I just told off my billionaire CEO in front of the entire company, and it was totally worth it. Do I care that a viral video of our exchange sent his stocks into freefall? Nope. Am I going to help Rand Wolfe rehab his company’s reputation? Not a chance in hell. There’s just one problem: I’m the bastard son of a mafia don, a fact Wolfe finds out the hard way when he tracks me down at the docks. Saving his life puts a mafia-style extradition order on my head, and the only place to hide is his high-rise penthouse.

Sam reminds me of the horses we rescue. Scarred, skittish, and…strong. Beautiful. He’s a bit of a hat-stealer, and, truth be told, I’m a little leery of his chosen profession. The things he does in front of a camera...well, it makes me blush just thinkin' about it. But if that scar on his face is any indication, he could use somebody at his back. I aim to be that person. And yeah, some of my parts get confused by the fact that he’s all delicate and sparkly, but that’s not important. Even if the good hand lotion has somehow made it into the tack room.

All people see when they look at me is a beautiful man, a supermodel, half of the world’s most famous twins. No one sees the man underneath. When I return to Forestville, the small town I grew up in, for my high school reunion, I impulsively decide to stay.

I’m not anti-relationship, but my life is good right now, and love is not a priority. Too bad my grandmother disagrees. People say she’s scary, and sure, some of her enemies went missing under mysterious circumstances, but she loves me and wants the best for me…which right now, is marriage.

Everett: There are a ton of reasons why falling for my tiny, adorkable best friend is a terrible idea - starting with the body in my trunk. I have other reasons - he still mourns his late husband. I’m way older, he’s a foot shorter, my tattoo shop is a front, he’s an assistant professor at UT. Still, I can’t help but think we’d be perfect for each other if I didn’t kill people (very, very bad people) for a living.

When it comes to hockey, I'm all about the game. I've worked for years to be one of the best in the league, and l've done it without splashing my orientation all over the tabloids. My hockey image is one I've carefully cultivated, and after one night with Ezra Palaszczuk, I risk it all. He's cocky, obnoxious, and has an ego bigger than Massachusetts. And okay, maybe he's the sexiest man I've ever known. We'll never get along. Not when we sleep together. Not even when my possessive streak awakens. That doesn't stop us from falling into bed together over and over again.

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.

Danny Kingman is used to fending for himself. Working nonstop as an ER nurse to pay for his mother’s care, he’s been putting his own life on hold for as long as he can remember. But when an unbelievably hot, strangely intense man saves him from a mugging, Danny has a feeling everything is about to change. Especially when that man suddenly pops out a pair of fangs.

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.

I hired Ben under false pretenses. He may think I don’t know who he truly is, but I do. Even so, I'm tempted to trust him. His family may be full of con artists, but Ben is too innocent for his own good. Trustworthy or not, I'm going to keep him in my sights.

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 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.

10 years after leaving his small Minnesota hometown in his rear view mirror for what Nolan Grainger was sure would be the last time, life has decided to throw the talented musician a curveball and send him back to the town he lived in but was never really home. When he’s forced to use the last of his own money to keep from losing the family home, desperation has him turning to the one man he’d hoped never to see again....

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.

The furniture district is my personal hell. I don’t know my ass from an ottoman. But when a hot designer comes to my rescue, I realize my problems are bigger than the house I’m trying to furnish.

Everett: There are a ton of reasons why falling for my tiny, adorkable best friend is a terrible idea - starting with the body in my trunk. I have other reasons - he still mourns his late husband. I’m way older, he’s a foot shorter, my tattoo shop is a front, he’s an assistant professor at UT. Still, I can’t help but think we’d be perfect for each other if I didn’t kill people (very, very bad people) for a living.

Sam reminds me of the horses we rescue. Scarred, skittish, and…strong. Beautiful. He’s a bit of a hat-stealer, and, truth be told, I’m a little leery of his chosen profession. The things he does in front of a camera...well, it makes me blush just thinkin' about it. But if that scar on his face is any indication, he could use somebody at his back. I aim to be that person. And yeah, some of my parts get confused by the fact that he’s all delicate and sparkly, but that’s not important. Even if the good hand lotion has somehow made it into the tack room.

The night we met in the dimly lit bar, she looked like a brunette bombshell, and I wanted to learn her deepest secrets. With sun-kissed skin and soulful bedroom eyes, she was pure temptation, and I was mesmerized. As one drink led to two, I craved more of her playful banter and taunting lips. Resisting her wasn't an option, and we quickly became a desperate mess of tangled limbs and hot kisses. She tasted like the sweetest sin, but I was no saint.

College parties, beer, and one-night stands - that was my life. Now, I hunt down criminals, ethically or not, but if no one's asking, then I'm not telling. Drinking and women are still included, although I can't seem to forget the girl who almost gave me her virginity. She would've until I realized she was too young, and I wasn't looking to get thrown into jail.

Michael Kage Santori has just inherited a thriving hotel and millions of dollars. He’s poised to become an MMA champion. Things couldn’t be better between him and his college boy lover, Jamie Atwood - especially in the bedroom, where Jamie is more than eager to let Kage take out his aggressions on him. Kage seems to have it all, but success and happiness have come at a steep price. After all of the childhood trauma he endured at the hands of his controlling uncle, Peter Santori, it’s a miracle Kage has any shred of sanity left. And now, because of him, Jamie is a murderer.

