We are one week from release day for the first book in the BRAND NEW To Love a Psycho trilogy!
As this is a little different from previous works, I thought I’d give a little background to the series and a chance to read chapter one of Dream a Little Dream.
💀 To Love a Psycho Trilogy – A Dark MM Romantic Suspense Psychological Thriller Series 💀
When love becomes obsession, and desire turns deadly, how far would you go to survive the one person who sees you completely?
In a world where secrets cut deeper than knives, To Love a Psycho follows Aaron Jones—the son of two infamous serial killers—who has spent his life outrunning the shadows of his past. But when he crosses paths with Dr Kenneth Lyons, a brilliant yet morally conflicted criminal psychologist, obsession blooms in the unlikeliest of places.
Each book unravels the fine line between trust and betrayal, innocence and guilt, love and destruction. As a new wave of murders haunts their campus, Aaron and Kenny are forced into a game of survival—one where every touch could mean salvation or damnation.
Meet Kenny and Aaron…
Book 1: Dream a Little Dream (Coming March 3rd 2025)
His Student. His Obsession. His Undoing.
He’s the son of serial killers. He’s the professor who should’ve known better.
A forbidden connection ignites between Aaron and Kenny, but when a new killer mimics Aaron’s parents’ crimes, trust becomes their deadliest weakness.
đź“™ Book 2: Kiss Me Honey Honey (Coming March 31st 2025)
Every Kiss is a Sin
As bodies pile up and suspicion falls on Aaron, the bond between him and Kenny deepens into dangerous territory. With the past clawing its way back to the surface, survival means breaking every rule.
đź“• Book 3: Killing Me Softly (Coming April 28th 2025)
Some ghosts never stay buried and some lessons in love leave scars.
Aaron’s darkest secret resurfaces in the form of someone he thought he’d lost forever. Now, with the killer closer than ever, his love for Kenny could be the very thing that destroys them both—or sets them free.
Prepare for obsession, betrayal, and the kind of love that could ruin you.
So that’s a little about the books, now for a sneak peek, here’s the prologue for Dream a Little Dream and remember, you can preorder this right now, get it to your kindle and prepare to get OBSESSED.
Prologue
Ten years ago, September 21st, 2014
The cupboard door creaked open, piercing a narrow shaft of light through the bedroom. His mother knelt beside him, kind eyes pools of warmth in the dimness of the dark and dreary space. She ushered him inside with a gentle hand yet a quiet urgency, and through practiced obedience and a knowledge that good things were coming, he clambered in without hesitation. The coats wafted the faint scent of lavender and mothballs. He sneezed. The dust aggravated his allergies.
It wouldn’t matter in a minute.
“Time for your medicine, my darling boy.” His mum produced a syringe from the folds of her apron and he opened his mouth, the metallic taste expected and familiar.
He swallowed in compliance. The drowsiness would follow, but his mum would cuddle him until he woke cocooned in her arms. She’d be humming to him, too. Rocking him. Perhaps playing to him on their vintage walnut piano.
He enjoyed his long sleeps.
Felt safe.
If he kept really quiet, she’d reward him with a cookie after.
“Good boy.” She brushed a lock of his nearly translucent blond hair from his forehead, tender fingers tracing the contours of his delicate face, and her voice, a soft melody, filled the small void when she sang. “Dream a little dream of me…”
He so loved it when she sang.
It meant good things. A long sleep. Maybe two cookies…
His eyelids grew heavy but, entranced by his mother’s serenading voice, he fought them. She was beautiful in these moments. And as she hummed his favourite tune, her voice enveloped him, shielding him from whatever lay beyond the walls of his cupboard. From whatever she didn’t want him to see. To know. But tonight, her tone, although soothing, hinted at an emotion he couldn’t quite grasp. It wasn’t like it had been before. It unnerved him.
“Mummy…?”
“Hush now, honey pie.”
He did. And he hung onto her every word, her every note. Nothing could penetrate the safety net his mother swathed him in.
Could it?
Why was he questioning it?
She cupped his face in her hands with such care, as though he were the most precious thing in the universe, and through her singing, her impenetrable gaze, her unwavering love for him, she rid him of any fear. She was his, and he was hers. They always would be.
An unbreakable bond.
She stroked his cheeks, and he focused on her fingertips, soft and gentle, but the medicine and her lullaby forced him into the open arms of the dreamland she sang about. He couldn’t imagine a life where his mum didn’t sing to him anymore.
Life would be sad. Dreary. Dark.
A distant clamour shunted him alert.
His mother’s voice wavered, but she didn’t break the song, only darted her eyes towards the door. His little heart raced, matching the heavy footsteps growing louder, threatening to stamp over his carefully constructed existence.
“Remember, you are my good boy,” she said, her voice a fervent hush. “My boy. You’ll always be mine.” There was a promise in her tone, a fierce declaration extending beyond the cupboard walls, beyond the looming chaos, imprinting on him forever. And she cradled his face in her hands, pressing him to memorise how it felt to be totally, consumingly cherished. “No matter where you are, who you become, you belong to me. No one will love you as I do.”
Abruptly, reality shattered.
