Spark of Hope: A bi-weekly trauma support group. This is my nightmare. When I think of a support group, I think of sad people sitting around talking about their feelings and nothing changing. And yet, when my brother and his best friend, who happens to be a therapist, presented the idea of holding the meetings at my gym, I caved. Because I, Benjamin Price, have always tried to rescue the people in my life. But I can’t. I’ve usually failed them.

I like to party; to have a good time. Life’s too short not to. I learned that when I lost my grandpa. He told me to have fun while I can, and I intend to. Though sometimes when you’re having a good time, you forget others may see you as irresponsible. And sometimes you screw up. I’ve definitely screwed up a time or two, but I’m still determined to have fun. I’m hoping I’ll convince my best friend, Camden, to do the same along the way. He’s too serious. Too focused. Too busy taking care of everyone to just relax. And that’s where I come in.

PerryI moved to San Luco to get to know my brother, and so far, it’s been great. Working as a bartender at Shenanigans, a bar close to Franklin University, there are beautiful men and women everywhere. When a hot guy falls into my arms at a party, I’m down for some naughty fun. Until I realize he’s way too drunk for anything to happen. Thankfully, we agree to meet up the next day. One near-kiss later, I discover Theo has no idea I’ve been hitting on him. He thinks we’re hanging out as buddies, and to my great regret, says he’s straight.

Lark Levitt doesn't belong at Roosevelt College, at least in theory. Most students who attend the university come from wealthy families, and Lark is only a scholarship and a bus ride away from the trailer park where he lives. It's also a dream come true because dance is his life, and their program is one of the most prestigious in the country. But there are bumps in the road, like running into someone from his childhood.

The emo kid, the loner, the cynical wallflower with an attitude. It's no secret that I've never quite fit in. But it's glaringly obvious now that I've moved to this Podunk small town that seems to run entirely on sugar, friendliness, and cheer. (And cows, an ungodly number of cows.) I hate it—this place where everyone knows everyone, and I'm still the outsider. Who wants to fit in anyway? I've never really tried, never even thought I wanted to…until I met him. Jimbob is living his best life out here, farming the fields of Kansas, well and truly happy. And I just don't get it.

After everything I’ve lost in my life, it’s important that I keep myself tightly guarded. Especially around Bishop Sullivan. Dad would be rolling in his grave if he found out I was shacking up with a Sullivan, given the bad blood between our families. But eleven years after leaving, I’m back in Laurel Springs with something to prove: I don’t need the Sullivans, nor their land.

Being invited to my cousin’s wedding really shouldn’t be a big deal except, oh yeah, I haven't seen my family for a decade. My parents turned their backs on me, and I’ve done everything since to become successful and show them what they've lost. Only it’s kinda hard to be a success when you’re a walking trainwreck.

When it comes to hockey, I'm all about the game. I've worked for years to be one of the best in the league, and l've done it without splashing my orientation all over the tabloids. My hockey image is one I've carefully cultivated, and after one night with Ezra Palaszczuk, I risk it all. He's cocky, obnoxious, and has an ego bigger than Massachusetts. And okay, maybe he's the sexiest man I've ever known. We'll never get along. Not when we sleep together. Not even when my possessive streak awakens. That doesn't stop us from falling into bed together over and over again.

There’s nothing wrong with admiring a work of art, or so I tell myself…even when the admiring is more like peeping out my bedroom window, and the work of art is the shirtless, sweaty, body of the man who’s been mowing my lawn once a week every summer for years.

It's official: my step bro is the biggest himbo ever to himbo. He's a massive blond beefcake with a soft heart and an over-eager smile. The mere sight of him incites a shaking hot rage in me. He's everywhere. He's around me all the time. So sweet and gentle that it makes me feel wild. I see him and smell him everywhere. When I can't see him or smell him, I hear him. The wall between our bedrooms is paper thin. I can't help it—I hear what he does in his room when he thinks he's alone. I hear everything.

Of all the people who could have seen me when I was at my most vulnerable, it had to be him. Caleb. My stepbrother and the golden child of our messed up blended family. We barely know each other, but for some reason, he takes care of me when an incident at the club leaves me helpless and alone. He hates me as much as I hate him, but something about his bossy attitude and unflappable calm soothes me. I don't want to want him, but no one has ever made me feel the way he does.

