I kept smiling when I caught my fiancé coming down my sister’s chimney on Christmas Eve. I gave polite congratulations when they got engaged. And I even offered to help decorate for their Christmas wedding despite the fact that was supposed to be my dream wedding. But when my sister cuts up my great-grandmother’s one-hundred-year-old wedding dress and turns it into a skank show, even though that was the dress I was going to wear on my wedding day? Well, this elf is torching down the North Pole.

Christmas is bad enough without all the music, frantic shopping sprees, and holiday parties. So many parties… with people you couldn’t stand in high school and definitely can’t stand now. Top of the list? Patty Harrison. She made my teen years miserable and, now that we’re adults, she’s trying to get me banned from the Christmas market. Even so, I’m not going to commit literal murder.

When your grandmother stalks the star hockey player on the rival team because “You need a husband, Dakota—you’re not getting any younger!” it’s Christmas crazy on ice.

In my perfect world, it would always be winter and never Christmas. I despise the holiday. I hate carols, shopping, and pretending to be a perfect family. I walked away from my family, or rather, they walked away from me. My heart is like ice. See it creeping up the walls. Oh, wait, no, that’s royal icing.

In truth, it probably didn’t help that I showed up dressed like an elf but that’s a story for another time. Our start was rocky at best which is why it’s so frustrating that I can’t stop thinking about his sexy British accent. Or the way his chest and arms fill out his suit. Or his perfect hair with that single streak of grey at the front.

I admit it was me who shouted, “Looking good, hot stuff!” at Mr. Richmond this morning, but I didn’t mean it like that. Yes, Mrs. HR Lady, I know how it looks. Believe me, I am totally anti-catcalling, but that’s not what that was. Honest. I was paying him a compliment! That’s kind of what I do: I’m a proud, small-town Floridian, and Manhattan is craving some Florida sunshine—nothing like a sincere compliment to turn those New York frowns upside down!

Welcome to life as a wedding planner for the rich and entitled of Manhattan. I’ve seen it all - from the nastiest bridezilla to the most overindulged billionaire. And Evan is the worst. Tall, dark, and handsome, he has a ridiculously ripped body under his formal suit and runs a massive hedgefund that’s actively making the world a worse place. I don’t even feel sorry for him when he walks away from the alter in a daze

With the name Holliday, you’d think I’d be all about the Christmas season. Most years, I am, but this one not so much. Between my ex being a real Scrooge-in-the-backside, re-entering the workforce, wrangling my two children, and evading my eight-year-old’s questions about Santa’s existence, I’m struggling to believe in the magic myself.

He’s an Army Ranger. She’s a baker. He’s organized and ridged. She’s messy and carefree. He doesn’t do relationships. She’s following her heart. His family chat blows up his phone. She just buried her last living relative. The holiday season doesn’t seem so jolly, as they venture from one mode of transportation to the next.

The only thing we have in common is that we’re both tall. He wears bespoke suits; I wear flats with holes in them. He runs a big shot investment firm; I’m trying to start my own company with only bubble gum and circus peanuts. He likes to show up at my horrible dates and ruin them; I…pretended I hated when he did that but secretly was thrilled even though it was a little young adult fiction.

She’s going to drive me nuts. Nevertheless, her perky everything, endless legs, and innocent eyes will come in handy. It’ll stop my family from pushing every country girl turned wanna-be Dallas socialite on me.

Fake date a grumpy boss for Christmas. Enjoy some forced proximity with a flirtatious best friend for Valentine's Day. Wake up married to an Irishman in Vegas for St. Patrick's Day. Every day is a hot and hilarious holiday with this family.

I thought I was over him. That his good looks and British accent couldn’t affect me anymore. But the minute our eyes lock across the elevator, all those feelings come roaring back to life. Then I find out we’re competing for the same job. Next comes the realization that we have to spend a week together on a ski vacation because of some six-degree-of-separation nonsense. The real kicker is when I find out the two of us have to share a villa. A very small, very cozy villa.

Rules are meant to be broken. Except for one: Women can't get enough peonies. Even the girl in front of me in line is admiring the peonies in my hand. While I need these particular flowers for my latest plot, I'll still give Meghan the biggest, thickest bouquet I can find. It's flattering how much she wants my peonies. And I don't mind personally delivering.

This Omega doesn’t do drama, drugs, or hockey players. The first two for obvious reasons. The last because I don’t shit where I eat. As the daughter of the Phoenix Heat’s owner, I know better than to dip my toes into that particular pool. The league is way too small a world, and I am a drama-free zone. When my daddy strongly suggests (read: insists) I come home for a visit, how can I say no? But without my besties by my side, there’s no one to stop me from making an epicly stupid decision when I discover the Heat’s captain in a compromising position.

I kept smiling when I caught my fiancé coming down my sister’s chimney on Christmas Eve. I gave polite congratulations when they got engaged. And I even offered to help decorate for their Christmas wedding despite the fact that was supposed to be my dream wedding. But when my sister cuts up my great-grandmother’s one-hundred-year-old wedding dress and turns it into a skank show, even though that was the dress I was going to wear on my wedding day? Well, this elf is torching down the North Pole.

