The 13
A Shadow Lake Ranch Companion Novel

Prologue

Kara

It wasn’t the heat of the summers I dreaded anymore.  It was the curse of cabin six.

We used to joke about it—me and Nolan.

After that first summer, the quips had waned.  But the second summer brought new heat, new recruits—and a new body.

We’d still laughed about the fact that the victim had been related to someone who stayed in cabin six at Shadow Lake Ranch, but not as hard.

And when that third murder rolled around, I’d seriously started to think something was wrong.

But the bodies kept coming.

I didn’t actually believe in curses.  I was a cop, a detective.  I believed in patterns. But thirteen bodies after thirteen betrayals had been one hell of a pattern.

It started with Mel—the woman who quickly became the most hated woman on the internet.  But it didn’t stop there.  And Mel quickly became replaced by other victims who were anything but poor dupes who had had their lives stolen prematurely.

But the real question became just who were the victims.

And as Nolan and I listened to one sordid tale after the next, one thing became abundantly clear: there were always shadows lurking at Shadow Lake Ranch.

But now…we were finally starting to see them.

Read The 13 for all the "victim" perspectives.  Find your free copy on the map.

Welcome to Shadow Lake Ranch!

I’m so glad you’ve found your way here. Use this map to explore the property and learn more about the people, places, and stories that make our ranch so special.

Click any symbol to uncover secrets, histories, and hidden moments from the Shadow Lake Ranch books.

The skulls mark the lost souls whose stories are told in The 13. Find the key to claim your free companion novella. The daisy — well, that’s me — here to help you find your way.  If you need me again, just click the daisy!

Take your time, and tread carefully. Some paths are more dangerous than they appear.

— Hope McCrae, Director

Coming soon!

They say Cabin 6 doesn’t haunt you — it studies you.

It watches who you trust, who you love, and who you’d swear would never hurt you. Then it finds the crack and widens it.

Every guest who’s stayed there has faced a betrayal so sharp it split their life in two. One lost a best friend to a stolen love. Another was blamed for a sin she didn’t commit. One uncovered a family secret buried in blood.

They left the cabin thinking it was just another room. But the walls keep their promises, and the lake keeps their names.

They say if you stand too close, you can feel it watching — searching for your fault line.

If you’ve clicked this cabin… it already knows yours.

Her Last Best Friend
Prologue

Mel

I was hated.  Like really hated.  Like torch-me-on-the-internet-and-let-it-live-forever hated.

And I had earned it.  Not that I cared.

For some reason, I thought this one would be different.  I don’t know why.  She was stronger than I was prepared for.

I underestimated her.  I underestimated a lot of things.

Why I thought this decade of life would turn out any different than the first three, I couldn’t tell you.

Maybe it was her.  She was so sweet. Almost invisible.

All of my victims were.  But she…was different.

And for a long time, I thought we’d make it.  I really did.

I never thought she’d really be seen.  Not by him.  Not by anyone.

It was supposed to be the summer of our lives.  And I tried. I really tried not to be that woman.

If she’d known my reputation, she probably never would have been my friend, but I really thought she was.  And I really thought I’d be different.

I’d booked the double occupancy cabin at the Montana ranch, giddily sending her the confirmation the moment it came through.

I’d chewed my lower lip as I stared at pictures on the website that called it a “luxury retreat for emotional renewal.”

Think yoga mats in barn lofts, raw honey with every meal, and bonfires for bonding every night.

You were supposed to learn to ride and trust, rope and breathe, let it all go and pick it all up.

I thought it would bond us even more.  I thought maybe she’d be my ride-or-die like I told her I was.

She was so easy to encourage because I knew she’d never outshine me.  Until she did.

And that damned ranch exposed me.  Harsh spotlight, raw and unflinching.  Meanwhile in that same light, she sparkled, soft and angelic.  Untouchable despite my desperate attempts to paint her as the devil.

But it all cracked apart faster than I expected.  Things went sideways.  People saw more than they should.  Whispered more than I’d planned.

She stopped being invisible.  I stopped being untouchable.  And once that balance shifted–

There was nowhere to hide.

I told myself it didn’t matter. He was just a man.  And I didn’t even want him.  Not really. I just wanted to prove I could.

And I said she was just some stupid girl.

I didn’t care if I fixed it.

Until it was too late to fix anything.

We’d come to bond.  We’d ended drenched in blood.

Some stories end in forgiveness.  Ours didn’t.

Like I said, I was hated.  And that’s why I was murdered.

Ready to read more? Grab Her Last Best Friend now.

