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.

You’d think nearly dying trying to get out of a too-tight gown in a dressing room and being saved by a strong, competent man was a good thing. Not so much, though, when that strong, competent man is your ex. Your secret ex. And the reason you need a gown is because you’re part of a charity auction. The charity auction where he gets into a bidding war to win you. And now, because you’re one of few female coaches in professional baseball, and he’s the captain of the local professional hockey team, and he paid a ridiculous sum of money for you…

Flat on my back is not how I imagined meeting my new boss and hot-as-sin rock star. But here I am . . .If I didn’t already have amnesia, I’d be wishing for it now. In my defense, Laird Faris was only wearing a shameless smirk and a towel wrapped around his chiseled abs when we met. Brooding. Devastatingly handsome. Utterly intolerable. Naturally, I’m instantly attracted to him.

Being a single dad while managing one of the biggest businesses in New Orleans keeps me very busy. I spend my free time with my daughter, Bella—reading to her, styling her hair, or choosing nail polishes appropriate for an eight-year-old. But I’m okay with that, because she is my whole world. After my divorce, I made myself a promise: I wouldn’t date until Bella was older. Then, all my good intentions go up in smoke when I hire our newest chef for the flagship restaurant in the French Quarter.

You want to know the secret to everlasting happiness? Never fall in love. That was the wisdom my father imparted to us James boys after our mom died, and it’s a piece of advice that’s served me well. Until dear old Dad asks me for a favor over Sunday brunch. No big deal, right? I love making my old man happy. Except this “favor” is a lot more complicated than picking up his dry cleaning. Dad wants me to marry and provide a few heirs for the James empire, and he’s even done me the courtesy of handpicking my bride-to-be. Lucky me.

A forbidden romance with my brother’s hockey teammate wasn’t on my to-do list when I moved across the country… Neither was getting locked out of a friend’s place wearing next to nothing. Or spending the night with the sexy stranger who rescues me. But I’m trying to get out of my comfort zone so getting out of the rest of my clothes with him seems like a good way to start. In the morning, I learn the filthy-mouthed man with the talented hands is not only the hotshot new hockey player on my brother’s team: he’s also–wait for it–my brand new roommate.

When an older guy with a dirty grin and an expensive suit flirts with me from the next barstool, I don’t realize I’m about to have a one-night stand with the man I desperately want to work for. After a night that leaves my world (and body) shaken, I start my summer job housekeeping in a five-star hotel even though I’m determined to kickstart my career in tech. As I dust and polish the Park Suite, in walks Mr. Dirty Grin—now with an icy glare.

One minute you’re a struggling graphic designer in L.A. who's finally coming to terms with being single forever, and the next, you're flying to New York in a private jet to get engaged to your ex-boyfriend’s older brother. At least...that’s what everyone thinks. Forced to clean up his playboy image in order to protect his company, Beckham Sinclair, the city’s most eligible billionaire bachelor, wants me to be his fake fiancée and personal assistant. Now I'm spending every spare second with a man I thought I’d never see again.

Guess who moved in next door? NYC’s top bachelor. And I’m not swooning—I’m cringing. He’s everything I despise. Grumpy. Arrogant. The neighbor from hell. The bigger bombshell? He’s a cutthroat hotel tycoon, now a major shareholder in my hotel. And guess what? He’s convinced he can charm me out of the rest.

I had one thing on my mind and that was never going to change: The game. The only goal I had was beating the records set by my family. I didn’t have time for anything else. Until she walked in the room. The earth shifted, just like the stories said it would. I said it wouldn’t happen—not to me. I didn’t have the time, but now she was the only thing on my mind. I knew it was her. Now I had to convince her.

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

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.

He's the most dangerous man in Chicago—and I'm his newest obsession. Dark emerald eyes. Black tattoos. A killer's smile… god, that smile… When I'm dragged to a secretive nightclub, the last thing I expect is to find myself in the owner's back office. But after he rescues me from a drunken creep, that's exactly where I end up.

I didn't plan to ever attend an event, but I needed the money. I thought it was nothing more than an adult version of hide-and-seek. I had no idea how wrong I was. Nor did I know I’d meet my worst nightmare that night: Andrew “Drew” Marshall, popular-as-hell football star and a Greek god among mere mortals. To anyone else, he would appear to be normal, a good guy. But that night I saw the cruel, dark monster hidden underneath. He was the epitome of evil, the leader of the Disciples, and I was his newest obsession.

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.

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.

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.

Eight years ago I fell into a secret summer fling with my best friend’s little sister before our lives went in different directions. Now, I’m the grumpy to Juliet’s sunshine on a popular dating podcast we host, and when a wealthy fan gives us a charming coastal cottage as the biggest thank you ever, we head to the town where I grew up to give it a makeover. And find the house has only one bed. Located under a mirrored ceiling.

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.

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!

