Bethany Stickelmeyer

The first time I met Hudson Rothschild was at a wedding. I’d received an unexpected invitation to one of the swankiest venues in the city. Hudson was a groomsman and quite possibly the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. He asked me to dance, and our chemistry was off the charts. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with him, considering the wedding I was at. But our connection was intense, and I was having a great time. Though the fun came to a screeching halt when Hudson figured out I wasn’t who I’d said I was.

Finneas Alexander Barlow is a walking thirst trap. Tall, hot, and broody. Tousled brown hair, chiseled jaw, alluring green eyes, perfect teeth, well-groomed beard, broad shoulders, and lips good enough to bite. He’d look like a Disney prince if the prince was a broody ahole. Four years ago, a fated meeting led to an inevitable hook-up. Just one. It’s his rule. One-time hook-ups, no information exchanges, and no repeats. I knew that even before he established his boundaries, and he kept his promise. I hadn’t seen or heard from him since.

With his world unraveling around him, and pressure rising at home, Joey Lynch's life has never been in more turmoil. Desperate to prove himself worthy of the only person he's ever put his trust in, Joey fights to stay away from a world that threatens to destroy everything. But with the odds stacking against him by the day, can he keep his head above water?

After failing my last semester of grad school, I decided to come back to my hometown and wallow in my boyfriend’s sympathetic arms. Instead, he proceeded to dump me...for being boring! Now, I'm not typically a spiteful person, but there's only so much I can take. Hence why I’m holding the box of his most cherished possessions...stolen possessions no less!

Viggo Bergman, hopeless romantic, is thoroughly weary of waiting for his happily ever after. But between opening a romance bookstore, running a romance book club, coaching kids' soccer, and adopting a household of pets—just maybe, he's overcommitted himself?—Viggo's chaotic life has made finding his forever love seem downright improbable.

You want the diamonds? You want the mansion? You want the lake, and boats, and the cars? You want the security? And the man? Then you do what you’re told. I live in his castle. I sit at his feet. I wear his collar. I am his offering. The Chosen Ones...the Ruling Class. They are a breed apart. And yes, that pedigree matters. Not just anyone can rise above and become their equal. It takes sacrifice.

North Hunter has worked hard to step out of the shadows of his orphaned upbringing into the limelight of Hollywood. He never imagined a dark moment from his childhood returning to destroy everything he’d built. Devastated, he finds comfort in the isolation of an exclusive members-only club in the Scottish Highlands, even if the club comes with a prickly estate manager who sets his blood on fire.

Kerris Moreton knows how to make things work. Bounced from foster home to foster home as a kid, she adapted; when opportunity arose, she thrived. Now, about to open her own business and accept a marriage proposal, Kerris is ready to build the life she's always wanted. The only thing missing? A passionate connection with her would-be fiance, Cam. Kerris wants to believe that sparks are overrated—until Walsh Bennett lights her up like the Fourth of July.

My buddies made me do it. I swear. I didn’t plan to bid big on a date with my baseball player best friend at the auction. But he looked really good in that tailored suit, and I can't resist a dare. The media jumps all over the story–the city’s new quarterback nabs a date with the bigshot star shortstop.

Carter Beckett is the NHL’s resident bad boy, top player both on the ice and in the bedroom, and quite possibly the sexiest man to ever grace my field of vision. But worst of all? He knows it. He’s arrogant, self-centered, and the man doesn’t seem to know what a filter is, let alone how to use one. He’s had everything served to him on a silver platter, including endless strings of women, and apparently, I’m up next. I have the solution to all my sexual frustrations in a drawer at home, and it’s far less complicated than Carter Beckett.