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Family. Responsibility. Stability. As the co-CEO of Bayou Enterprises and the eldest of the Boudreaux clan, Beau is the epitome of these. Now that his baby sister, Gabby, is happily settled down, Beau has moved into the company loft in the heart of the French Quarter to be closer to his office while his own home is built. He doesn't have time for anything but the family he adores and the company that drives him. If only the bewitching owner of the herb shop downstairs from Beau's loft weren't so damn tempting.

It was just another after-work happy-hour bar downtown, where business professionals unwound with a few drinks, complained about the boss, maybe hooked up with someone for the night. Until something went terribly wrong. At first it was just a friction in the air. The noise intensified. The crowd seemed oppressive. Some sharp words were exchanged, some pushing and shoving. Then the madness descended. And after 12 minutes of chaos and violence, 80 people lay dead.

One of the most dynamic and globally recognized entertainment forces of our time opens up fully about his life, in a brave and inspiring book that traces his learning curve to a place where outer success, inner happiness, and human connection are aligned. Along the way, Will tells the story in full of one of the most amazing rides through the worlds of music and film that anyone has ever had.

All she wanted was a family. It wasn’t to be. Ripped apart at the loss of her unborn babies and the uncaring lovers who’d rejected her, Heather locks away her heart. Her dreams never come true. She has nothing left to lose. She will warn the God that the appointed guardian of Rainier territory is destroying the clan. If she dies during the ritual, so be it.

On a chilly February night, during a screening of Psycho in midtown, someone sunk an ice pick into the back of Chanel Rylan's neck, then disappeared quietly into the crowds of drunks and tourists in Times Square. To Chanel's best friend, who had just slipped out of the theater for a moment to take a call, it felt as unreal as the ancient black-and-white movie up on the screen. But Chanel's blood ran red, and her death was anything but fictional.