Overview

I didn't mean to fall in love with the cop who answered my 911 call. One minute I was a new mom with a crying baby and a bruised face, just trying to survive. The next, Officer Johnny Thorn was on my front porch-calm, controlled, looking at me like I was something fragile... and worth saving. He takes me to the hospital. Tells me about his mother-about what domestic violence stole from him. He swears no one will ever hurt me again. And I believe him. Until someone starts stalking me. A masked man slips into my bedroom at night and handcuffs me to my own bed. He forces my wrists above my head and breathes my name like it's a prayer-or a promise. His hands are rough. Possessive. Intimate. His words are terrifying... but somehow exhilarating. He feels like Johnny. He looks like Johnny. But he isn't Johnny. ...Is he? My sister whispers about fractured minds. Trauma splintering reality. Something called Dissociative Identity Disorder. I don't know what to believe anymore. I only know the man who protects me in the daylight feels terrifyingly similar to the one who claims me in the dark. They say don't judge a book by its cover. But sometimes the cover is flawless while the pages inside are warped, wicked... and rotting. I don't know if my story ends with a happy ever after... Or in blood. I just know I'm already too deep in the story to close it.

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