My music made a lovely magic. It was tiny magic, sure, but effective: it thickened the air and deepened the candles' warm light, caressed the listener like intimate fingertips and teased sleeping nerve-endings toward a gently quivering wakefulness.

Go, me. I made it all happen.

Need help? You probably shouldn't ask Grey.

He's a runaway Fey prince in New York City. He feeds on love like some kind of vampire. He really doesn't like people.

Then a monster hunts him down in late-night Manhattan, ruins his vacation, and forces him into the fight of his life.

He's marked, and monsters are coming for him. Grey had no plans to be ahero, but that doesn't matter. This time, he isn't pulling the strings.