After leaving the Big Apple and her bad memories for Tennessee, November starts working for her dad at his strip club doing the books. The one time she’s allowed there during club hours she runs into Asher Mayson. He’s perfect until he opens his mouth and makes assumptions. November wants nothing to do with him - but too bad for her - fate has other plans. Asher Mayson has never had a problem getting a woman - that is, not until November. Now all he can think about is making her his and keeping her safe.

When a scandal tarnishes the reputation of hot-as-hell A-lister Patrick Walsh, he needs a reputation rescue, pronto. Enter waitress Norah Peers - a nobody who’s average with a capital A. She’s available, dependable, and has sworn off men for the rest of her natural born life. In other words: the perfect match for a no-strings fake romance. For the right amount of money, she can avoid waitressing and play the part of his dependable down-to-earth girlfriend. What she can’t avoid - dammit - is the growing steam between them.

Conceited, unattainable, and downright delicious, renowned Michelin-starred chef Ambrose Casablancas has one passion in life: food. Women are a distraction, and he doesn’t do those. Especially Cal Litvin, his baby sister’s best friend. Her entire existence is a complication; she’s awkward, eccentric, infuriating… And, much to his chagrin, hotter than his kitchen. Ambrose has a lot on his plate: a new restaurant to open, a multi-million-dollar property deal to execute, and a violent stalker to tame. Then Cal shows up at his doorstep.

Marry a man I barely know to save my family from ruin. It might’ve been simple, if my betrothed were anybody else. On our wedding day, my husband-to-be arrived at the courthouse like a black cloud rolling over Manhattan. Walt didn’t crack smiles or pepper in pleasantries as we exchanged hollow vows in front of the judge. His disdain for me was so palpable I assumed we’d walk out of that ceremony and resume our regularly scheduled programming. But then fate was like, Hold my beer. I got this.

I shouldn't have remembered him. He was just a guy who walked through a restaurant. I didn't know his name. We never made eye contact. There was no connection between us at all. But I could feel him. The tingle down my spine. The command in his presence. The snap of tension in the air around him. That was the first time I saw him, and I was captivated.

It was supposed to be a harmless kiss at a lavish debutante ball. A clandestine moment with a handsome stranger. But unlike his namesake, my Romeo isn’t driven by love. He’s fueled by revenge. To him, I’m a chess piece. Leverage. His rival’s betrothed. To me, he is a man deserving of poison. A dark prince I refuse to marry. He thinks I’ll accept my fate. Well, I plan to rewrite it. And in my story, Juliet doesn’t die. But Romeo? He perishes.

I've never been in love. I've never had an orgasm, but I've faked plenty. I want to experience love. Real, passionate love. I don't want to die. It's funny what blurts out of your mouth when the plane you're on is going down, and I didn't hold back with my seat mate when my plane decided to crash. My hysterical confessions didn't faze the muscular stranger that sat beside me. In fact, he promised if we survived, he'd give me my first orgasm.

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.

I ran from home to escape heartbreak, only to deliver myself into the hands of a wolf. Henry Wolf, that is. Heir to a luxury hotel chain, infamous playboy, arrogant bastard...and my new boss. Why he wants me, Abbi Mitchell - a girl who lacks experience on every front that would matter to him - as his personal assistant, I cannot fathom, especially when I keep messing up in the most spectacular way. Did I already mention he's a bastard? A beautiful, moody one, who's quick to demand, slow to apologize. And toying with me every chance he gets.

I'll be the first to admit that I live at extremes. After going 10 years locked in what felt like a dysfunctional marriage, I'm now decidedly boy-free. In nearly three years I've had no boyfriends, no flings, no dates, and no sex. For the sake of my dream career, the sacrifice has been easy. At least it was. Until he came along. Lukas Hendricks. He's rude, gorgeous, arrogant - a stone-carved wall of muscle and distraction. He's everything I know to avoid but there's no avoiding your next-door neighbor.

When he invited me to join him for a drink, I thought Alessandro was an ordinary guest at my family's hotel. I didn't know I belonged to him until he told me right there in the restaurant. I thought I had a say in the matter. But when I stood up to leave, it just earned me a sore bottom for the plane ride to New York, where our wedding was already planned for the next day. But I was soaking wet for him before he even walked me down the aisle.

Hi, my name is Bree Camden, and I’m hopelessly in love with my best friend and star quarterback Nathan Donelson (so is half of America, judging by the tabloids and how much the guy dates). The first step is admitting it, right? Except, I can never admit it to him because he clearly doesn’t see me that way, and the last thing I want is for things to get weird between us. Nothing but good old-fashioned no-touching-the-sexiest-man-alive platonic friendship for us! Everything is exactly how I like it! Yes. Good. (I’m not crying; I’m just peeling an onion.)

I found Killian drunk and sprawled out on my lawn like some lost prince. With the face of a god and the arrogance to match, the pest won't leave. Sexy, charming, and just a little bit dirty, he's slowly wearing me down, making me crave more. He could be mine if I dare to claim him. Problem is, the world thinks he's theirs. How do you keep an idol when everyone is intent on taking him away?

