Are There Any Similar Books To Killer Hair?

My boy friend Caleb Ford's childhood sweetheart, Julia Leclair, is losing her hair from chemotherapy. So, he orders me to cut mine off and make her a wig. "Julia's allergic to synthetic wigs. You've been growing your hair for ten years—it's perfect." I refuse, but his friends tie me down. Someone shaves my head to the scalp, buzzing through my thick, glossy hair until nothing's left but a butchered mess. Julia sits in her wheelchair and laughs, saying I look like a toad. Caleb smiles and nods in agreement. He adds with a chuckle, "It's just some hair. Was that really necessary?" But back when I was bullied for having uneven, choppy short hair for six straight years, it was he who stood in front of me. He had his arms spread wide as he shielded me from harm. Now he's the one wielding the blade. One by one, their little circle chimes in. They tell me not to hold a grudge against someone who's sick. Caleb snaps impatiently, "Stop trying to talk sense into her. She can get lost! Did you see that fit she threw over a few strands of hair? It's not like they won't grow back." I turn around and walk away. I never look back. Later, I hear that Caleb begs for my forgiveness by kneeling his way up 9000 steps until his knees are ruined.

Have you ever woken one morning with a burning, insatiable desire to go out and kill someone? Sarah Killian, a notoriously foul-mouthed and mean-spirited serial killer for hire, along with her cohort assassin Mary Sue Keller, are back on assignment for the Trusted Hierarchy of Everyday Murderers (T.H.E.M.). After receiving an ominous warning from a mark-gone-wrong, it becomes clear that Nick Jin—Sarah’s former nemesis—is still at large and singling her out. Sarah and Mary Sue are dispatched to Tennessee to discreetly kill off an accused family of KKK organizers, but their true mission is to lure Nick Jin into a trap. But will Nick—always several steps ahead of T.H.E.M.—see their bait for what it is? One thing is guaranteed: blood will be shed. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

He told me he wouldn't call. I told him he would. I was right. He pushed me away. I pushed back. He put a gun in my nightstand and a penthouse key in my palm and told me he'd burn the whole city down before he let anyone touch me. "You're playing a dangerous game,Gaby." "I've been playing a dangerous game since the night I sat down at your table." He's a killer. I knew that from the start. The silver hair. The steady hands. The way his body moves before his brain has time to catch up. He's possessive. Ruthless. Cold as the blade he used to carry-until he's not. Until his fingers are in my hair and his mouth is on my throat and every rule he's ever made about keeping people out goes up in smoke. "I can't promise you a future." "Then promise me tonight."

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.

He promised to protect him from a killer. He never said he was one. When journalist Ian Parker witnesses a brutal murder, he should have been the killer's next victim. Instead, he wakes up in the hospital, saved by Zhedya Hunter…a brilliant forensic pathologist, a reclusive CEO, and a man with chilling grey eyes that feel hauntingly familiar. Charismatic and dangerously possessive, Zhedya offers Ian shelter in his opulent penthouse, a gilded cage where every comfort is a chain. As Zhedya's obsession deepens, Ian's career skyrockets, with damning evidence against the city's most wanted criminals mysteriously falling into his hands. But each exclusive story comes with a price: a fractured memory, a drugged haze, and a growing pile of bodies connected to anyone who threatens their twisted paradise. Now, Ian is trapped in a nightmare of luxury and lies, unraveling a truth more terrifying than any headline: his savior is a predator, his sanctuary is a crime scene, and the man who claims to love him is the most prolific murderer he will ever interview. Learning how to love a murderer is easy. Surviving him is the real story.

Everyone says I have the face of an angel. However, I choose to take a knife and slash my own beautiful face. When my twin sister sees the drastic change in my appearance, she loses it and screams at me, wanting to know why I ruined my face. In my past life, she couldn't stop stealing food deliveries. When our next-door neighbor caught her, she shoved the pregnant woman so hard that she miscarried. The woman was seven months along, and both she and her baby died. But my sister just shrugged it off, bragging that she was some popular influencer, and two pathetic lives didn't matter. She even slapped down a 50-dollar bill like it was nothing, just to humiliate them. "Still trying to scam my money? For all we know, that woman's baby was already dead inside her. Your family must've done pretty awful things to deserve losing two lives like that!" When the dead woman's family showed up at our door with kitchen knives, ready for revenge, my sister chickened out and hid. Before that, she tricked me into coming home instead. The second I walked up to our front door, the grief-stricken husband slashed at my neck, severing the artery. I died right there on the spot. After I died, everyone spat on my memory. They all said I got what I deserved, and my parents covered up what my sister really did. She even had the nerve to come forward and apologize for me, cashing in on my death while hooking up with my boyfriend. The two of them became this perfect couple online and made tons of money. This time around, I decide to destroy my face. I want to see how she will steal my identity and pin her crimes on me now!