Brynne: I’m in debt up to my eyeballs. School has drained everything, including part of my soul. Now that I’ve graduated, the economy has turned, and there aren’t enough jobs available. I have to figure something out before I drown. My friend Alyssa may have been joking about going on television for a fast cash infusion, but it’s starting to look like a viable option. A new season of Stranded is looking for next season’s contestants, and the pay is more than fair, even if I don’t make it to the end. Sending my submission off will be easy. I probably won’t be chosen because I’ve never camped in my life, but my father was a survivalist. There must be some of his tenacity in my veins, right?

Slate: I’m so off-grid that even my past can’t find me. That’s the way I plan to remain. Until the end. No more high-brow, heavily guarded lunches, meetings that drone on into the wee hours of the morning, or dealing with people. That was, until today. I stumbled upon a brunette bombshell practically in my backyard. A backyard I paid a fortune to keep empty. Winter has only just begun. As I watch her, I assess that she won’t make it. She knows nothing. She’s going to die out here. For some damned reason, I can’t let her. Captor and captive begin a battle of wills during one of the worst winters on record in the Pacific Northwest. There will be heat and blood. The question is: will they both survive?