Hockey is in my blood. I learned to skate before I learned how to ride a bike. I’ve been on a wild ride, playing at the highest level for some of the biggest and best teams in the league. But now it’s over, and I’m not sure what to do with myself. So I'm going home to Elmwood. But I’ll tell you what I’m not gonna do—I’m not going to coach my buddy’s junior hockey league. No chance. I don’t know how to deal with kids, and besides, the other coach—who happens to be my best friend’s brother—hates me. With reason.

We haven't spoken in 15 years, and Marlon is the last person I expected to run into in a bar on Bourbon Street. He's not my gangly internet pen pal anymore; he's all muscles, body hair, and temptation. Our friendship feels like it never faded, but the heat between us is brand-new. We're both in different cities every few weeks, hustling to build our careers and soaking up all the perks of being young, hot, and untethered. But our paths seem to be crossing more and more often.

I thought I had one chance to kiss him, and I blew it. We were 16, and I was an idiot. But now, here he is, standing right in front of me, looking at me with that same expression of awe and adoration that I never lost my addiction to.

When half your face is covered in a big, blotchy birthmark, you get used to the staring and the whispers. You get used to feeling unwanted. Until he walks into my bar.... Tall, gorgeous, and all kinds of out of place. And the way he looks at me ain’t like no way I've ever seen before.

Between running a garage full of beefed-up gear-head mechanics and bailing my idiot brother out of trouble every other week, the last thing I have time for is a relationship. I’ve tried it too many times, and the ridiculous reasons I always find to end it have become a running joke around the garage. But I’ve learned my lesson. No. More. Boyfriends. I don’t care how many times Porter falls asleep drunk in my bed or how cute he looks covered in oil smears while I teach him how to fix up the vintage car he has rusting away in his garage; I’m not going to fall for him.

The Dean of Admissions at the girls’ dream school says only families with two parents need apply, and in desperation, Grant makes me a different offer: to be his on-paper husband. With things heating up between us and my heart hanging in the balance, how can I convince Grant to make me the proposal I really want: to turn this marriage of convenience into a real-life happily-ever-after?

I’m in control of my life. That has become Burke’s mantra. He lost control somewhere along the way, descending into a downward spiral until he hit rock bottom. Now he’s back, sober, and determined to never be in that position again. Ever. That’s why he loves being a dominant. He’s in charge. He can plan everything into detail. He’s in control. Until he runs into Wander, a private security guy who volunteers to become Burke’s mentor in the club.

Simon just wants to run his antique shop in peace. But then he finds a small mysterious box that’s (probably) haunted, and his shop is broken into by the hottest man he’s ever seen who then steals said creepy box. Now demons are after him and his only hope is to trust the tall, muscled, combat-boot-wearing thief who claims to be the son of a fallen angel.

A long time ago, in a suburban high school not so far away, a closeted nerd (me) and a closeted soccer star (Hutch) fell in love and planned to make their public debut at prom. Until Hutch bailed at the last minute, leaving me with a broken heart and unworn tuxedo. Tale as old as time, right? I spent the past ten years working to forget Hutch, returning to our old high school to teach and make new memories that could erase ones of him. I thought Hutch was ancient history, off living his professional athlete life.

As a founding member of The Vers, a queer podcast I host with my three best friends, I’m "The Loner"—quieter than the others, and except for them, I don’t let myself get too close to people. Most of them just let you down anyway, or maybe it’s just that something about me chases people away.

When the light-magic users known as Casters took everything from me, I vowed to make them pay. Little did I know the perfect opportunity would show up in the form of a sweet Caster the moment I took his arrow to the heart…literally. Bastian knows that I’m made of dark magic, the very thing he’s been taught to destroy. But instead of turning away from me, he takes a chance on me, leading me behind the walls of the group out to kill me.

I'm a list person. Lists make sense, they give a chaotic, unpredictable world order. Realizing I was gay at 30 definitely wasn't on my list. I guess I need a new list….

