- UPCOMING -
This page is dedicated to whatever release I'm currently working on. Right now, that's "Payback Princess", the second book in a new trilogy, "Lost Daughter of a Serial Killer". It's what I like to call 'upper YA', meaning a mature story with a high school aged main character. If you enjoyed "Filthy Rich Boys" or "The Secret Girl", this should be right up your alley.
I'm simultaneously working on this series as well as the final book in the "Death by Daybreak MC" trilogy that begins with "I Was Born Ruined". If you enjoyed "Havoc at Prescott High", this series should float your boat. ;) On another note, if you enjoyed Havoc, do you remember the mentions of Scarlett Force? More info below!
If you'd like all of the latest updates, please consider joining my readers' group, The Bookish Bat Cave.
Grab a Copy of Stolen Crush
(Lost Daughter of a Serial Killer #1)
Grab a Copy of Payback Princess
(Lost Daughter of a Serial Killer #2)
Grab a Copy of I Was Born Ruined
(Death by Daybreak #1)
Grab a Copy of I Am Dressed in Sin
(Death by Daybreak #2)
Grab a Copy of I Will Revel in Glory
(Death by Daybreak #3) (FINAL BOOK)
Grab a Copy of Fuckboy Psychos
(Scarlett Force #1)
- Payback Princess -
Finding out you’re the daughter of a famous serial killer isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
My father—the Seattle Slayer—is charismatic, intelligent, and charming.
He’s also trying to teach me to kill people, so … his good qualities don’t seem to matter much.
He’s kidnapped my boyfriend, a guy that I used to hate but grew to love.
Parrish, I’m coming for you. I’ll do anything—anything—to keep you safe.
Starting a new life as the most hated girl in Whitehall Prep was not in my game plan.
But when I asked my dad what the point of all this was, you know what he said?
“It’s payback, Princess.”
The upper crust families in Medina have wrongs to answer for, wrongs that will be paid in blood—by me.
Justin Prior is back in town, and he’s brimming with secrets.
The question is: how far will I go to uncover them?
Parrish is bruised and bleeding; Chasm burns with violent heat; Maxx is a thundercloud waiting in the wings. Lumen lies. Danyella knows. Kimber fights back.
Welcome to Medina, bitches. Love-hate is in the air, and it isn’t just me that feels it. This town is cursed in blood and diamonds.
I’ll win this thing, Dad.
Do your worst.
Teaser from Payback Princess
(C) C.M. Stunich
“I’m not doing it,” he tells me, but we’ve been through this before, with the maid and the box. He’ll do it, even if he hates himself for every action he takes. Same for me. We’re in the same boat here, hating ourselves so badly that we’re turning to ash on the inside. He crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head violently. “I can’t do that to him.”
“Kwang-seon,” I start, and his eyes snap open. He stalks toward me, and I end up backing up until I’m pressed against the shiny white tiles that cover the bottom half of the wall. He slams his palms on either side of me, leaning down so that our mouths are a hairs-breadth apart.
“Don’t call me by my real name,” he snarls out, angry but with no outlet for his rage. Just me. Only me. “And don’t bow at me. Don’t speak to me in Korean. Don’t touch me. Don’t compliment me. Don’t—”
My hands come up, my fingers resting on either side of his face. In every place we touch, my body aches. I’m pretty sure I’m crying, but the tears are silent, creating salty tracks down my cheeks. Closing my eyes, I lean in, pressing my lips softly against his.
We’re both trembling, both hurting, both flooded with guilt.
A sob escapes me as I dig my fingers harder into Chasm’s cheeks, pressing my mouth to his again, kissing him the way I’ve wanted to since that day at the lake when he said fuck it and shoved his tongue down my throat.
I lean against him, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t deepen the kiss, doesn’t even open his mouth for me. Still crying, still shaking, I open my eyes to find that he’s still watching me. Everything about him says tense, angry, upset, but he doesn’t move either closer to me or further away.
- I Will Revel in Glory -
What sort of girl falls in love with four outlaws?