A door burst open, and the unyielding grip of his father wrenched her away from him, the cupboard door falling almost closed. Sleep evaded, he peered through the tiny gap at the confusing scene unfolding before him. Figures swarmed the room, an ocean of white. Official voices covered by masks spoke in harsh, rapid tones. Words he didn’t know. Didn’t understand.
“Mummy…?” He feared raising his voice, but he couldn’t see her. Couldn’t feel her. Where was she?
His mother’s silhouette flickered like the eight candle flames on his last birthday cake. He had a birthday soon. Was it today? Tomorrow? He couldn’t ask because his mother disappeared from sight, eclipsed by a mass of white. He pressed his face against the gap in the cupboard door, small fingers gripping the wood.
“Mummy…?”
Muffled shouts and dulled thuds of boots trampling through the house vibrated the walls and his chest squeezed, each breath sharp as jagged ice. He clung to his soft toy, the stuffing straining against the worn seams.
He was alone.
Darkness poured over him in swathes.
He veered closer to the narrow gap in the door, digging his fingers into the fur of his teddy. But a fierce scream had him jolting away. Her. His mother. Screeching a primeval sound tearing through the air and laden with a terror clawing its way inside his tiny heart.
“It was him. Him! Him!”
His father’s returning yell, brimming with defiance, cleaved through the disarray.
“Roisin! Roisin! I’m sorry! I love you, Roisin!”
Passing figures contorted into monstrous shapes on the wall opposite him, a puppet show of horror and his imagination conjured images far worse than any storybook villain, feeding his dread, pushing his pulse to race.
Then the unmistakable sound of a taser rang out, a morbid drumbeat marking the end of something he couldn’t quite grasp.
Life as he knew it.
He recoiled to the back of the cupboard, teddy absorbing his tremors.
Haunting silence followed. And he forced his quivering to still, listening for any hint of what lay beyond the safety of his walls. Moments dragged like hours, each tick of the clock on the wall outside like a thunderclap. Eyes wide, he never left the sliver of light at the bottom of the cupboard door where the shadows danced. Until a shape blocked his view, and the door creaked open, cutting a shaft of light through the darkness, illuminating him and crowning the silhouette of a man coated in white plastic.
He flinched away.
The man’s face, as he crouched to his level, was a mask of professionalism, but his eyes showed his horror at finding him huddled in his cupboard.
“Hey there.” The man extended a hand to him, then pulled down his mask to call out to those beyond his walls. “There’s a kid in here! Get family liaison. Now!” He then beckoned him with softer tones. “You can come out now. You’re safe.”
His words, though meant to comfort, hung heavily in the air. Was he safe? He didn’t think he was. His mummy wasn’t there, waking him up with a soft lullaby, stroking her delicate fingers through his hair, telling him he was precious.
“Where’s mummy?”
“You’re safe.” How could he be safe when she wasn’t there? “I’m a police officer. PC Bentley. You can call me Jack.”
With one last look at the familiar confines of the cupboard—his castle, his spaceship, his den—he placed his tiny hand in the policeman’s and stepped into the unknown.
“What’s your name?” Jack asked.
The world beyond the cupboard was a blur of white suits darting between rooms, urgent voices ricocheting off the walls. His heart hammered as he clutched his teddy to his chest and he shook his head in reply. He knew his name. But he wasn’t allowed to talk to strangers.
“Stay close to me,” Jack said, a gentle hand on his back guiding him onwards.
His home, once filled with laughter and bedtime stories, had transformed into an alien landscape. Family photos askew, drawers yanked open with their contents spilled along with their secrets, and his steps faltered as he was ushered towards the front door.
The cool outside air nipped his cheeks. He hadn’t been outside in…he wasn’t sure how long but long enough to not remember it, and he squinted as he walked into the night, blue lights atop the car painting the sky in strokes of sombre colour. His house, usually surrounded by peaceful woodland, was now guarded by navy and black uniforms, as if it was a prison. He darted his eyes around, searching for something familiar. Something safe.
But there was nothing.
Then, amidst the sea of strangers, stood a man, a figure of calm in the storm. With dark unruly hair to his jawline, intense deep eyes, no police uniform, and a furrow in his brow questioning his little hand clutched in the policeman’s.
“Did you know they had a kid?” Jack’s voice was hushed as he spoke to the dark-eyed man as if not to alert others to their muted conversation. Their exchange was a sparkling, crackling thing. Like a firework. Like his parents were when together.
The man shook his head, gazing down at him. A silent exchange passed between them, and in that moment, his own confusion mirrored in the man’s eyes. But he saw something else he couldn’t quite place.
His saviour?
No.
His tormentor?
Probably.
“Come on, buddy.”
Somehow, this didn’t feel like a rescue.
It felt like a kidnap.
He cast one last glance over his shoulder, searching for any sign of his mum, but only found the dark-eyed man staring at him as if confining him to memory.
He left an imprint right back.
“Let’s get you somewhere safe,” Jack said, securing him in the backseat.
As the car pulled away, the boy pressed his face against the window, watching the house, his home, and the mystery man shrink into the distance.