The job at Sunday Orchard was supposed to be temporary. A chance to gain some work experience, to have some fun. I had not expected to be welcomed into a family of gorgeous and weirdly efficient lumberjack-types, or to find purpose in the tiny Vermont town whose claim to fame seemed to be apple-based products and copious amounts of charm. And I most definitely hadn’t expected to fall for Knox Sunday, my grumpy, burly, fifteen-years-older, reluctant roommate, with his infuriating lectures, his hot-as-fire body, his superior attitude - I’ve never been one to put down roots.

Conor: It starts with a drunken text pic. The kind I would normally never send. Only, instead of it going to the flirty hotel bartender, it goes to some random stranger who actually responds. Wells: The first thing I notice about Conor Newell when he sits down in my high-rise conference room is how delightfully nervous he is. Then I see his tie. The same geeky tie that’s held hostage on my phone. The one that belongs to my anonymous late-night texter. And it changes everything.

All my life, I’ve dreamed of one thing: the perfect movie moment. I want a man and his boombox outside my window; I want kissing in the rain; I want a romantic hero who will take my breath away. Switching mail with my cute neighbor didn’t work. Swapping coffee with a hottie at the coffee shop just got the poor barista yelled at. And bus guy? Total bust. I’m starting to wonder if Hollywood got the whole meet-cute thing wrong. Sacrilege, I know. Is it possible the perfect leading man has been living in the apartment above me the entire time, playing the role of my best friend?

Tiernan de Haas doesn’t care about anything anymore. The only child of a film producer and his starlet wife, she’s grown up with wealth and privilege but not love or guidance. And when they suddenly pass away, she knows she should be devastated. But has anything really changed? She’s always been alone, hasn’t she? Jake Van der Berg, her father’s stepbrother and her only living relative, assumes guardianship of Tiernan who is still two months shy of 18. She's sent to live with him and his two sons, Noah and Kaleb, in the mountains of Colorado.

There are many rules a priest can't break. A priest cannot marry. A priest cannot abandon his flock. A priest cannot forsake his God. I've always been good at following rules. Until she came. Then I learned new rules.

Rollo Tomassi is one of the leading voices in the globally growing, male-focused online consortium known as the "Manosphere". Outlined are the concepts of positive masculinity, the feminine imperative, plate theory, operative social conventions, and the core psychological theory behind game awareness and "red pill" ideology. Tomassi explains and outlines the principles of intergender social dynamics and foundational reasoning behind them.

The Man's Guide to Women offers the science-based answers to the question: What do women really want in men? The book explains the hallmarks of manhood that most women find attractive and helps men hone those skills to be the men women desire.

Nancy Friday's taboo-shattering best seller My Secret Garden is the most popular and controversial book of women's sexual fantasies ever published. Women who feared their erotic fantasies called it scandalous. Women who recognized their own fantasies in its pages, rejoiced. Outspoken, graphic, vulnerable and shameless, My Secret Garden is a classic study of female sexuality. Friday interviewed hundreds of women from every part of the country to learn their sexual private thoughts, and she listened like no one else.

Lewis. Clingy, needy, Too Much. Just a few choice words from men who never deserved me anyway. I'm not going to make the same mistakes again though. I plan to ride the motorcycle hottie of my dreams just until we both get bored. Besides, who has time for anything but a quick fling when the jerks at the tattoo shop next door insist on doing everything they can to annoy the hell out of me with some stupid prank war?

When half your face is covered in a big, blotchy birthmark, you get used to the staring and the whispers. You get used to feeling unwanted. Until he walks into my bar.... Tall, gorgeous, and all kinds of out of place. And the way he looks at me ain’t like no way I've ever seen before.

Lake Forrester III entered my life like a wrecking ball. Drake Security, my firm with my brothers, was hired to protect him from a stalker ex, but what Lake doesn’t know is that he’s not dealing with your average unhinged human. The unhinged wolf shifter he unknowingly dated will stop at nothing to get Lake in his clutches. Just another day in the life of a dragon body guard.

