miriam maldonado

Emmett Lasker is impossible to work for. He might be model handsome and stupidly wealthy, but he also has it out for me. He’s given me more last-minute and weekend requests than anyone else, ruining any plans I make. I should quit. And I will. Just as soon as I hit my two-year anniversary and earn out my signing bonus. But after a particularly awful day at work, a breakup (via text!), and my computer crashing, I’ve had enough! So at 11:59 Friday night, I barge into Emmett’s office to tell him what I really think of him. Only, that’s not what happens. AT ALL.

Hudson Hopper is in trouble. After doing his business partner Jude a favor by hiring Jude’s younger sister Sloane, Hudson very quickly finds out that she is a massive distraction—especially since she’s now his assistant. Things get more complicated when Hudson volunteers Sloane to fill in as a bridesmaid for a potential client, and she agrees…with certain stipulations. She’ll be a part of the Regency wedding—corset and all—if Hudson marries her.

He proposed . . . and I said yes. Normally a jovial occasion for a couple in love, but this proposal has a very different feel. Because the man that I'll be calling my husband blew into town with one thing on his mind . . . to make my life a living nightmare. So why did I say yes? Well, because we both need something from each other. Namely, I want the farm land he currently owns, and he needs a wife in order to inherit his family cabin in his grandfather’s will. So as he so eloquently put it, my hand, for his land.

Shane Wilder: pro surfer, dream chaser, thief of my heart—and completely off-limits. It was infatuation at first sight. On our first date, he took me to watch the fireworks. It was a magical night of stolen kisses and whispered confessions under the stars. But it all came to a screeching halt when he asked the one question I’d been dreading: "How old are you, Remy?" Right guy, wrong time.

When my grandmother found out she didn’t have long to live, she embarked on a crazy trip—jumping out of airplanes and scuba diving with sharks. After I repeatedly voiced my concern, Gram blocked me—her own grandson—on text and social media, leaving me only her travel companion Eleanor’s number.

Gabriel Ferrara is tall and handsome, and most days she wants to stab her eyes out with a pencil, anything to stop her seeing his perfection. How any female could work in these conditions and not be completely besotted with him is beyond her. Then he opens his mouth and she remembers why. He's bossy and sarcastic, with a wit so sharp it could cut glass. Every weekend is the same . . . while he's off living his dream life, she's counting down the days until Monday when she sees him again.

The quintessential question asked to every couple. And the answer is usually some bubbly, lovey dovey tale of being struck in the bum by Cupid’s arrow. My meet cute (well, not so meet cute) is slightly different. I was trolling a wealthy neighborhood in Beverly Hills, searching for someone to take me as their bride, you know, to make my arch nemesis jealous who consequently just fired me.

In a few breathless moments, I will be Mrs Alejandro Montoya. He is the King of L.A. and everything a woman could want. Handsome, powerful, rich, and hotter than hell itself. But I am not just any woman. I am Alana Carmichael and I’m only here to save my father. I will not bow to any king. This is no fairy tale. This is my nightmare.

I’m a no-nonsense man. As the head of a business empire, I have to be. I’m logical, cut-throat, and don’t believe in cheesy things like marriage and happy ever afters. But when my best friend asks me to be Best Man, I can't say no. En route to the wedding, I get stuck at the airport when my flight is delayed, and this obnoxious woman sits next to me. Not only does she keep drinking champagne even though she obviously can’t hold her liquor, but she seems determined to push every single one of my buttons.

Who forgets marrying a football player? Me, apparently. Turns out countless shots and a bad breakup lead to questionable decision making. But waking up in Vegas with a ring on my finger beside a hot, naked man is hard to ignore. I married Parker Wilder. Thanks to our quickie nuptials, I’ll get my inheritance, and he’ll get his family and their well-intentioned meddling off his back.