As the former mayor of Smoky Vale, I hinged my campaign on getting rid of all bikers. They are everything that's wrong with our town. Everywhere they go they breed crudeness, chaos, and carnage. Then my son fell in love with not one, but two of them. Now I have no choice but to interact with the very people I tried to take down. My disapproval of their lifestyle wavers when a spawn of Goliath backs me into a wall, kisses me senselessly, and makes it clear in the most vulgar way possible what he wants to do to me.

Being traded to the Seattle Vipers has left me with mixed feelings. On the one hand, they’re my team, the team I’ve loved and supported since I was a kid, but on the other hand, he’s here. Him. Ant Decker. Infamous NHL bad boy. Right wing to my left. A man who’s made it his sole purpose in life to be better than me.

Adam Mulvaney lives a double life. By day, he’s the spoiled youngest son of an eccentric billionaire. By night, he’s an unrepentant killer, one of seven psychopaths raised to right the wrongs of a justice system that keeps failing. Noah Holt has spent years dreaming of vengeance for the death of his father, but when faced with his killer, he learns a daunting truth he can’t escape. His father was a monster.

Of all the people who could have seen me when I was at my most vulnerable, it had to be him. Caleb. My stepbrother and the golden child of our messed up blended family. We barely know each other, but for some reason, he takes care of me when an incident at the club leaves me helpless and alone. He hates me as much as I hate him, but something about his bossy attitude and unflappable calm soothes me. I don't want to want him, but no one has ever made me feel the way he does.

Sascha has always felt powerless, the weak baby of a cruel family. But that’s fine. He has his looks, his ample allowance, and a smattering of one-night stands to keep him busy. But when Sascha’s oldest brother offends the wrong people, Sascha finds himself in hiding with a target on his back. And when poking around in his temporary home leads to accidentally summoning the hottest demon Sascha could ever imagine, he has to ask himself: does he want to feel powerless anymore?

He makes me lose all control. Ex-Special Forces and current CEO of Sinro Enterprises, I sacrifice my personal life and health to lead mercenary teams dedicated to wiping out high-profile criminals. My working hours are endless. My schedule is rigid. I leave no room for normal things like relationships. Until a pretty little thief breaks into my high-rise and shatters what I'd come to believe was peace. I find myself hesitating to pull the trigger for the first time.

Being a hitman is the loneliest of jobs. We don't have many friends. Some don't even have family. Lovers? Try explaining to your boyfriend why there's blood on your shirt. Christmas is the worst time to be alone. This year, love is in the cards for me, all thanks to a letter I found in the street. It reads, "Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is revenge…"

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.

Is it wrong that I watch him? Leif Anderson seems like a friendly, kind, normal, boy-next-door type. Unlike me. His stalker, a creep who moved into the place next to his parents’ house to keep an eye on him. I’m not the bad guy, though. I’m the one who will protect him. The cops don’t believe he’s in danger. Maybe they’re right, and this is all in my messed-up head. I’ve been wrong before. And no matter how I justify this to myself, my motives aren’t entirely pure.

His own marriage was a whirlwind affair that ended before the ink could dry on the wedding certificate. Nevertheless, even with his divorce pending, he’s getting by. Or at least he was until he finds himself snowed in at a remote Scottish hotel with the wedding party from hell, a terrible ABBA tribute band, and his soon-to-be ex-husband.

I was drowning in debt and my sister needed help, so I made a terrible choice. I borrowed money from the infamous Marchesi family, knowing I had no way to pay them back. Did I think I could evade them? Did I think I’d win the lottery? No, I didn’t think at all. I just acted. Now, a killer is at my door, a man known for his ruthlessness, his persistence, and the way he can bring a man to his knees–for business or pleasure. I’ve got to find a way to pay him back, and the only thing I own free and clear is my body.

I’m never one to turn down a bet. Especially not when it comes to retaliating against the dean for pulling a dick move before summer break. So when the dean’s golden child arrives at Astor for his freshman year, my fellow troublemakers throw down a wager I can’t resist. The target: the dean’s son, John Thomas Hawthorne, or “JT”. The bet: corruption in any way I choose. It should’ve been easy. With his mess of brown curls, pouty lips, and good-boy reputation, JT is the perfect revenge. And even better? He’s straight.

Our world is slowly healing after surviving a horrific war. The magical and nonmagical creatures of Brinnswick have pulled together to mend the world, but the man I think - really, I know - is my viramore, my soulmate, has somehow been left behind. I felt drawn to him as soon as I met him, and I wanted to explore what we were to each other, but I never got the chance.

Maybe I have an overactive imagination, but the hot guy next door totally gives off serial killer vibes. Why else would he know how long it takes to bleed out from a wound? Yeah, ok, so I asked, but it was research. Being an author definitely makes for some odd questions (someone had better clear my browser history when I die, that's all I'm saying). It's not like I'm stalking my hot neighbor or anything—there's nothing wrong with watching him out my window. Although I might have my own stalker (and not the cute harmless kind), which is kind of terrifying.

I’m the first one to tell you I have issues. Trust issues. Family issues. Probably a few others I haven’t discovered yet. Which is why I prefer to keep my life as simple and uncomplicated as possible. Until him. Blake McAdams barrels into my life and refuses to leave. He’s relentlessly optimistic, sexy as hell, annoyingly persistent, and…wants to be friends? Because…he thinks I’m interesting? Yeah, I’ll pass. Thanks. Only, somehow, we end up doing just that.