Her Last Good Deed
Prologue

Victor

I destroyed people.  Not with lies.  With the truth.  

And most people couldn’t handle that.  

I built an empire on stories no one wanted told.  Affairs. Scandals.  Secrets they thought were buried.  

But I splashed them on the cover of every tabloid I owned from coast to coast.  There wasn’t a corner left to hide in once those stories went to print.  

I didn’t just print the stories–I decided what made someone worthy of destruction.  Who deserved a ruined reputation.  

And those people I set my sights on?  They didn’t fare well at all.  

Some of them lost their jobs.  

Some of them lost their spouses.  

Some of them lost everything.

A few even put a gun to their temple and took the coward’s way out. 

But only one of them put the gun to mine. Only one of them made me pay. 

By the end, they all wanted me dead.  Not just wanted–they wished it, whispered it, maybe even planned it.  

Can’t say I blame them.  I knew what I was.  

I was the villain in everyone’s story.  The controlling narcissist.  The ex.  The husband.  The man who ruined lives with well-placed headlines.  

But here’s the thing: none of it was false. And that’s what made me dangerous.

Everyone remembers the last thing I said.  Not because it was profound–because it was printed. Immortalized.

And no, I don’t regret it.  

If I sprang back to life right now, I’d print it again.  

They gave me the story.  I just gave it a place on the front page.

She begged like a dog.  That was the headline.

Well, one of many.  But that was the headline that kicked off the entire spiral.  

That’s not where the story began.  It’s just the place where everything unraveled too badly to fix.  Where five words sent my world hurtling toward a fall I couldn’t recover from.

So many people wanted my blood. Only one got it.  

But the rest?  They toasted it.  

Everyone who lost something to The Sun’s headlines raised a glass to the end of my reign.  

“You’re going to end up on the wrong end of a bullet one day, Vic,” Callie had warned. 

“You can’t just mess with people’s lives like that,” Alex had cried.

And Wes?  “How could you do this so casually and think you’d get away with it?”

But I didn’t make the mess.  I’d just handed out shovels and let them dig their own grave.  

Only this time, that last headline? That one buried me.

Ready to read more? Grab Her Last Good Deed now.

Her Last Buried Secret
Prologue

Camille

I wanted everything.  Earned or not, but I had a strong case. 

And she…well, she was so weak.  

She was needy and whiny.  

Maybe I was, too.  Not petulant like her, not crying over imagined wounds.  Mine was justified. 

I had reasons.  Good ones.  

She had nothing–or so I told myself.  

No, she may not have had reasons like I did, but she had everything else.  

Everything.  

I’d done whatever it took to get my share–to take what was rightfully mine.  

This was supposed to be my chance.  The one thing that no one could take from me.  

I had the birthright. 

I was the first.  

But she was treated like the first.  

And that made me so angry.  Unbelievably angry.  

I tried so hard to push it down.  I punched pillows.  I threw darts at her face.  I smiled when I wanted to scream.  I softened when I wanted to be razor-sharp.  

I tried to be sweet.  I tried to be smart.  I tried to be the better daughter.  And still it wasn’t enough.

Somehow she always won.  

Even when I thought I had the upper hand.  

I’d come in so strong.  I’d had it within my grasp.  

And she’d still managed to rip it all away. 

If only I’d been able to spin things just a little differently, to keep things under wraps for a little longer.  

Why had she been so smart?  

Smarter than I expected, really.  I genuinely thought she’d be far dumber, far more emotional, stubborn, thrown.

Anything.  

I would have taken anything to get just a little further.  Would have done anything.  

But I pushed too hard.  Way too hard. 

I did things that would have gotten me doxxed on the internet like that other woman–Mel Halston–who had slept with her best friend’s boyfriend in the same room at that stupid ranch that ruined my life.  

But I wasn’t as stupid as that woman.  I was smarter.  Just not smart enough.  

It didn’t work out for Mel Halston.  And it didn’t work out for me either. 

It had started out so well.  I’d had her.  I’d had him.  

She loved me. He could have, too.  

And then she came into it.  Screaming.  

And they just bounded to her side.  Every whimper, every tear, every sob chipped away at all of that progress.  

I could have had it all if only she’d stayed away for just a little longer.

But she didn’t.  She poisoned everything.

And I had to do what I had to do.  I had to take back what was mine.  

And that?  That’s what got me killed.

Ready to read more? Grab Her Last Buried Secret now. Link Coming Soon!

Her Last Quiet Lie
Prologue

Leah

I wasn’t what anyone thought.  But maybe that’s because no one took the time to know me. 

