel like to remember...remember who I was, but more importantly...remember what I did.