I've been pretending for so long it's become normal. To the average person, I have it all… a multi-million-dollar contract to play baseball, four homes, and—if I choose—my pick of any gorgeous woman on my arm. The only problem? The one woman I want—no, need—in my life completely erased me from her memory when we were only teens.

When an older guy with a dirty grin and an expensive suit flirts with me from the next barstool, I don’t realize I’m about to have a one-night stand with the man I desperately want to work for. After a night that leaves my world (and body) shaken, I start my summer job housekeeping in a five-star hotel even though I’m determined to kickstart my career in tech. As I dust and polish the Park Suite, in walks Mr. Dirty Grin—now with an icy glare.

Your wedding day is meant to be the happiest day of your life. Not the day you discover your groom is a cheating jerk. When I run, strong arms catch me. It’s just a shame they belong to my ex’s nemesis, Oliver Deubel. Rich and powerful, the man is sin in a suit. He’s also arrogant, demanding, and infuriatingly irresistible. When my wedding disaster goes viral and deportation hangs over my head, Oliver offers me a deal: help him ruin my ex in exchange for my visa. The fine print? Move in with him.

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.

He hates me for some reason. I will not rest until I change his mind. People always like me. It's kind of my thing. All the employees at my tech startup think I'm the best boss, and the community partners and investors I woo not only trust, but adore me. Everyone likes me, except him. I may have been caught off guard when I accidentally insulted AJ Trachtenberg, but I'm pulling out all the stops trying to make it up to him…and it’s not working. Offering his students a swanky field trip doesn't win him over—it only seems to make him grumpier.

Being a single dad while managing one of the biggest businesses in New Orleans keeps me very busy. I spend my free time with my daughter, Bella—reading to her, styling her hair, or choosing nail polishes appropriate for an eight-year-old. But I’m okay with that, because she is my whole world. After my divorce, I made myself a promise: I wouldn’t date until Bella was older. Then, all my good intentions go up in smoke when I hire our newest chef for the flagship restaurant in the French Quarter.

You’d think nearly dying trying to get out of a too-tight gown in a dressing room and being saved by a strong, competent man was a good thing. Not so much, though, when that strong, competent man is your ex. Your secret ex. And the reason you need a gown is because you’re part of a charity auction. The charity auction where he gets into a bidding war to win you. And now, because you’re one of few female coaches in professional baseball, and he’s the captain of the local professional hockey team, and he paid a ridiculous sum of money for you…

Football star. Single dad. And once, a long time ago, mine. I’ve spent the better part of a decade forgetting Ford Ellis. If he had just stayed away from Montana, I might have erased the memory of his striking blue eyes and rugged smile forever. Avoiding him was easy when the only place I saw his face was on ESPN—and a remote control could fix that problem.

I'm not the kind of girl who expects happily ever after. In fact, I prefer my partners don't get too clingy. Don't get me wrong. I like a good night of loving, but beyond that, I’m happy to see them leave in the morning, without my number.

It was supposed to be a simple assignment: stake out the golden boy hockey player Cole “Mac” Mackenzie as he exited the arena after a Los Angeles Blades game. Follow him. Get dirt on his personal life—something salacious to please the money-hungry gossip rag I worked for. But I missed the moment Mac left the building. Or so I thought… Twenty minutes later, I saw actual Mac exit after the media left. Apparently, he’d used a decoy to throw off the press—waiting until everyone left to make his getaway in private. I started following the real Mac, and got more than I bargained for.

My brother’s best friend shattered my heart when he left to chase a dream of shoulder pads and glory. Now he’s back, but even worse, so is my crush. I’m not in love with Mason Sanderson anymore, so I keep telling myself. It doesn’t matter that he’s the face of every hero in any romance novel I’ve ever read. My new next-door neighbor is not the man of my dreams. The flutters and butterflies when I see him around don’t mean anything. As his best friend’s little sister, I’m the perfect choice when he needs a date for his former team’s fundraising event.

I agreed to be Isaac Keller's fake girlfriend. I know, crazy, right? He's the star of the hockey team and heir to a billion-dollar corporation. I should have run, but we've already established my level of sanity. Anyway, I agreed. The deal is done.

I don't do casual hookups, so I have no idea what to expect when I meet not one, but three hot guys who are into me. I'm an introverted, failing-book-shop-owning, romance-writer wanna be. But after my dating disaster at a hockey game all caught on the jumbotron I somehow have the attention of three men. Nathan Armstrong is the hot, older, sophisticated billionaire owner of the team.

Flat on my back is not how I imagined meeting my new boss and hot-as-sin rock star. But here I am . . .If I didn’t already have amnesia, I’d be wishing for it now. In my defense, Laird Faris was only wearing a shameless smirk and a towel wrapped around his chiseled abs when we met. Brooding. Devastatingly handsome. Utterly intolerable. Naturally, I’m instantly attracted to him.