It was supposed to be another typical day at the office. Stevie Charles knew the famous rock band, Split Decision, would be staying at the hotel where she worked. But she had no idea that she was in danger of being swept off of her feet by one of the band members. Stevie didn't believe in fairy tales. She wasn't jaded, she was simply indifferent. She was too focused on her business to waste time daydreaming about all the A-list celebrities that came into the hotel on a regular basis.

I always wanted to live at the beach. It had been my dream since I was a little girl. I longed to experience the sand and sea. My heart's desire was to become a famous artist who painted scenes with palm trees and blue waters. Finally, I was moving to a coastal town. It was only three hours from where I grew up, but it might as well have been paradise with how excited I was. My sister was coming with me, except she didn't care about painting palm trees and beach scenes. She was only in it for the shirtless guys.

It was a surreal evening when I finally got to see Micah Lacey live in concert. He played a sold-out show, and I had front row tickets. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. Micah said some things to the audience near the end of the performance—some personal things about his own life. I wasn't normally the type of person to follow clues, but Micah's songs and his life before stardom seemed interesting.

Bailey had gone home to Memphis for a few days and decided to meet up with five of her closest friends while she was there. She expected a few laughs and some light-hearted conversation, and had no idea they had a proposition for her. They desperately needed her to come back home for the summer. This would be no regularly scheduled trip and would take a lot of effort on Bailey’s part. But, she was determined to make it happen. Especially since one of the people asking her to come home happened to be tall, dark, and handsome.

I knew the Blair brothers. It was impossible to grow up in Astoria and not be familiar with them. There were four boys in the Blair family, and all of them had that certain something. They were smart, athletic, funny, and gorgeous. If I was forced to pick my favorite, it would have to be Henry. He was the wild one of the bunch - a rock star.

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.

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.

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.