Ashton Brooks has lived under the umbrella of her family’s name and her father’s dreams for as long as she can remember. Already the perfect daughter and a straight-A-student, what more could be asked of her? Breaking out of the mold deemed to be her future was never even in her sights. Until she met her cousin’s new roommate. With his chartreuse yellow eyes and chiseled abs, Crew Evanston was everything she didn’t know she wanted, and everything her father despised.

"You may now kiss your bride". They were the last words my mother heard before she collapsed on the church steps, poison ending her pitifully short life. When her new husband dies minutes later, all eyes turn to me. There are whispers. Accusations. The verdict is split. I murdered them both. Or I'm the next to die.

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....

Callum Griffin is the heir to the Irish mafia. He’s ruthless, arrogant, and he wants to kill me. We got off on the wrong foot when I set a (very small) fire in his house. Our families believe a marriage pact is the only thing that will prevent all-out warfare. I think I might need to murder him while he sleeps. This would all be a lot easier if Callum wasn’t so damned good-looking.

Harley left LA behind a long time ago. But when she hears of her father’s death, it’s the only thing that could bring her back to town. Once a tough, kick-ass biker girl, now she’s bought a Prius and dresses in conservative gear. The only reminders of her youth are the angel wings tattooed right across her back. But waiting in LA are two sinfully hot men, her old motorcycle, and a tougher biker version of herself she thought she’d never be again.

These Royals will ruin you...Ella Harper is a survivor - a pragmatic optimist. She's spent her whole life moving from town to town with her flighty mother, struggling to make ends meet and believing that someday she'll climb out of the gutter. After her mother's death, Ella is truly alone. Until Callum Royal appears, plucking Ella out of poverty and tossing her into his posh mansion among his five sons who all hate her. Each Royal boy is more magnetic than the last, but none as captivating as Reed Royal, the boy who is determined to send her back to the slums.

Camilla dreams of the day she can leave her life behind. Saying good-bye to the mother she's never been good enough for, to the bottles there's always money for, to the bills there's never money for - and most of all, to being the help in someone else's dream home. But the scholarship to her new private school that gives her a real chance at a future comes with one big catch: Hunter Beck.

I don't want to be at this ridiculous frat party, and I certainly don't deserve to get it in the neck from a rude girl in a sparkly purple dress. But when she pushes me away, I feel like I'd do anything to get in her bed. And when I find out she's forbidden fruit, I want her even more. I tell myself I'm only looking to fill her mouth with something other than smart talk, but it turns out my little spitfire has way more to her than meets the eye.

Raquel has a reputation around town. When she's not dominating the luxury real estate market, she's enjoying the company of yet another young girlfriend. Because there's nothing that sates the appetite of the neighborhood cougar like the firm flesh of her 20-something prey. But Raquel isn't immune to heartbreak. Her therapist believes she dates co-eds because she's attempting to recreate the great romance of her youth. The one that ended when her ex-girlfriend left her for someone else.

I just moved in with my billionaire best friend (and secret crush), Oliver Humphries. He’s the all-star. The jock. The golden boy. And I’m no match. I’m the nerdy, frizzy-haired, not-so-skinny friend. The moment I met him at 14, I was in L-O-V-E. I’m under no illusion I stand a chance. Living with him? Not a problem.

Maybe, if we met at another time - another life - he could’ve been mine. Maybe, if I were older. Maybe, if he wasn’t my brother’s best friend. Maybe, if he wasn’t my teacher. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. Having my dirty little secret living down the hall had me obsessing over alternate endings and happily ever afters. I’d never wanted someone so badly, but his hot and cold behavior was giving me emotional whiplash.

When I was a kid, my dad was the gardener for the richest man in town. His daughter, Lily Barnes, told me she could never like a guy like me. Then she kissed me and told me it would never happen again. When it happened again, she told me she could never love me because she was going to leave this place, and I would never leave my dad. We were never quite friends, not exactly enemies, and we could never quite stop secretly kissing each other. She never said goodbye before running off to try to make it as an actress. That was her dream, and I wanted her to chase it.

Break the new girl. That should be easy, right? Trash like her doesn’t belong at Burberry Prep. No, Marnye Reed is going down, and we plan to make a spectacle out of it. Let’s see who can make her fall in love first. Bet’s on. Any takers? Take on the filthy rich boys. They’re the idols of the school, veritable gods on earth. Old money. New money. A rising star. These guys are nothing like the ones at my old school. I might come from nothing, but I’m determined to be someone, and I won’t let them get in my way.

The things I want to do to my sweet, kindergarten-teaching, mitten-crocheting best friend Libby Collins are 10 different kinds of wrong. Maybe 20. But I'm a firm believer in teaching by example, and by the end of our first sex lesson, we've graduated to a hands-on approach to her education: my hands all over her, her hands all over me, and her hot mouth melting beneath mine as I prove to her there isn't a damned thing wrong with the way she kisses.

I’m the type of girl who’s given up on fairy tales. So when Beck – the hot new busboy at work - starts flirting with me, I know better than to get my hopes up. Happily ever afters aren’t for the average. I learned that the hard way. But how can I be expected to resist a man who can quote Austen, loves making me laugh, and seems to be everything hot and good in this world? Only there’s so much more to him than that. Billionaire playboy? Check. Troubled soul? Check.