As a 42-year-old single father, the last thing I expected before Christmas was for my daughter to sign me up for a community matchmaking event. The Christmas Buddies program becomes a challenge I can't wait to overcome when I realize the man that has been assigned as my buddy for the holiday season is none other than Paxton Montgomery. He's massive, grumpy, incredibly gorgeous (in a lumberjack kinda way), and also—weirdly enough—the only person in town who doesn't like me.

When I met Leonardo Ricci, he was determined I would only be a fling, while I was certain he was my forever. Seven years later, we’re the perfect couple. Happy, married, and in love–in sickness and health, till death do us part.

My relationship with twins Damon and Declan has always been close. Too close, according to what society has deemed appropriate between guy friends. But that's never stopped our hugging and cuddling—in public or private. My best friends knew I didn't receive affection from home, so they never let me go without it.

Reed Ellis is absolutely gorgeous but a total newbie to camming, a virtual nobody in my world. I should have just deleted his message request for a steamy on-camera collaboration. Not everyone is cut out to be a camboy. But there's just something about him I couldn't resist. He's timid and inexperienced, quiet and closed off, but his fumbling first times play out scorching hot for the cameras, and our videos together are an instant success. I know I should just ride this out, sit back and watch the money roll in, and then move on.

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.

Five Years Earlier: Henry Dunne knows three things: that agreeing to host this raucous house party was a terrible idea, that he absolutely cannot show up to his nursing shift tomorrow with a hangover, and that the beautiful redhead in the corner will be sleeping in his bed tonight.

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.

Obituary writer Nadine Barbault doesn’t mind being called “Lady Death”. It suits the ice queen persona she’s cultivated to survive the fast-paced Toronto Herald. So when Nadine learns that famous (and reclusive) author Dot Voline has died, she doesn’t hesitate to run the obituary…only to discover that Dot is very much alive. Nadine’s screw-up has brought Wesley Chen of the rival Spear no end of joy—she’s been a thorn in his extremely ambitious side for years. But the renewed interest in Dot also surfaced chatter about a mysterious past scandal.

After watching my mother succumb to a mysterious illness, I promised myself two things. I'd find the cure for what ravaged her and leave the godforsaken city where she abandoned me. Four years later, I received an acceptance letter from Dracadia University, one of the oldest most prestigious schools in the country. Nestled on a secluded island off the coast of Maine, it's rumored to be haunted by the souls of the mental patients exiled there centuries before, those whose bones are said to make up the island's white sandy shores. And restless ghosts aren't even its most daunting peculiarity.

Spark of Hope: A bi-weekly trauma support group. This is my nightmare. When I think of a support group, I think of sad people sitting around talking about their feelings and nothing changing. And yet, when my brother and his best friend, who happens to be a therapist, presented the idea of holding the meetings at my gym, I caved. Because I, Benjamin Price, have always tried to rescue the people in my life. But I can’t. I’ve usually failed them.

I like to party; to have a good time. Life’s too short not to. I learned that when I lost my grandpa. He told me to have fun while I can, and I intend to. Though sometimes when you’re having a good time, you forget others may see you as irresponsible. And sometimes you screw up. I’ve definitely screwed up a time or two, but I’m still determined to have fun. I’m hoping I’ll convince my best friend, Camden, to do the same along the way. He’s too serious. Too focused. Too busy taking care of everyone to just relax. And that’s where I come in.

I'm the rebel, the bad one. I follow no rules on the track or anywhere else. I'm the obnoxious bad boy the fans secretly root for. I don't mind playing my role. I'm good at it, and it pays to be the dark to his light. Until the good boy starts to get to me. I'm confused and unsure of what I want, when it was all so clear before. They say good always wins, but is that truly the case? In the race between the far-too-pretty good boy and the angry bad boy, who will actually win?

I’m a teacher who has only one thing missing from his life: a healthy relationship. I have a plan in place. This should be easy. No more toxic men. No more casual hookups. I want something real. A love that’s equal, not lopsided. I’m a fixer at heart, but I’m done with the hopeless and the selfish.

The weight of the legacy I carry is a constant tug in my mind, with the ghosts of the generations before me always whispering for me to push harder, train longer, be better. In the eight seconds I have to ride, everything else falls away, and my sole focus is on doing what I do best. I am Shooter Graham, consecutive three-time world champion bronc rider. No one has ever come close to taking the title since I've had it… until him. Sterling Addams. The new cowboy in town with dark hair, eyes like honey, and a taste for me he likes to pretend he doesn't have.