It's not a regular party, but instead, my wedding. To Angelo Rizzo. A coldhearted man who's feared by all. Including me. Turns out my stepbrother owes the Cosa Nostra money, and I'm being used to repay his debt to Angelo Rizzo. Do I have a choice? No. Not when it comes to matters concerning the Cosa Nostra. Three hours later, I have a new shiny wedding ring on my finger and a husband I'm terrified of standing by my side. Yep, my life just took a turn for the worse.

Goal: Find a boyfriend, get married, buy a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence, and pop out 2.5 kids. Deadline: Sixty days. That's possible, right? There is no doubt that, this year, home for the holidays takes on a whole new, terrifying meaning. I have to travel from New York City - my home and safe haven for the last 15 years - to my tiny hometown in Vermont for Christmas, my baby sister's wedding, and my high school reunion.

When Liz Dougherty’s first reporting assignment for her North Carolina college newspaper finds her covering a state senator’s impromptu press conference, she has no idea how drastically her life is about to change. Senator Brady Maxwell may look the part with his devastating good looks and impeccable style, but his politics rub Liz the wrong way, and she’s not going to let him off easy. Liz’s hardball question catches Brady off guard and shows her editor, Hayden Lane, that she’s headed places as journalist. But to Liz’s surprise, she’s also headed for a secret, high-stakes romance with Brady Maxwell.

Charming, captivating, seductive—and a cold-blooded killer. I married the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva anyway. I had to, it was part of the deal. Now, I’m faking marital bliss as I tremble with fear, and I cannot wait to be out of the clutches of this ruthless man.

Carter Beckett is the NHL’s resident bad boy, top player both on the ice and in the bedroom, and quite possibly the sexiest man to ever grace my field of vision. But worst of all? He knows it. He’s arrogant, self-centered, and the man doesn’t seem to know what a filter is, let alone how to use one. He’s had everything served to him on a silver platter, including endless strings of women, and apparently, I’m up next. I have the solution to all my sexual frustrations in a drawer at home, and it’s far less complicated than Carter Beckett.

Cutting all ties, Kayla Montgomery drives cross-country to Los Angeles. New start. New life. And an unexpected new job: assistant to Justin Beckett. The Justin Beckett. The boy band rebel with the cocky attitude and dreamy bed head who casts a spell over his fans and tests the patience of his handlers. Now at the peak of Mount Adulthood, he has to build a clean-cut, movie star image. It’s in his contract. No partying. No attitude. No groupies. To tie it together, he needs a normal girl. Suddenly, Kayla’s swept up in Justin’s glamorous world, and his arms.

What the hell do I know about raising a baby? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. Yet here I am, the sole guardian of my niece. I'd be lost if it weren't for Katherine, the beautiful girl who seems to have all the answers. Katherine, who's slowly finding her way into my cynical heart. I keep reminding myself that I can't fall for someone when we don't have a future. But telling myself this lie and believing it are two different things.

Nobody touches what's mine without deadly consequences, but when the most beautiful woman is brought to face my fury, my dead heart suddenly begins to beat again. There are no fairy tales in this life. Beauty will never fall for the beast. But this monster doesn't intend to let her go. Everybody has a price. It's just a question of currency. My sweet little hacker can't be swayed by money, but she will do whatever it takes to save her family.

I shouldn't have agreed to this. What was I thinking? Appearing on a local news show? Just because something happened to me? But here I am. And then I walked past his room. He's a giant—no softness, all muscle. And a rich beard that made me want to rub myself all over it. He made me see stars, literally, because the second time I saw him, I tripped. Or I would've, but he caught me, and the cameras were rolling. Soon, that clip will be trending because he wasn't just another guest on the show. He's Brett Broudou, the Kings' newest football star.

It should have been easy. I needed the money. He needed a babysitter to keep him from snorting himself to death. I was cherry-picked especially for him. Responsible. Optimistic. Warm. Innocent. The worst part is that I should have known better. Alex Winslow. British rock star. Serial heartbreaker. Casanova with whiskey eyes. “Don’t get near the devil in a leather jacket. He’ll chew you up and spit you out.” Guess what? I didn’t listen. I signed the contract. World tour. Three months. Four Continents. 100 shows. My name is Indigo Bellamy, and I sold my soul to a tattooed god.

I asked for his criteria for bed buddies - that's the PG version. He swore at me and said he didn’t do groupies. And just like that, our friendship was off to a great start. Reese Forster was the starting point guard for the Seattle Thunder. Gorgeous. Cocky. Loved by the nation. He’s also attending preseason basketball training camp where I used to work.

Jason Thorn...my brother's childhood friend. Oh, how stupidly in love with that boy I was. He was the first boy who made me blush, my first official crush. Sounds beautiful so far, right? That excitement that bubbles up inside you, those famous butterflies you feel for the very first time - he was the reason for them all. But you get to live in that fairy tale world only until they crush your hopes and dreams and then stomp on your heart for good measure. And boy did he crush my little heart into pieces.