Lilah Love

As an FBI profiler, it's Lilah Love's job to think like a killer. And she is very good at her job. When a series of murders surface - the victims all stripped naked and shot in the head - Lilah's instincts tell her it's the work of an assassin, not a serial killer. But when the case takes her back to her hometown in the Hamptons and a mysterious but unmistakable connection to her own life, all her assumptions are shaken to the core.

Lilah Love's latest case is making her head spin. It’s a string of brutal assassinations carried out across the country, each tied to a mysterious tattoo. Body by body, she’s followed the clues all the way back to her hometown. And every step of the way, the killer has been following her. Beneath the glamour of the privileged Hamptons community is a secret long buried but never forgotten. It’s bigger than Lilah. It’s powerful enough to escape the reach of the FBI. And it’s more personal than anyone can imagine. Because it’s hiding in Lilah’s own past.

Women are dying. The killer wants to play a game with Lilah Love. Lilah doesn't play games, she doesn't submit to demands. The love of her life, her ex-lover that isn't so ex at all, Kane Mendez, knows that all too well, but like the hero or perhaps criminal that he is, he'll try to play the game for her. ​But this killer isn't playing with Kane, demanding Lilah step up or more blood will be shed. Lilah claims her role on the game board, and she'll do it to save lives, but she isn't happy. And when Lilah isn't happy, someone is going to die, all right, and it won't be her fault.

They call him Umbrella Man because he makes it rain blood. He wants to play with Lilah Love. What he doesn't know is that Lilah is a killer too, and games just piss her off. The conclusion to the second duet in the Lilah Love series. Love Kills concludes where Love Me Dead left off.

FBI agent Lilah Love leads a complicated life. She's engaged to Kane Mendez, a man most call dangerous, but hey birds of a feather, do flock together. She's dangerous, too, and in ways only Kane understands. As for their happily ever after, well that might have to wait. Right now, an old enemy who should be dead is still living, Junior, her mystery letter writer, is stirring up trouble, and her family is trying to prove they're crazier than her. On top of that she has a new case: a dead woman in a bloody wedding dress.

One. Two. Three. The cat is in the tree. As far as Lilah's concerned, her note writing stalker just gets more stupid everyday. One, two, three, the cat is in the tree? What is that? And what does it have to do with a wedding turned bloody?

Lilah is back home after two weeks away from the big, bad beast that is New York City, and with Kane by her side. The minute the chopper touches down, her phone rings. It's a local medical examiner who has been stalking her online, but then, she soon learns, so is half the city. Seems an online forum has popped up to follow Lilah, her serial killer mentor, and her drug lord husband. Call Lilah irritated as Kane is no drug lord, despite the cartel's wishes that he follow in his father's footsteps, her mentor is dead, and no one knows but those who buried the body.

Sometimes a girl just has to get stabby . . . Lilah has sworn she's done with that side of her personality. Then again, maybe not.

When someone close to Lilah is murdered in what is clearly an assassination, Lilah finds herself looking to Ghost, one of the deadliest assassins in the world. But is Ghost a friend or an enemy? Lilah's about to find out. But Ghost isn't the only one close to Lilah who may well be an enemy. Apparently, the line between friendship and murder, is bloody thin.

Lilah's enemies love to taunt her. For some reason, they don't seem to understand how much such things amuse her. For the first time, she faces an opponent just as cold, and highly calculated. Lilah. Ghost. A battle between killers.

Junior is back and stupider than ever. It's all of us and the nonsense is irritating. Of course, I have killers in front of me and all around me. I'm me. Kane is Kane. And both of us came by our bad habits honestly. We have crappy fathers. In other words, I push harmless Junior aside and head to a crime scene, and when I kneel beside the wealthy victim, I glance up to spy a painting that is pretty and one tone—red. When I inquire with the house manager about the artist, she can't remember who painted it, but she does know the name of the painting itself.