Snatching Her Scribbler
(2026)(The third book in the Stockholm Syndrome for the Win series)
A novel by Anna Svoboda
Slava
I’ve killed dozens of men and felt nothing. No guilt. No hesitation. No mercy. Blood used to make me feel alive. Now even that is starting to fade. Then someone puts a hit out on Caleb Sinclair.
He’s nobody. A soft, boring man who irons his underwear, eats microwave dinners, and writes mediocre thriller novels. He has five fans and a cat. He is, objectively, the least interesting target I’ve ever had.
So why can’t I kill him?
I’ve tortured stronger men for less. Broken them faster. Ended them without a second thought. But every time I look at him, something stops me. And I don’t like problems I can’t solve.
Caleb
I was grocery shopping. Grocery shopping.
Now I’m naked, strapped to what I’m fairly certain is an autopsy table, and the most terrifyingly beautiful woman I’ve ever seen is sharpening knives in my general direction.
Apparently someone wants me dead. She’s been hired to do it. And she’s not in any particular rush.
The sensible thing would be to beg for my life. Instead, I tell her the lampshade she makes from my skin is going to be ugly.
I’ve never been chosen for anything. Leave it to me to finally get picked.
By a contract killer.
***
Snatching Her Scribbler is a dark romantic comedy featuring a morally unhinged contract killer heroine, a soft, awkward hero who should be easy to eliminate but isn'''t, and a love story that’s equal parts dangerous, ridiculous, and unexpectedly tender. Featuring forced proximity, role reversal, and a heroine who has never met a problem she couldn’t stab… until now. HEA guaranteed (your fingers and toes are probably safe… maybe).
Can be read as a standalone, but is best enjoyed after Claiming His Bunny and Stealing His Cupcake.
I’ve killed dozens of men and felt nothing. No guilt. No hesitation. No mercy. Blood used to make me feel alive. Now even that is starting to fade. Then someone puts a hit out on Caleb Sinclair.
He’s nobody. A soft, boring man who irons his underwear, eats microwave dinners, and writes mediocre thriller novels. He has five fans and a cat. He is, objectively, the least interesting target I’ve ever had.
So why can’t I kill him?
I’ve tortured stronger men for less. Broken them faster. Ended them without a second thought. But every time I look at him, something stops me. And I don’t like problems I can’t solve.
Caleb
I was grocery shopping. Grocery shopping.
Now I’m naked, strapped to what I’m fairly certain is an autopsy table, and the most terrifyingly beautiful woman I’ve ever seen is sharpening knives in my general direction.
Apparently someone wants me dead. She’s been hired to do it. And she’s not in any particular rush.
The sensible thing would be to beg for my life. Instead, I tell her the lampshade she makes from my skin is going to be ugly.
I’ve never been chosen for anything. Leave it to me to finally get picked.
By a contract killer.
***
Snatching Her Scribbler is a dark romantic comedy featuring a morally unhinged contract killer heroine, a soft, awkward hero who should be easy to eliminate but isn'''t, and a love story that’s equal parts dangerous, ridiculous, and unexpectedly tender. Featuring forced proximity, role reversal, and a heroine who has never met a problem she couldn’t stab… until now. HEA guaranteed (your fingers and toes are probably safe… maybe).
Can be read as a standalone, but is best enjoyed after Claiming His Bunny and Stealing His Cupcake.