Night Milk

They killed her baby while she was still bleeding.

Eve Shepherd was the perfect pastor’s daughter until she wasn’t. When an unplanned pregnancy threatened to stain her father’s pristine reputation, her own mother smiled, held her hand, and then held her down while the church women took care of the problem.

Now Eve is alone in a hospital bed with empty arms, milk-swollen breasts, and a rage so quiet it could burn a city down.

Nathan Cross knows rage like that. He was raised on it. Molded by it. Built an empire from its ashes. A fixer by trade, a monster by nature he doesn’t feel things the way other people do. Never has.

He found Eve because her father’s church was already on his list. He stayed because she reminded him of someone he couldn’t save. When he offers her relief from the physical agony her body won’t let her forget, what begins as desperation becomes ritual. What becomes ritual becomes need. And what becomes need becomes something neither of them has a name for.

She whispers the names of the people who destroyed her. One by one, they disappear.

What he doesn’t offer is mercy. Not for her enemies. Not for himself. And not for the thing growing between them that neither one of them can control.

He feeds from her like a man starving. She holds him like the child she lost.

He’s not a good man. He’s not her salvation. He’s the weapon she didn’t know she was waiting for. And he’ll burn down every church in the country if she asks him to.

Night Milk is a dark romance containing mature themes including graphic intimacy, violence, religious trauma, infant loss, and morally grey characters. Reader discretion is advised.