Why Is 'August: Osage County' Considered A Dark Comedy?

​In the neon-soaked heart of Las Vegas, two worlds are destined to collide: one built on absolute power, and the other on desperate survival. Lucien Thorne is a 1.8-meter-tall predator who owns the very air of the Strip, ruling a global empire from the shadowed VIP lounge of his premier club with a heart of stone and a mind for cold calculation. He is the devil who never negotiates and never forgets. Stepping into his line of sight is Aurelia Van Guard, a woman who should have been a college graduate but is instead a daughter drowning in her father’s gambling debts and her mother’s terminal illness. Forced to take her mother’s place on the stage of the city’s most elite club, Aurelia is a girl with everything to lose, hiding her double life behind a veil of glamour. She is a survivor looking for a way out; he is a hunter who never lets go. When the "Devil" turns his eyes toward the new girl in the spotlight, the game changes. In a city where everything has a price, Aurelia is about to find out if she can escape the grasp of a man who feels no remorse, or if she will become the one thing the devil finally refuses to let go.

My girlfriend's so-called guy best friend found out I had epilepsy. He deliberately spiked my drink with stimulants. The moment I drank it, my nervous system was overstimulated. My heart rate surged. My chest tightened. Then the familiar warning signs hit–blurred vision, fragmented awareness, the onset of a seizure. The next second, I lost control of my body and collapsed onto the floor. My muscles convulsed violently. My jaw locked tight. My breathing turned uneven. I struggled to pull out the emergency medication I always carried with me, trying to stop the seizure from worsening. However, just as I was about to take it, I realized the hot water in my bottle had been replaced with highly concentrated coffee. The extra caffeine intensified the neurological stimulation. My convulsions worsened. My thoughts became more chaotic. My fingers stiffened to the point where I could barely move. Aaron Stone looked down at me on the floor and laughed. "Not bad. You're pretty convincing. "I've seen plenty of seizure patients before. Never seen anyone act this well." Gasping for air, I forced myself onto my knees in front of Mia, my jaw tightening from the spasms. "Mia... call an ambulance... I'm having a seizure..." Mia frowned at my obvious condition, but there was only impatience on her face. "Enough already. "If you keep acting like this, it's honestly too much. Since when can people having seizures still talk? "Aaron's a doctor. With him here, what could possibly happen to you?" I stopped trying to explain. Because I was already entering the next stage of neurological collapse. Even speaking had become difficult. Using the last of my strength, I pulled out my phone and sent an emergency distress message.

Adrian Moretti’s adopted sister—She knew perfectly well that I suffered from severe asthma and could not be exposed to smoke or strong scents. Yet during the yacht reception, she deliberately dragged me onto the open deck, where cigars burned nonstop and the wind howled. Within seconds, my chest tightened. When I reached for my inhaler, my blood ran cold. It was empty. I collapsed against the railing, gasping violently, my lungs burning as if they were collapsing in on themselves. She crouched beside me and smiled. “You’re always so dramatic. It’s just a little smoke. You don’t need to act like you’re dying,” she said softly. “You’re too weak. You need to build some tolerance.” I looked toward Adrian, my vision already blurring. “Adrian,” I choked. “Give me my inhaler. If I don’t use it right now, I’m going to suffocate.” He frowned slightly. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” he said coldly. “I’ve never heard of anyone dying from a bit of smoke. She’s right—you’re always seeking attention. We finally gathered tonight, and you’re ruining it.” My heart dropped. I fumbled for my phone and called my mother. “Mom,” I sobbed, barely able to breathe. “I’m being bullied… and I can’t breathe.” My voice shook violently.

Oscar Miller was Shirley Bishop's personal bodyguard, but when she got attacked on her birthday, he shielded her foster sister, Myra Bishop, with his own body. Shirley got cut three times—once across her face, once on her arm, and a third that stabbed her lower abdomen, leaving her unable to have children ever again. But even after all that, she still wanted to marry him. Later, Oscar did marry her—but he never touched her, not even once, all the way until his death. At his funeral, the insurance company showed up. "Mr. Miller purchased a large insurance policy before his death. The beneficiary is Ms. Myra Bishop." That was when Shirley realized that after all these years, Oscar had never gotten over Myra. Now, she had been reborn to when her father asked her to choose from four men she had grown up with to be her husband. This time, she decided to fulfill his wish and picked someone else.

My husband, Hank, is dead.  On our wedding anniversary, he ventured out in the pouring rain to buy me a cake, only to be hit by a truck. His body was badly mangled in the crash.  My sister-in-law, Lyra, called me a killer, claiming that I did not deserve Hank’s inheritance.  My mother-in-law, Judy, kicked me out of the house.  Overwhelmed by grief and guilt, I often wondered if he would still be alive had I stopped him that day. Eventually, emotions gripped me, and I was diagnosed with cancer.  Judy came to visit me on my deathbed. “You’re an idiot to believe everything!”  She threw a family photo in my face.  The shock and anger were more than I could handle, and I breathed my last.  It turned out that Hank was never dead. He had a child with his old flame.  When I opened my eyes once more, I returned to the day my husband faked his death.

Zoey is hardly what you’d consider princess material. Born in flyover country, she never learned how to curtsy, let alone walk in high heels. And when she literally trips into the arms of a handsome stranger at her friend’s wedding, she thinks she’s finally found love. Freddie Prescott is a charming prankster. Despite his carefree attitude, he pursues Zoey with an intensity that shows he can be serious when he needs to be. And with those rock hard abs and rippling biceps, his pursuit of Zoey is a satisfying one. Without realizing it, Zoey finds herself falling in love. There’s only one problem: Freddie is a prince. Spending a week without Internet access or phone reception has left Zoey in a weird predicament. He certainly left enough hints that he was rich and famous, but he never outright said it. And when the time comes for him to leave their vacation getaway, he asks her to come with him to the kingdom of Paradisa. But Zoey can’t use the right fork, put her pinkie up for tea, or any of the things expected of a princess. Plus, there are those in the kingdom who don’t want an American close to the throne. How can she hope to keep Freddie’s love if she’s a stranger to his royal world? NYT Bestseller Krista Lakes brings you this brand new sweet-and-sexy royal romance. This standalone novel will have you cheering for an American princess’s happily ever after.