What sort of girl plays with fire for the fun of it?
I’m the salvation for the dirty throne of the city’s underworld, the only person who can secure a future for the Death by Daybreak Motorcycle Club. There are few people in this world that I can trust—a mafia brat, a soon-to-be nun, and four lascivious demons—but that’ll have to be enough, or we’ll all burn together in glorious flame. Only, there’s no telling what my father will do now that he knows the truth.
They will always be wrong for me.
But sometimes, the darkness simply chooses you.
These guys … they’ve chosen someone.
They’ve chosen me
- Start the Series -
Teaser from I Will Revel in Glory
(C) C.M. Stunich
I’m in shock; my body is brimming over with adrenaline. All I can see when I close my eyes is a memory I thought was long-buried, one where Gaz, Queenie, Posey, and I are playing together in a small yard filled with flowering dandelions and the rusted-out shells of two cars.
Gaz was so much older than me, but I liked that when I was little. He could put me on his shoulders and carry me around. He could reach things on high shelves. He could make Queenie laugh.
Dizziness sweeps over me, but I push it back. I shove with all my might until nostalgia fades into the distance and the blurriness of the real world fills my vision. It’s hard to tell where the floor ends and the walls begin, if there’s even a ceiling, if I’m standing up or sitting down.
Loud footsteps precede warm hands on my ribcage, lifting me up, pulling me close.
Suede and violets.
It’s Crown, my father’s vice president and one of the four men in this club that I dare to call my own.
But only if he wants me.
I don’t know if he does, if he can’t have all of me.
Teaser from F*ckboy Psychos
(C) C.M. Stunich
There’s only one reason people attend Prescott High: they’re forced into it.
The truant officer won’t allow me to skip anymore classes, so I’ve been coming to school regularly for what’s probably the first time in my life. I’m only a junior here, but somehow, I’ve managed to make a name for myself in a relatively short of period of time.
Every morning, I park my car in front of the school—right in front—and I walk the hall with my best bitches. People stay away from us. And people stay away from us for a reason.
“Where is it, you little scag?” I hiss, my fingers buried in the back of some girl’s hair. She’s breathing hard, but she isn’t talking and it’s pissing me all the way off. I shove her to her knees and then put my foot on her back, pressing her the rest of the way into the floor.
“You have less than a minute to go,” Mrs. Robins says, popping in the gym door to give us a warning. She ignores me as I shove my heel even harder into the downed girl’s back and stare at her. “Maybe thirty seconds.”
I don’t argue because getting a teacher on my side is hard enough with limited cash flow. Luckily, Mrs. Robins has been caught fucking a senior guy who’s repeated so many classes he must be pushing nineteen by now. Anyway, it was enough leverage to get her to do dirty work for me.
“Christ.” I grind my heel just a bit harder into the girl’s back and then step away, squatting down beside her. My best friends in all the whole world—Lemon, Maria, and Nisha—watch from the sidelines. “Just tell me where the goddamn trophy is, and we can be done here.”
“It’s just for show. What difference does it make?” the girl wheezes. Clearly, she has yet to process exactly how much trouble she’s in here. The trophy is most definitely not just for show. It’s the same trophy—a copper one from 1912 in the shape of a cup—that’s been in rotation on the tracks around Prescott High for like, a million years. As if I’m going to let it go that easily.
“If you sold it, I will kill you.” I’m not joking either; I hope she understands that. I look up at Nisha and she raises a brow my direction. See, at this point, I haven’t killed anyone yet. That’s three months down the line, remember? The thing is, I have that sort of dark fire inside of me. I’m pretty sure I was born with it. “Shave her head, kick her ass, and then burn her house down. If the trophy’s in there, we can pick it out of the ashes.”
“Seriously, Scarlett?” the girl bites out, shoving to her feet and swiping blood from her lips. “I was going to add it to my dad’s copper pipe stash for some extra money. I have three sisters to worry about, okay?”
“And I have a race”—here I snap my fingers because I’m just dramatic like that—“and a trophy to win. Give it to me.”