Meet Randi Burnett—she’s brilliant, she’s beautiful, and she works for the bride. Missing groom? Intoxicated in-laws? Crying ring-bearer? You name it, she wrangles it. Too bad her personal life isn’t thriving like her side gig as a bridesmaid for hire. Recently dumped, Randi throws herself into her biggest challenge yet when she’s hired as a maid of honor and pretend best friend for an ice queen bride. There’s just one problem—the best man is infuriating, overprotective, and anti-marriage.

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.

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.

Beckett: If you’re reading this, well, you know the last-letter drill. You made it. I didn’t. Get off the guilt train, because I know if there was any chance you could have saved me, you would have. I need one thing from you: get out of the army and get to Telluride. My little sister Ella’s raising the twins alone. She’s too independent and won’t accept help easily, but she has lost our grandmother, our parents, and now me. It’s too much for anyone to endure. And here’s the kicker: there’s something else you don’t know that’s tearing her family apart.

I'm addicted to my stalker. He watches me at night, sneaking in through my living room window and making my blood turn to ice. I feel him all around me as chills snake down my spine. Each night he becomes bolder, getting closer and welcoming himself into my bedroom, feeding his addiction.

Unhinged. Obsessive. Possessive. Stalker. The words others would probably use to describe me. But I’m not. I’m not unhinged. I’m not crazy. Obsessive? Possessive? Very much so. But what’s love if not a burning obsession for another? I’m absolutely obsessed with her and even though she doesn’t know it yet, we’re meant to be. And after this she’ll be mine and everything that’s wrong will be right.

Marrying her was my duty. Falling for her was my undoing. It was my idea to kidnap the daughter of my father’s rival. In my defense, I never expected that marrying her would be a part of the plan.

They warned me that the very sight of me would incite a side of Maverick I would want to flee in fear of. But I had no place else to go. My only option was to brave his wrath to survive. His darkness reaches into me, pulling at something raw, something I don’t understand. With every word he slays me, his every touch burns along my skin. He breaks down my walls, igniting my fiery temper all the while laying bare desires I was never meant to feel, much less act on. Beneath the fire and fury, I glimpse the cracks in his armor and the man he’s desperately trying to hide.

It was supposed to be a one-night stand with a sinfully gorgeous stranger. A man I’d never see again. I was stranded, he had a hotel room (which I had broken into), and the rest is history. Until he shows up at my doorstep five years later with a marriage proposal.

You might say my obsession has become a compulsion in the way I need to know everything about Scarlet Laurent. Even though I've taken a step into the background, I could never look away from my Little Sparrow. She's a sliver buried under my skin, a constant reminder of her presence with no way to dig it out. Staying away from her for the last ten years has been a brutal form of torture. Her time's run out, and when the clock ticks midnight on her twenty-fifth birthday, I'll tie her to me forever.