Is 'If Chins Could Kill: Confessions Of A B Movie Actor' Worth Reading?

Every April Fools’ Day, Wilson Hale and Chloe Mercer turned our anniversary into a joke. A fake proposal. A trick ring. A room full of laughter. And every year, Wilson was sure I loved him too much to leave. This year, cake cream slid down my face, my ring hit the marble floor, and he still smiled like I would forgive him by morning. He forgot one thing. I was not Vivian Gray, the lonely girl with nowhere to go. I was Vivian Vescari, daughter of the most feared mafia family on the East Coast. I had left that world because I wanted to be loved before anyone knew my name. For six years, I thought Wilson was that man. Then I learned even his first confession had been an April Fools’ bet. So I stopped being the joke. I went home.

Do you have any dark secrets? I do. No matter how hot it gets, Mom never allows me to look unkempt in front of other people. Even after I start college, she still makes me wear undershirts when I go swimming. A classmate who can't stand me steals my undershirt and mocks me, saying I look like some pretty boy, all flimsy and effeminate. I refuse to take that lying down and want to duke it out with him. But when he looks at me, it's like he sees something terrifying. He whirls around and bolts. Later, he applies for a leave of absence. My dorm mates plan to visit him and ask me to go along. But the moment I reach the doorway, he grabs a broom and drives me away. "Get out, you freak! You're a monster!" he roars. Then, he turns to my dorm mates. "You'd better stay away from him. Otherwise, you'll be dead before you even figure out how it happened!" What he says completely baffles me, yet his words come true before long. Right before sitting for the grad school entrance exams, one of my dorm mates asks me out to blow off some steam. I go with him and end up drunk. When I wake up, I find him lying in the bathtub, the water dyed red with his blood. His body is already cold.

Hi there. By now, you know about the boys. Those guys who are too handsome to miss … too cocky to ignore … and far too dangerous to get involved with. And you probably figured out … these stories are not officially about them. Not completely. It’s about us. Girls like me. The ones who don’t mean to get pulled in. The ones who know better … but still fall in love. The ones who should have walked away … but didn’t. I wish I could say I was different. That I saw it coming. That I made the smart choice. I didn’t. So here I am. Aria Thompson. The next girl. Next one to fall for a San Francisco Boy. Enrique Lucio Blackburn. Famous actor. International model. Renowned playboy. Beautiful, broken … and completely unreachable. Big mistake. People think they know him. They see the smirk. The fame. The endless string of women. They don’t see the truth. He turned himself into a robot. Untouchable. Emotionless. Enrique Blackburn is allergic to love. And me? I walked straight into his world with a contract in my hand and desperation in my chest. My sister needed treatment. He needed to fix his reputation. So we made a deal. Fake girlfriend. Public appearances. Perfect photos. No sex. No love. No relationship. Simple, right? Yeah … not even close. Because the line between fake and real can get blurred very quickly. He started to matter. And despite the consequences, I let him steal my heart. I have everything to win, but much more to lose. So the real question isn’t whether I can survive this deal … but can I make the man who feels nothing … feel everything? Can I turn fiction into something real? And most importantly … can I make him say the words?

I'm a killer who accidentally sleeps with a mafia boss twice. The first time, I walk away without saying anything, leaving behind nothing but a note and a bank card. "Fantastic night. Thanks." The second time, he lands himself at the top of the killer hit list and has a sky-high bounty placed on him. Later, he traps me in his room as I fade in and out of consciousness, drowning in his presence. He holds my hand and aims my gun at himself with a chuckle. "You're shaking so badly. Can you even keep your gun steady?"

Desperate for money, I planned a livestream exploring the home of a notorious serial killer in the dead of night. I thought it would be nothing more than a publicity stunt to attract viewers. I was wrong. What started as a reckless grab for attention turned into the most terrifying night of my life and a brutal lesson in what it truly meant to stare death in the face.

BLURB One night. One murder. One photo that changed everything. I was just a broke journalism student trying to survive college on caffeine, ramen, and late-night shifts, Until I saw him pull the trigger. Lucian Romano. Green eyes like a forest fire. A smile that promises sin. And a last name that owns half the city… and most of its corpses. He should’ve killed me. Instead, he gave me a choice: Delete the photo. Say nothing. Or become useful. Now, I’m his “eyes” inside the university, spying on dealers, dodging bullets, and trying not to fall for the killer who sees me as a pawn. But secrets don’t stay buried. And in this game of blood, betrayal, and stolen kisses… One wrong move, and I’m dead. Or worse, his…