Uninterested in his white knight act, she’d rather take her chances without the ruggedly handsome, cold-blooded operative who boasts an alpha complex and too many guns.Colby Winters, former Navy SEAL and an elite member of The Titan Group, has a single objective on his black ops mission: recover a document important to national security. It was supposed to be an easy in-and-out operation. But now, by any means necessary becomes a survival mantra when he faces off with a stunning woman he can’t leave behind.When Titan’s safe houses are compromised, Colby stashes Mia at his home, exposing his secret—he’s the adoptive father of an orphaned baby girl. Too soon, danger arrives and Mia lands in the hands of a sadistic cartel king with a taste for torture. As hours bleed into fear-drenched days, Colby races across the globe and through a firestorm of bullets to save the woman he can’t live without.

    Clad in hooded black robes, carrying torches that blazed with evil fury, they came. With chanting—at first a distant murmur, then growing and building, louder and louder—incessant, demanding, hideous chanting, they came.Mother had been rocking both Jeremiah, my four-year-old little brother, and me on our rickety rocking chair, its swaying motion in itself a soothing comfort on a dark night. But more than that, mother sang to us in her clear and lilting voice as she often did, chasing away the ghosts and goblins that sometimes haunt a young boy’s mind. As I was about to drop off to sleep, the noise and the clatter from outside our cabin startled me back to consciousness. Mother’s voice mixed with the incessant chanting that came closer and closer. Her voice faded. We could see the lights from their torches through the window panes, and mother rose quickly from the rocker and hurried Jeremiah and me into our bedroom. She cautioned us in whispery tones to stay quiet, to stay in our room, pretend to be asleep; and then on tiptoe, she rushed out the door, closing it quietly after herself.Within minutes, I heard Mother scream a piercing wail that emitted both terror and defeat. They came through our bedroom door, robes rustling, wild eyes searching, hands reaching, and carried Jeremiah and I from our beds. They dragged Mother out the front door, through the dark forest, up the mountainside, our captors pulling my brother and I close behind. I remember the brittle sound of the fallen leaves under our feet, the cold chill of the night air brushing against my face, the pale moonlight frosting the tips of the last remaining leaves on the black, skeletal oak trees that rose above us. And we kept climbing, climbing, farther and farther up through the forest. And as we walked, a cold wind came up, turning the leaves; and the racing clouds changed into thunderheads. And then the first bolt of lightning lit the sky and illuminated the hellish scene around us—the shadowy, dark figures stomping through the bushes and underbrush, the swaying glow of lanterns through the trees. All the while their chanting reverberated across the landscape, mixing with the sound of the howling, barking, snarling, pawing dogs that followed in their midst."

    Six people will enter the contest, but not everyone will win. In fact, there can only be one winner. A drug dealer, an exotic dancer, a drug addict, an entrepreneur, a district attorney, and a rich kid, are all desperate in some way. Whether they need the money, or are looking for something different and need a break from their boring everyday life. It may seem that these contestants have nothing in common, but that's not the case. They have one very important thing in common, their desperation to win the prize . But, winning the money is going to be anything but easy. Not only will they have to spend a full twenty-four hours together in a haunted mansion, but they will have to overcome their weaknesses and make alliances with their competitors just to survive. The many people who have visited Waverly Mansion have gone missing and never returned home to their loved ones. Are these contestants so desperate that they would risk their lives just to win money? A million dollars can mean the difference between life and death to some people, but there are many questions you need to ask yourself. Is the money worth the torment and anguish you will have to endure in order to win? What about your life? Is dying the price you are willing to pay in order to win that amount of money? Can these people survive long enough to claim their prize? Or will their desperation take hold of them and sabotage the other's chances at winning the game? Who deserves to win the money when no one is really the person they appear to be?