It all started when I was six years old. I was homeless. They were held prisoner. I saved them. Even though it put me in the system. They believed we built an unbreakable bond forged by trauma. These beautiful, damaged boys saw me differently than the rest of the world. As much as I wished I could feel the same. I couldn't. These boys—men—had too much anger. Too much hate.

I don't know what it is about this man that has captivated me like no one else. It's made me question everything I think I know about myself. But that's fine—I'll obsess from afar until I graduate and move on with my life. Then I'm handed an exclusive invitation to Rumor, the frat's 'gay chicken' club that performs in front of a camera. The one who doesn't back out first wins cash. Thinking maybe I can clear up this curiosity once and for all if I try my hand at dick, I go.

They tricked me into a dark and unholy union. Three bastards in witch hats, leather pants, and iron masks. These supernatural stalkers have claimed me for their coven. They won't go away. These assholes will. not. leave. All because I fell for an urban legend: touch the Witch's Tree on a moonless night and discover magic. Wholesome magic like: kinky rituals, blood sacrifice, and jizz potions. Oh, and a forest god who eats people—while they're still alive and screaming. Send help, and I'll send cupcakes.

I don't fall for women. Women fall for me. I'm Lake Decker, best running back in the league. Former. After a debilitating injury forced me to step back from my budding career, the last thing I thought I'd be doing was drooling at the feet of my stale-looking therapist. But her saucy attitude, strict professionalism, and the occasional shiner have my curiosities piqued.

One minute, I'm in a hospital, about to kick the bucket, and the next, I’m in a weird jungle teeming with ridiculously oversized bugs and demon-like lizard people determined to enslave me. Nope, I didn’t die. And no, sadly, it’s not a hallucination.