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.

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.

Fifteen years to life is a long time to be sentenced to prison, even if I do deserve it. As the Enforcer of my MC, I had to do some things that would give most people nightmares. I'm prepared to do my time, waiting for my lawyer to appeal my sentence. But when an opportunity presents itself to escape, I take it. I'm on my way back to my clubhouse in Tennessee when I get stuck in a small Missouri town. I have to kidnap the small-town mechanic to aid in my escape, ignoring the unfamiliar cravings I feel towards him.

Trapped in nightmares from my past, the only comfort I find is in gifts from the man who killed my mother's killer—presents wrapped in a body bag and delivered to the morgue for me to examine. From the first time I saw his mark, I knew I had to keep my killer safe, had to keep his work a secret for me and me alone. Every body is a love letter, and I'm the only one who can read them.

It's official: my step bro is the biggest himbo ever to himbo. He's a massive blond beefcake with a soft heart and an over-eager smile. The mere sight of him incites a shaking hot rage in me. He's everywhere. He's around me all the time. So sweet and gentle that it makes me feel wild. I see him and smell him everywhere. When I can't see him or smell him, I hear him. The wall between our bedrooms is paper thin. I can't help it—I hear what he does in his room when he thinks he's alone. I hear everything.

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.

The last thing I want is another relationship or another broken heart. All I need are my bees and the occasional hookup to scratch the itch. Okay, maybe meeting up with my hot contractor weekly is a little more than occasional. And maybe the way I’m starting to feel about the guy I’ve been anonymously chatting with online should concern me. But CaulkyAF doesn’t want to meet, and Cole doesn’t want anything serious, so what’s the worst that could happen?

He makes me lose all control. Ex-Special Forces and current CEO of Sinro Enterprises, I sacrifice my personal life and health to lead mercenary teams dedicated to wiping out high-profile criminals. My working hours are endless. My schedule is rigid. I leave no room for normal things like relationships. Until a pretty little thief breaks into my high-rise and shatters what I'd come to believe was peace. I find myself hesitating to pull the trigger for the first time.

After years of drowning myself in parties, hookups, and pain, all it takes is one viral sex tape to be given a choice: Hide out on an island or lose my trust fund. Having to share a room with the one man I let hurt me is my worst nightmare. I’m the broken shell of the boy he walked away from on the worst day of my life. I hate him almost as much as I hate myself.

Being a hitman is the loneliest of jobs. We don't have many friends. Some don't even have family. Lovers? Try explaining to your boyfriend why there's blood on your shirt. Christmas is the worst time to be alone. This year, love is in the cards for me, all thanks to a letter I found in the street. It reads, "Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is revenge…"

Just the sight of Nico ‘Stix’ Jamieson makes me want to hurt something. Between his stupid smiles on that annoyingly handsome face and the constant drumming of anything that makes a sound with those drumsticks of his, I want to throttle him. No one is that happy. I don’t trust it. Even when my hate for him is clear, he throws it back in my face with a smile and wave. And how he loves to push my buttons when he’s feeling especially obnoxious. If I hate him, then why am I obsessed with him?

The weight of the legacy I carry is a constant tug in my mind, with the ghosts of the generations before me always whispering for me to push harder, train longer, be better. In the eight seconds I have to ride, everything else falls away, and my sole focus is on doing what I do best. I am Shooter Graham, consecutive three-time world champion bronc rider. No one has ever come close to taking the title since I've had it… until him. Sterling Addams. The new cowboy in town with dark hair, eyes like honey, and a taste for me he likes to pretend he doesn't have.

Of all the people who could have seen me when I was at my most vulnerable, it had to be him. Caleb. My stepbrother and the golden child of our messed up blended family. We barely know each other, but for some reason, he takes care of me when an incident at the club leaves me helpless and alone. He hates me as much as I hate him, but something about his bossy attitude and unflappable calm soothes me. I don't want to want him, but no one has ever made me feel the way he does.

Fifteen years ago, I helped put my abductor behind bars. With the help of my hypnotherapist, I’ve sealed away the memories of my traumatic past. Until the dreaded phone call. Duncan Whittaker’s out on parole. The first time I confront him, I intend to kill him. Then something snaps inside me. The memories I’ve been repressing have returned. Duncan Whittaker’s the only man who’s ever made me feel desire. He’s also the one who held me captive for almost a year.

I’m never one to turn down a bet. Especially not when it comes to retaliating against the dean for pulling a dick move before summer break. So when the dean’s golden child arrives at Astor for his freshman year, my fellow troublemakers throw down a wager I can’t resist. The target: the dean’s son, John Thomas Hawthorne, or “JT”. The bet: corruption in any way I choose. It should’ve been easy. With his mess of brown curls, pouty lips, and good-boy reputation, JT is the perfect revenge. And even better? He’s straight.

I’ve never wanted a relationship—especially not with a human. With my father demanding my return to Hell and a demon leaving dead bodies in my bookshop, now is not the time to lose my heart. One look in Oscar’s broken eyes, and I know I’m in trouble. Oscar’s been hurt before, and everything in me screams to keep him safe. How can I do that when I know being with me will only put him in more danger? More importantly, am I strong enough to walk away from him?