I admit it was me who shouted, “Looking good, hot stuff!” at Mr. Richmond this morning, but I didn’t mean it like that. Yes, Mrs. HR Lady, I know how it looks. Believe me, I am totally anti-catcalling, but that’s not what that was. Honest. I was paying him a compliment! That’s kind of what I do: I’m a proud, small-town Floridian, and Manhattan is craving some Florida sunshine—nothing like a sincere compliment to turn those New York frowns upside down!

In my perfect world, it would always be winter and never Christmas. I despise the holiday. I hate carols, shopping, and pretending to be a perfect family. I walked away from my family, or rather, they walked away from me. My heart is like ice. See it creeping up the walls. Oh, wait, no, that’s royal icing.

Armed with comfy pants, overpriced coffee, and a highly anxious emotional-support corgi, I prepare to face him. Corporate boss. Villain. Salinger Svensson. I step into his office. His perfect mouth twists into a sneer. There is no heart of gold beneath that suit, just a big black pit. He’s a shark in the frothy waters of high-stakes finance. He might be the archetypal-asshole CEO, causing all in his path to quake in fear, but he’s never had to face down a basic bitch in her thirties.

Anyone but her. Eva Adams—the entitled, picture-perfect cheer princess. Incapable of empathy, patently manipulative, and absolutely beautiful. I can't afford her drama—I just want to play my last year of hockey without being kicked out of TU, but there she is on my first day back. Crying. In a weak moment, I make her an offer. An agreement I never thought she'd take. Except she surprises me, and now I'm faced with a dilemma. Protect my secrets… or win the girl.

The only thing we have in common is that we’re both tall. He wears bespoke suits; I wear flats with holes in them. He runs a big shot investment firm; I’m trying to start my own company with only bubble gum and circus peanuts. He likes to show up at my horrible dates and ruin them; I…pretended I hated when he did that but secretly was thrilled even though it was a little young adult fiction.

What do you do when you run into the men who made your childhood hell? Move in with them, of course! It was a decision made from one part desperation and one part need for revenge… I moved into their house, but they quickly moved into my mind every waking minute of every freaking day because they're different than I remember.

Christmas is bad enough without all the music, frantic shopping sprees, and holiday parties. So many parties… with people you couldn’t stand in high school and definitely can’t stand now. Top of the list? Patty Harrison. She made my teen years miserable and, now that we’re adults, she’s trying to get me banned from the Christmas market. Even so, I’m not going to commit literal murder.

Jamie is proud of everything he’s achieved. A consultant anesthetist and the medical education director - he’s a pretty big deal. So when one of his medical students falls asleep, right in the middle of a tutorial, he is furious. He’s a bloody good teacher, damn it! Maybe he could have been a little more understanding. Maybe he didn’t have to try to humiliate her. But the shock of how beautiful this particular student was when she finally opened her eyes, and his inappropriate reaction, only fueled his anger.

In a moment of weakness I sent out a cry for help—one that was answered by my estranged brother’s right-hand man. A murderer. A butcher. He storms into my life with his expensive suit pockets full of sedatives and cable ties in case I don’t approve of his form of protection. Let me assure you, I don’t. But when my world falls apart and I have nowhere else to go, I’m forced to escape with him.

He's baseball's biggest heartbreaker. I'm a recovering romantic...and his new trainer. Parker Knight is a smooth-talking pitcher with a smile for days and a roster of broken hearts behind him. Those are only a few reasons why a guy like him is never getting near my heart. After making a move to prove I deserve a place within my dad's baseball empire, the last thing on my mind is a playboy pitcher. I didn't know who he was when we randomly met off the field, and Parker certainly had no idea I'm the team owner's daughter. He thought I was going to be his next conquest.

They thought she was unsuitable as a bride because she was mute. I thought that made her perfect. Silent. Invisible. I could pretend she didn’t even exist.

Welcome to Carnage Island. Home of brutal chaos. Blood and tears. And nefarious schemes. A half-breed. A reject. A wolf without a mate. My family doesn't want me. My alpha disowned me. And my mate rejected me. So I’ve just been given a new pack assignment. Carnage Island. Home to the worst of wolf kind. Vicious. Cruel beasts. Wicked deeds. I’m not one of them. But I’m not a Nantahala wolf either. I’m something distinctly other: an Omega trapped in an Alpha’s skin. One step toward my fate, and all the males turn their heads. I’m fresh meat. Property to be claimed.

Being hired as the PR representative for the hockey team I’ve always been a fan of, should be a dream come true, especially because my old crush plays for them. My suggestion to save Briggs's career is solid… have him fake date someone wholesome who can change his image. That’s when my big mouth gets in the way and I admit to being the-girl-next-door. Now… my boss is offering me the promotion of a lifetime, but it comes with strings… Fake date Briggs Conley!

Sam Rider is mouthy, bossy, uppity as shit, and I have no choice but to deal with her smart-mouth since she’s my daughter’s teacher. Sam waltzes into our small town on a temporary contract equipped with brochures and more change than a single dad can handle. I never trusted anybody to tell me what to do and I sure as hell won’t start with Sam, ten years younger, a city girl and only in Starlight Canyon for the short haul. I have to watch those sinful pink lips tell me what’s right for three solid months and she won’t stop until I change my mind.