Böcker av Erinn Giblin

Death has no allegiances. When the thunderous roar of demise comes rolling in at your feet, Death himself will appear in front of you. He does not care to hear your pleas, your reasons, or your apologies. He will waste no time in taking the only thing that has ever truly been yours, and hand it over to your judge, Fate. And so it has been since the beginning of the realms, but the winds have changed. Death has been made an offer, an exchange of favors has taken place. Fate has new meaning now, for all, the living and the awaited dead.

I wake to sunlight beaming in on my face, fresh blooms outside my windows, and a lady's maid sitting aside a platter full of fruits and homemade breads. There is no sound but that of workers on the grounds and my maid's feet clicking against my bedroom floor. She has been silently taking care of me since I first awoke. It's annoying, as if I'm missing something I can't recall needing. I should be grateful. My bedroom is beautiful. I'm a princess with all the love in the world at my feet. My closet is filled with dresses of every color. Handmade shoes sit perfectly on their own private shelf, accompanied by troves of jewelry, handbags, and ornate personal items I wouldn't have considered needing if I didn't already have them. This is all new to me. I wasn't allowed out of bed yesterday after recovering from an illness. A terrible illness that nearly killed me, or so I am told. An illness that managed to imprison any memories I had beyond a few days ago. I have no possessions that mean anything to me. I woke to a man smiling at me with great respect as he discussed my rehabilitation with a doctor. I feel as though my soul has been locked away in darkness for years, and suddenly, a bright light has been cast upon it. Nothing makes sense. Where do I begin? How do I move forward when everything I touch is foreign to me? My Love's arms should comfort me, but they are lacking in ways I can't explain. His kiss is tender, but his touch gives me chills. His words are encouraging, but they hold no recognizable truth. I don't know him. I don't know anything of my life. My name is Mira, but even that sounds wrong. Samael, my fiancé, believes my memories are gone forever, but he promises to give me a whole new world to make new ones. I can't debate his optimism. I am unable to debate anything. If stealing my recollection of the life I once knew wasn't enough, I've also been robbed of my voice. Emotions and words fill my head, but I have no understanding of how to speak them. I wander the palace day and night, searching. For what, I do not know. A memory? A person? Me? Maybe it's just that I am missing the beginning of the story. My story. Questions need to be answered, and the first one - how did I get here?

In the underbelly of L.A., crime has a sinister grip on the inner-workings of the city. When a cop turns up missing, his senator father will stop at nothing to locate him, even if that means bringing in the precarious Laila Lowell. Charged with the task of rescue or recovery, Laila sets out to take down the city's most powerful criminal while defending the secrets that will keep her alive, but the moment she meets bad boy Benjamin Ryder, her mission takes on a whole new dimension -- a deeply personal one. From the front lines to the tangled depths of honor, vengeance, and allure, Laila is locked and loaded as she goes Undercover.