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.

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.

We're not free to give into this. She's 19, and I'm 38. And I'm her boyfriend's father. Unfortunately, they both just moved into my house.

Christine Daaé arrives penniless and hopeless at the steps of the great Paris Opera House, in search of an angel. What finds her instead is a man in a mask named Erik, a tortured soul masquerading as a ghost. Fascinated by Christine, Erik dons a new mask to be close to her: that of the Angel of Music. This strange patron awakens Christine's voice and soul...as well as desires she cannot understand. Their adoration growing, Erik and Christine remain separated by deception and darkness, tangled in a web of lust and lies.

Haunted by a dark secret, Dorian, the Duke of Rath, is consumed by wrath and guilt. The powerful lord will endure any torture to atone for his sins, even marry a perfect stranger—his victim’s little sister—to save her family from ruin.

I’m the good twin, the quiet one, the one who hides in the shadows. I never draw attention to myself, never cause my family concern, and most people forget I exist. My sister is my polar opposite in every way. Loud and in the spotlight, she likes to let people believe she’s the bad twin, but I know better. So when I’m mistaken for her, kidnapped and thrust into the spotlight, my three gorgeous rescuers, now bodyguards, are my only protection from the attention I’ve avoided my entire life—and suddenly, I want to be the bad twin.

Once the belle of her village, life took a dark turn for Adelaide upon her parent's death. Plagued by lingering grief, there was not a soul who didn't turn their back on her. They called her angry and spiteful . . . Hell, they called her a monster. One fateful day Adelaide finds herself alone, lingering on the edge of the Perished Woods—a cursed and evil place. Without warning, an orc army attacks.

Ex-cop Maxwell Fear knows all too well what can happen to a witness of a violent crime—which is why he has no choice but to protect her. Sloane Robertson is no longer the woman he met at a dinner party, or the woman he kissed at the front door. She’s a client, a job, nothing more than a person who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong damn time.