Death was his destiny. Until vengeance intervened…

A ghost town, isolated from civilization by miles of scorching desert, has become a killing ground. Blood taints the sand and the stench of rot hovers on the humid air.

It’s a small patch of hell that Aleksandr Sokolovsky was born into. The son of the world’s most prolific serial killers, he yearns for a freedom he’ll never have. He comforts himself with the knowledge that death eventually comes for everyone. But he had never considered the Furies.

Summoned by years of pain and rage, the three demonic sisters have descended upon the ghost town. The creatures of Greek legend are real. Consumed by their desire for blood and vengeance, they rain down a reckoning. They delight in ripping their victims’ minds and bodies to shreds before offering a merciful death.

For most of his life, Aleksandr has been ready to die. But he’ll fight to his last breath to spare his younger brother and sister the same fate. Unable to battle the hellish creatures alone, Aleksandr is forced into an uneasy truce with Evelyn Figueroa, the woman his parents chose to be his first female victim.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "I can't decide what is the scariest part of this series. The family of serial killers? The kidnapping of Evelyn, a champion kickboxer, to be a worth while "fight" for Allexander's birthday. The run for their lives. The furies. The hiding. Is everyone in this book crazy? Be read for a crazy ride." - Reviewer

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "I devoured this book. I couldn’t put it down once I started reading. Solid characters, great action and just the right amount of gore (at least for me). Highly recommend." - Reviewer

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "I’ve read all three books in the series, and all I can say is impressive. The standout is all three elements of a good story; the well developed characters, the unpredictable plot, and the realistic scene settings. Plus it was an easy read, with short chapters, making stopping points frequently. I read the series straight through; but taking breaks when I wanted to savor the moments. I would read more by this author." - Reviewer

Books Included in the Bundle:

✅ Pound of Flesh (Book 1)

✅ Devil's Playground (Book 2)

✅ Scorched Earth (Book 3)

455 pages

Chapter 2

“Evelyn!”

Hearing her coach’s shout over the noise and clatter of the gym, she furled herself until her back pressed against the punching bag. Heavy bag sit-ups weren't new to her exercise routine, but she still couldn’t grow to the disorientation of hanging upside down. More precisely, seeing the flipped version of the gym while blood rushed to her head as the punching bag she was latched onto swung slightly. Her thigh muscles trembled as she forced them to squeeze the bag a little harder. There was still the threat that they'd give out and drop her onto the padded flooring. Still, it was a nice rest for her aching stomach muscles.

Her coach waved an arm over his head to grab her attention. “You’re up,” he called. “Show some hustle!”

Contracting her abs, she hurled herself against gravity to grab the top straps of the punching bag. The chain rattled as she gripped it, released her legs, and dropped to the mat. It was strange to be upright again. Even stranger to walk. She was halfway across the gym before she had worked the wobbly feeling from her legs. She relished the sensations. The pull and throb and twitch of well-worked muscles. It was proof that she was pushing herself.

Like the others who would be sparring today, her kit was set out on a folding table near the boxing ring. Ankle brace, headgear, mouth guard, and gloves. She strapped them all into place with practiced ease. Even so, her coach wasn't above looking put out and annoyed by the time she was set. There was no real anger in it. Coach Wallace kept his praise rare but heartfelt. No shallow appreciation or coddling. Evelyn liked that about him.

Coach Wallace pulled up one of the middle ropes as he stomped down on the other, giving her enough room to sweep inside the ring. The mat gave a little under her feet. A slight, passive resistance that was familiar and welcoming and always enticed her to bounce on her toes. Her opponent for the night was already inside. Evelyn and Judy shared a smile that was all excitement and anticipation. There were a good few women who worked with Coach Wallace, but not many wanted to turn kickboxing into their profession. So, even though Evelyn and Judy were dancing on the edges of different weight classes, they were often put together for training. That was fine by Evelyn. Judy was always fun. She was fast, dedicated, and fierce.

“Tired?” Judy teased.

“I can still take you down.”

“Prove it.”

“You know, we really need to get better at trash talk,” Evelyn said.

Judy chuckled and turned to Coach Wallace. “Yeah. Aren’t you supposed to teach us that or something?”

“You’re both idiots,” Coach Wallace dismissed. All he needed was a wave of his arm to get the women to focus.

They exchanged a smile, tapped their gloves, and waited for the bell. Evelyn loved this part. When adrenaline heightened the anticipation. When her muscles twitched with the barely contained desire to throw itself into the fight. Before the ding had faded, Judy was already taking advantage of her extra height. Her roundhouse kick snapped straight towards Evelyn's head. There was a little time to block the blow, but the impact still hurt. It made Evelyn stagger to the side, but she quickly regained her footing enough to jab at Judy’s exposed inner thigh. That got her to back up a little bit. They danced around the ring, exchanging strike for strike, both reveling in the contest. The pain and motion and the way their bodies came alive. It was addictive.

Crouching to avoid a right hook, Evelyn spun on her toes and slipped behind Judy. The world passed by in a blur, but one figure caught her attention. A man she had never seen before stood by the far wall. Spending most of her time at the gym, she knew everybody by sight at least. But she’d never seen this man before. Stranger still, he was dressed in a crisp button-down shirt and slacks instead of workout gear. What stuck out the most was that he was staring at her. Unwavering. Unblinking. A smile slowly curled his lips, provoking a chill to creep down her spine.

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