Not really.  

They only saw what they wanted to see.  

Sweet.  Kind.  Quiet.  

That’s what they saw.  And no one thought that was fun or cool or interesting.  

And that’s what I really hated.  It’s what I hated the most, actually.  

It’s what kept me awake so many nights.  

I used to wonder if anyone else lay awake thinking the same things.  But probably not.  The lucky ones sleep just fine.

The cruel twist? I never wanted to be this way.  But every time I tried something else…it failed.  

When I opened up, everyone else closed.  When I stood my ground, I was told I was too much. 

It just never worked for me.  

And I’d spent hours and thousands of dollars in therapy trying to figure out why.  But the therapist didn’t know.

The idiot told me that I just needed to stop seeing myself as a victim.  

Except I was.  

I was a victim of everything.  Of the world.  Of people.  Of even my best friend. 

This wasn’t a mindset issue.  I couldn’t reframe it.  Nothing fixed this fact. 

I couldn’t think my way out of this.  I couldn’t just smile bigger or say what I really felt and have people respond.

Why it worked for some people?  I still hadn’t figured that out.

I went to my grave not knowing why life went effortlessly for some people while others struggled to get even one person to pay attention or cut them a break.

And it’s one of the reasons I was dead, to be honest.  

Because when I tried to become someone else, it blew up in my face. 

Like it always did. 

I just needed one win.  Just one.  

And no one could let me have even that.  

I’d tried so hard.  Tried to be the person who people noticed.  The person who deserved to win.  The person whose life finally went her way.  

But I didn’t have that easy way, that effortless smile that charmed people.  

My laugh wasn’t a song. My appetite for life wasn’t large enough.  

Or some other nonsensical thing that people uttered when they described those bubbly, effervescent people who glided through life on a cloud.

But no one described me as those things.  

No one shook their head after my death and said things like, “What a shame. She was so full of life.” 

I got things like, “It’s always the quiet ones.” 

And it is, isn’t it?  It’s always the quiet ones.  Because we’re carrying more pain than people can ever see.  

But the real problem isn’t the pain.  It’s the way it comes out.

And mine? The release of my pain didn't set me free. It got me killed.

Ready to read more? Grab Her Last Quiet Lie now. Link Coming Soon!

Her Last Chosen Family
Prologue

John

I was a God-fearing man.  But there wasn’t much else I feared in this world.  Certainly not a woman who didn’t understand her place in it.  

They were usually easy to manage.  

But I miscalculated this one. 

And I had been so close.  So very close to having exactly what I wanted.  

I’d done all the right things to get it.  

Said the right things, worn the right clothes, pushed at the right time, backed off at the correct moments.  

She’d been so easy to manipulate, too.  At least at first.  

Older women always were.  I never understood why men my age wasted their time chasing younger women.  The older ones had more time, more money, and were way easier to bring around to your way of thinking. 

A few smiles, a few pats on the hand, even a back rub here and there could work wonders.  

A few whispered words about how they deserved to be pampered, to be seen again, to be remembered as a woman instead of whatever category the world had put them in, and they were yours.  Every time.

They’d do almost anything.

Sadly for me, the word “almost” cost me everything. 

If I’d just had more time…

If I’d just said a few more words…

Or even if I’d been a tad softer in that final confrontation…

But I hadn’t.  And in the end, she’d chosen the mess.  She’d flinched instead of taking the righteous path.  

There was a reason God asked Abraham to prove his loyalty.  Because sometimes love isn’t enough.  Sometimes a man needs proof.

Action.

Sacrifice.

But she wasn’t willing to give it.  

I should have known better, but I thought she’d be my greatest conquest.  I thought she’d be easier to deal with.  

I thought the divorce she’d been through would have made her more…pliable.  

When he’d left her holding the bag, it should have made her realize what picking a weak man did for your life—what being allowed to control your household when it was never a woman’s place paved the way for. 

It was written all over her daughter and that tattooed menace she’d fallen in with.  

If she couldn’t see what she’d done—what she’d raised…then there was no helping her.  

But I hadn’t done anything wrong.  I’d only done everything right.  Everything I should have done.  Everything to keep my household together.

The she-devil and her spawn had torn it apart, though.  

They hadn’t been as easy to manage as I hoped.  And that one miscalculation had cost me my life.

Ready to read more? Grab Her Last Chosen Family now. Link Coming Soon!

Coming soon!

Coming soon!

Coming soon!

Coming soon!

Coming soon!

Coming soon!

Coming soon!

Coming soon!