As an ex-Navy SEAL there are a few guarantees in life. Avoiding relationships is one of them. Dealing with PTSD is another. So when I come across the Reckless Bastards MC, it’s perfect for a man like me. Last thing I expect is to encounter Jana Carter at a painting class. Don’t ask why I was there. I can hardly keep my eyes off of her. She’s a shy, sultry vixen, and she grabs ahold of me so hard, I can’t let go.

They say everyone has either an addiction, obsession, or weakness in this world. Something that can penetrate you down to the core and influence you in a way nothing else can. I have all three. One happens to be her. Kit Bishop is in my veins. But unfortunately for me, she's the drug I'll never be able to indulge in and the high I can't chase. Because I'm a liar. A thief. And I've destroyed everything that's ever been mine.

We come from two different worlds. I’m from the streets. She might as well live in an ivory tower. I made my living with my fists. I doubt she could even throw a punch. Our paths never should have crossed. We never should have met. That doesn’t change the facts. I would sell my soul to taste those red lips. Fight the devil himself to hear her laugh. Burn in hell to have a single night. Scarlett Priest shouldn’t even know men like me exist, but sometimes temptation is stronger than will. If this is how I go down, it’ll be worth every second of the fall.

I fired off a storm of raunchy text messages...to the wrong number. And he replied. Him: Show me a picture. Him: Tell me your name. Why does the lure of anonymity have me craving to indulge a stranger?

Taylor Shaw had the perfect life - until she was 16. That was when everything changed. From that moment on, life went from bad to worse...to the worst. After recovering from a brain tumor, months later, she suffers the tragic loss of her whole family. Since that fateful day, she's been coasting through life. Now the brain tumor has returned, and Taylor decides she's had enough. She's going to take her fate into her own hands. No more hospitals. No more surgeries. No more anything.

Smart-mouthed hacker Caspian escaped an abusive home at 16. Now he's one of the most sought-after black-hat hackers in the world. Jonah is a ruthless contract killer with only one weakness: the vibrant runaway he took in years ago, Caspian. But Cas bailed when he turned 18, and Jonah has maintained a steady diet of eat, kill, sleep since then. A threat to Cas' life brings him back years later - not as the boy Jonah remembers, but as a hardened computer hacker with a price on his head and a list of names everybody wants.

Sunshine. It's a nickname I haven't heard since I lived on Woodbury Lane, where the houses were pretty, but the secrets? Deadly. It was a pet name known only to the Bullets. Rough, violent, and ruthless, they laid claim to the town - and my heart. I wasn't supposed to fall for a boy from the wrong side of the tracks‚ especially not four of them. But they were the only ones who understood that sometimes hell hides in plain sight.

Breaking news: The bad boy of baseball, Maddox Paige, is totally and utterly whipped. Okay, that might not be the headline in the newspaper this morning, but it's the reality of my current situation. It all started a month ago when I received a call from my best friend, Kinsley. She’d gotten a new job in Chicago and needed a place to stay. I've known the girl since I was five, so I figured there wouldn't be any harm in having her stay at my place for a while. Ha! Total disaster.

PI Jackson Rivers grew up on the mean streets of Del Paso Heights and he doesn't trust cops, even though he was one. When the man he thinks of as his brother is accused of killing a police officer in an obviously doctored crime, Jackson will move heaven and earth to keep Kaden and his family safe.

Jesse Lee is the worst! He’s a multi-millionaire, triple-platinum-selling, Grammy-Award-winning man-slut - a worldly, self-indulgent heathen. I wouldn’t sleep with him if he were our last chance to ensure survival of the human race. The only reason I put up with him is because he’s my boss’s brother. Playing by Heart is an enemies-to-lovers romance where opposites not only attract, they ignite.

Hating Justin Jennings should be a lot easier than this. He nearly ruined my life, and I swore when I left town that I’d become the opposite of him in every possible way. I’ve kept that promise, traveling the world to save the people who cannot save themselves. The lost, the trafficked, the stolen. This work is my life’s mission, and now my father has given me the land to expand my operations.

I just told off my billionaire CEO in front of the entire company, and it was totally worth it. Do I care that a viral video of our exchange sent his stocks into freefall? Nope. Am I going to help Rand Wolfe rehab his company’s reputation? Not a chance in hell. There’s just one problem: I’m the bastard son of a mafia don, a fact Wolfe finds out the hard way when he tracks me down at the docks. Saving his life puts a mafia-style extradition order on my head, and the only place to hide is his high-rise penthouse.

I'm a gay preacher with more tattoos than sense and more notches on my bedpost than years in the ministry. You've heard of those romances where the priest is seduced by the worldly outsider? Yeah, this isn't that. I'm also not totally settled on the existence of God. Call me a skeptic, but when you work with abandoned and abused teenagers, you tend to have a few questions for anyone calling themselves divine.

Caelan James should've known better than to let a dating app set him up on a blind date. Nothing in life was guaranteed-perfect, especially not guys, and most definitely not guys in the immediate vicinity of tiny O'Leary, New York. But then, sexy Navy SEAL Ash Martin walked into Cal's bakery, and made him wonder if fate might have cooked up something sweet for him after all.

Sam reminds me of the horses we rescue. Scarred, skittish, and…strong. Beautiful. He’s a bit of a hat-stealer, and, truth be told, I’m a little leery of his chosen profession. The things he does in front of a camera...well, it makes me blush just thinkin' about it. But if that scar on his face is any indication, he could use somebody at his back. I aim to be that person. And yeah, some of my parts get confused by the fact that he’s all delicate and sparkly, but that’s not important. Even if the good hand lotion has somehow made it into the tack room.