Karen long

Romance can be a little complicated when you get sucked into a wormhole. Just ask high school English teacher June Flint. One little solar flare happens and suddenly you find yourself 85 years in the future. Eighty-five years from your dream job. Your ailing mother whose only companion in this world is you. Your favorite stuffed-crust pizza from DeLucia’s on Sunday nights. But when June’s cell phone inexplicably picks up a signal, she’s able to call back to the present—more specifically, four weeks before she accidentally time traveled.

Wanted: one hot billionaire to pose as my Christmas boyfriend. Must be willing to make my cheating ex jealous when you kiss me under the mistletoe at all the holiday parties. Bonus points if you make him cry. To my surprise my billionaire boss is more than up for the challenge of coming down the chimney as my holiday boyfriend. The sexy single dad desperately needs a plus one at a Christmas Eve wedding, where he’s the best man and I’m the maid of honor.

I’m the oldest of all the Dixon boys. Yeah, that family. And, yeah, that Dixon. The one with a notorious temper and devastating fists. My family tried everything short of giving up on me, but there’s only one person who can calm me. Savannah Riley Dixon. Girl next door. My best friend. Sweeter than honey and stronger than whiskey. And the answer to my enraged soul.

I’m the only Dixon brother to step up when our family crumbled. When I took over the ranch, I lost everything, career included. My heart hadn’t been in it anyway. It couldn’t. A girl stole it a dozen years ago when she left, dreaming of a world outside our small town. Now she’s back. Different hair. New style. Kid clutching her hand. Wrecked by the man who put the ring on her finger. Not a trace of the Madison Black I knew.

I’ve got her brother’s approval, but now it’s Claire that I really have to convince. She doesn’t believe we have the right ingredients for a real relationship—so she only agrees to pretend to be my girlfriend to help me close a deal in New York. I believe she’s about to discover exactly how I roll when I know what I want. And what I want is her.

Rafe Bowman has arrived in London to meet the aristocratic young woman he hopes to marry - Natalie Blandford, the very proper and beautiful daughter of Lord and Lady Blandford. But the dashing American’s shocking reputation has preceded him. Before he can claim Natalie’s heart, Rafe must learn to navigate the conventions of London society to win her hand. Even with the best teachers - four former Wallflowers experienced in the art of matchmaking - the wildly rich and very impatient Rafe discovers that wooing a bride is far more complicated than he expected.

Maid-of-honor Emilia is looking for some stress-busting fun the night before her best friend’s wedding. And what’s more fun than a no-strings hookup? Good thing there’s an app for that, and she’s in luck - the sexy stud she swipes right on is more than happy to fulfill all her sexual needs. Her hot night with “Dirk” is everything she knew it would be. But this morning? He looks a hell of a lot like the groom.

Diana Dixon has a lot going on this summer. She’s rehearsing for a ballroom dance competition, juggling two jobs, and dealing with an ex-boyfriend who can’t take the hint it’s over. Yet despite all that, she still has plenty of time and energy to tell Shane Lindley to screw off. Shane just moved into her apartment building and seems dedicated to sleeping his way through her entire cheerleading squad. Sure, he’s a tall, gorgeous hockey player, but he’s messing with her turf.

Even though he's the epitome of tall, dark, and incredibly handsome, Remington Winslow has been a single bachelor for most of his life. It's cliched and basic—until you consider the fact that once upon a terrible time, he got left at the altar. And I'm just trying to survive a tangled web of unexpected motherhood and running one of the top real estate firms in the city that never sleeps. He's the jaded guy who doesn't want to settle down, and I'm the career-focused woman with more baggage than a 747 can hold. We're just two friends who used to be in love.

"I need a ride," I said to a sexy stranger on a Harley. Three hours later? A six-foot-tall Marilyn Monroe was officiating our Vegas wedding at the Happy Chapel. But it's not love—it's business—a marriage pact made out of desperation so my career doesn't go up in flames. Sure, Flynn Winslow is a hot, broody, mysterious man that women all over the globe would sell their souls to land for real, but I have my eyes on the prize and our marriage arrangement will end in three months with no strings attached. Right?