Meet Randi Burnett—she’s brilliant, she’s beautiful, and she works for the bride. Missing groom? Intoxicated in-laws? Crying ring-bearer? You name it, she wrangles it. Too bad her personal life isn’t thriving like her side gig as a bridesmaid for hire. Recently dumped, Randi throws herself into her biggest challenge yet when she’s hired as a maid of honor and pretend best friend for an ice queen bride. There’s just one problem—the best man is infuriating, overprotective, and anti-marriage.

Lowen Ashleigh is a struggling writer on the brink of financial ruin when she accepts the job offer of a lifetime. Jeremy Crawford, husband of best-selling author Verity Crawford, has hired Lowen to complete the remaining books in a successful series his injured wife is unable to finish. Lowen arrives at the Crawford home, ready to sort through years of Verity's notes and outlines, hoping to find enough material to get her started. What Lowen doesn't expect to uncover in the chaotic office is an unfinished autobiography Verity never intended for anyone to read.

Ryder, Garrett, Kenzo, and Diesel - The Vipers. Their deals are as sordid as their business, and their reputation is enough to bring a grown man to his knees, forcing him to beg for mercy. They are not people you mess with, yet my dad did. The old man ran up a debt with them and then sold me to cover his losses. Yes, sold me. They own me now. I’m theirs in every sense of the word. But I’ve never been meek and compliant.

Beckett: If you’re reading this, well, you know the last-letter drill. You made it. I didn’t. Get off the guilt train, because I know if there was any chance you could have saved me, you would have. I need one thing from you: get out of the army and get to Telluride. My little sister Ella’s raising the twins alone. She’s too independent and won’t accept help easily, but she has lost our grandmother, our parents, and now me. It’s too much for anyone to endure. And here’s the kicker: there’s something else you don’t know that’s tearing her family apart.

I'm addicted to my stalker. He watches me at night, sneaking in through my living room window and making my blood turn to ice. I feel him all around me as chills snake down my spine. Each night he becomes bolder, getting closer and welcoming himself into my bedroom, feeding his addiction.

Wherever I am, I'm the biggest guy in the room. People don't just gawk when they see me. They keep their distance, which is fine by me. Why do you think I bought a fixer-upper in the country? I don't mind the manual labor, just like I don't mind the solitude. I've got my own business and projects, and no room for anything—or anyone—else. That is, until an angel shows up on my doorstep, clutching a month-old advert touting a room for rent in my house.

Maximo and I, we were definitely a fairy tale. Not the cleaned-up, sanitized ones where life’s problems are solved with a smile and a song. We were the old-school kind. A twisted tales packed with murder, violence, and tragic beginnings. Okay, so maybe we weren’t a traditional fairy tale. After all, Maximo was more villain than prince. He was scarily sexy. Devilishly charming. Controlling, possessive, and dangerous. Especially when it came to me. His little dove. And heaven help anyone who tried to free me from my gilded cage.

Her father promised me life on the legal side if I saved his only daughter. I was her last hope. Something about this rich, spoiled princess captured me from the moment I laid my eyes on her. This green-eyed beauty made me want things I never had. She was untouchable. If I were decent, I’d keep my distance. But God knew I was the worst kind of sinner. She shouldn’t have wanted my touch. Now she was mine.

Two weeks in a tiny house in a small town with the woman who broke my heart. Or was it me who broke hers? It was complicated. And it was about to be a heck of a lot more complicated sharing one bed in the guest room with a woman who wasn’t mine anymore.

They warned me that the very sight of me would incite a side of Maverick I would want to flee in fear of. But I had no place else to go. My only option was to brave his wrath to survive. His darkness reaches into me, pulling at something raw, something I don’t understand. With every word he slays me, his every touch burns along my skin. He breaks down my walls, igniting my fiery temper all the while laying bare desires I was never meant to feel, much less act on. Beneath the fire and fury, I glimpse the cracks in his armor and the man he’s desperately trying to hide.