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.

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.

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.

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.

Hattie Murton never dreamed of TV stardom. A straight-from-a-fairytale encounter with a casting agent somehow landed her a part on what she’d thought would be a one-off pilot for Leicester Square…

Growing up as the daughter of one of England's most infamous mafia bosses, my life was always going to be a hot mess. Walking into Castle University, I'm not just another student—I'm the apex predator in a brutal game of power, betrayal, and dangerous lust. Everyone's a player in this savage game I was born into, and as a dark threat looms, tracking my every move, I get closer to four magnetic guys—my current housemates. They call themselves the Kings of Castle.

I spend my days locked in a black-market nightmare, held captive by a twisted mastermind who considers me his prized possession. My only form of human contact is with the victims in the next room, each of whom disappears faster than the last. Everyone leaves… except me. Then I hear him—Isaac. Brash, elusive, and haunted, he isn't anyone's idea of a hero. Separated by a wall, our faces hidden, his voice cuts through the darkness, becoming my only hope. He's driven by vengeance, bearing scars as dark as my own. Despite his rough edges, a fragile bond forms between us—a lifeline.

Megan Dunn arrives in Seaside, Oregon a broken woman with a dream: open a B&B like she planned to do with her husband, Cass, whose life was tragically cut short five years ago. But the old Victorian she bought needs extensive renovations and the one man who can help her—Theo Valentine—takes an immediate and intense dislike to her. Left scarred and unable to talk after a terrible accident, the reclusive Theo is a brilliant contractor whose plans to renovate the building Megan bought are eerily similar to her own.

There are a million reasons why I shouldn’t date Fletcher Huxley. He’s a growly-faced, stubborn-streaked, international rugby legend trying to revive his flailing career in the US after being canned by his team overseas. While he might have the good kind of thunder thighs, intriguing tattoos, and a booty of steel, he also holds the top position on my very short nemesis list thanks to what happened the first time we met.

I hate Dante Moretti. He is cold, calculating, and vicious. It’s no secret that he wiped out his former fiancée and her entire family on the eve of their wedding. He’s the kind of evil that makes even devils cry. But that’s not why I hate him.