I'm a list person. Lists make sense, they give a chaotic, unpredictable world order. Realizing I was gay at 30 definitely wasn't on my list. I guess I need a new list….

Is there such thing as love at first bar fight? I may be small and pretty, but what I lack in intimidation factor, I make up for in violence. I made a vow five years ago that the motorcycle club responsible for my brother’s death would pay the price, and I’m finally ready to collect. May God have mercy on the men who hurt my brother, because I don’t plan to.

Between running a garage full of beefed-up gear-head mechanics and bailing my idiot brother out of trouble every other week, the last thing I have time for is a relationship. I’ve tried it too many times, and the ridiculous reasons I always find to end it have become a running joke around the garage. But I’ve learned my lesson. No. More. Boyfriends. I don’t care how many times Porter falls asleep drunk in my bed or how cute he looks covered in oil smears while I teach him how to fix up the vintage car he has rusting away in his garage; I’m not going to fall for him.

Accepting my career in the Army is over after losing my leg is hard. But the obnoxious, good looking, glass-half-full surfer in my physical therapy sessions is worse. And god help him if he doesn’t stop trying to give me advice. Living in a home with three of my closest veteran buddies is a challenge as we all have our crosses to bear and wounds to heal from, but mine only seem to be getting deeper with every step forward I take. I already have to adjust to a new life as a civilian. I don’t need a sexuality crisis to go with it.

Big City is supposedly the place where dreams come true. As someone just trying to live my life, I can tell you it’s more like a recurring nightmare where dreams get c*ckblocked at every turn. Especially if you’re a supervillain like me. The irony is that I have zero powers, despite coming from purebred villain stock, but try telling that to Big City’s beloved hero, Captain Masculine.

My mind and body are full of chaos; the only time I can truly feel free is when my hands, arms, and legs are secured. Just because I want to be bound, able to give over my pleasure entirely to another person, doesn't mean I want to be controlled, humiliated, or made to endure pain. I'm a successful, happy, confident adult man who wants a lover to tie him up. Why is that so scandalous? And why is it so difficult to find? It doesn't help that I've developed a hopeless crush on my straight roommate. Maybe a fulfilling relationship isn't in the cards for me.

Evan just wants a quiet life where he escapes into books, drinks a ridiculous amount of coffee, and devours every muffin in sight. But then he's transported to another world with magic, sword-wielding knights with big... hearts, and men who find him too adorable to resist.

This is Alabaster Penitentiary…where they send you when the world thinks you’re dead. And trust me, you’ll wish you were. We’re the stain on society. The freaks, the creeps, your favorite Netflix documentaries come to life. They lock us up and throw away the key, because we deserve it. But not me. I’m just a lowly bank robber. I don’t belong here, surrounded by psychopaths and killers with no remorse…At least, I don’t think I do.

I have only one goal in life: become a detective. It’s there, just out of reach, so close I can taste it. When I find out the Vitale family is about to be investigated again, I do what I do best. Jump in head first. There’s just one problem; Enzo Vitale. The man is red hot danger, every word a dare from his lips. And I never was one to turn away from a challenge….

Ethan is a young artist-entrepreneur with a love for quirky taxidermy. Roadkill is so much better than people. By the end of high school, all he wants is to develop his business, yet all his parents want is for him to go to law school. That is more than enough of a problem for Ethan, so any kind of love life is out of the question. That is until Robert Hunter, the quarterback of the football team, comes crashing into him. Literally.

Rowe Prince is many things. But when it turns out Rowe’s lies conceal a secret that threatens the company I’ve spent years building, I have to choose: say goodbye to the sweet pretender I’m falling for, or risk everything for a man who just might be… the prince of lies.

There's no one worse for me to want in my bed than Jake Tully. He's hot and grumpy and literally a terrible idea. Terrible. Worse, no one has ever made me feel the way he does—valued. But here I am, thinking about him again. Falling for my sponsor is not my worst idea yet, but it's damn close.