Lisey Sweet Pure Taboo Direct

The door swung inward, and the basement wasn’t a basement at all. It was a garden. Moonlit, impossibly deep, full of flowers that bloomed silver and black. And standing among them was a man—or something like a man—with eyes like amber and a smile that knew every lonely hour she had ever spent.

She pressed her ear to the wood. The tapping stopped. Then a voice—low, honey-smooth, patient—said, “You’re awake.” lisey sweet pure taboo

“Then you have nothing to fear.”

She was seventeen, pure in the way only someone sheltered could be—hair in a braid, cheeks dusted with faint freckles, a collection of pressed flowers hidden inside a dictionary. She believed in good manners and quiet evenings. She believed her uncle when he said the basement was unsafe. The door swung inward, and the basement wasn’t