I never knew what hit me. Rex stormed into my little world with two adorable twin boys and no apologies. Bearish. Short-fused. Consuming. Huge. Torturously gorgeous. Leave-your-heart-in-pieces wrong. Did I mention HUGE? He's instant trouble the second he checks into our lodge and my overprotective grandpa hires him. Then I catch him staring with that knowing ache in his eyes. I forget what trouble even means. He also needs a nanny. Sold.

It was one freaking kiss with a stranger. I wasn't looking for a hero the day Brent Eden charged into my life. He saw a damsel in distress facing humiliation. We played pretend. Swore I was his. Baited sweet chaos. Blew apart everything. My dating disaster? Gone. Our kiss? Electric. Divine. Toe-curling. His mistake? Oh, boy. Dropping the ultimate F-bomb: fiancée. Especially when my gossipy cousin tells the whole family.

Marshal Howard is a death wish wrapped in mystery. Cold, rude, insanely overprotective single dad. Everyone in our little town warned me to stay far, far away. I didn't listen. I answered the castoff's nanny ad because no one else would. I got too close. I saw through his vicious reputation. He's a man who's turning my heart inside out, making me a fool. If it was just the bad blood with him and my family, maybe we'd work through this. Maybe we'd find paradise. Just me, him, and that adorable little girl. But surprises come in threes. Like the lines on the pregnancy test.

Bossy. Heart of stone. Snarly mess next door. Send help before I'm prick-matized.... My next big mistake has a name. Warren Ford. Best kept secret in this weird little town. An alpha's alpha. Spartan abs. Too blunt for everybody's good. Moody, broody, mysterious, and totally up in my business.

His proposal came in a little black envelope with 13 unlucky words: You still owe me that favor, doll, and I'm cashing in. Marry me. In a normal life, I'd never get hitched to Calvin Randolph. Not with his heart-stopping blue eyes, infamous player reputation, and an ego bigger than the part of his anatomy he loves boasting about the most. Been there, done that. All except the last part, which he's left to my shameful imagination for seven years apart. Of course, the fake fiancée contract I just signed is anything but normal.

Strange men do funny things when you score the last cinnamon roll. Sometimes he rages about the high crime of jacking his precious pastry. Sometimes he offers you ludicrous bribes to buy it back. And sometimes—after shattering your faith in humanity—you find out he's your new boss. I'm not laughing.

My “interview” with bosshole supreme was anything but normal. He picked the worst day ever to chase me off my favorite park bench. I retaliated with a spray of cinnamon latte all over his Italian shoes. Then - for some unholy reason - Magnus Heron offered me a job.

My fresh start turned into a dumpster fire. Awesome new job. Small town heaven. Friendly faces galore. Then I strolled into my new home and found the unspeakable. Just when I'm sure it can't get worse, I'm “rescued” by a man who makes me see red for miles. Enter Lucas Graves. A bossy grump with a badge who's sworn to keep me safe. He rocks the scary-hot vibe, he reads too much, and he never misses a chance to give me crap for being a nerdy little cactus who mouths back. Not the type of man I'd go for in my right mind. Definitely not the type I should keep trading bruising kisses with.

He never bothered with hello. The shrieking hot stranger had me dizzy the instant he said we're engaged. Then he chased off the bully on our heels and dragged me back to his place for the night. Pure insanity, right? Wrong. You don't let pride do the talking when you're homeless, on the run, and hauling around your sick father in a truck so old it must've been on Noah's Ark. You definitely don't complain when Ridge Barnet takes charge. (In)famous heartthrob. Stinking rich. Fed up owner of one angry rooster. Eyes set to permanent storm.

My biological clock just exploded. Eighteen months. That's how long I have to make a baby happen before it becomes one more broken dream. Fate has a sick sense of humor, though. Its name is Hayden Shaw. Yes, the Hayden Shaw. Billionaire developer, scandalously gorgeous, his hard-headed ego only eclipsed by his enormous...reputation. He needs a bride to fool the world. I need a baby. It's simple business. Strictly professional.

The dirty little secret Dad left in the basement was supposed to be our salvation. Guess nobody told him you don't take cash from killers without savage consequences. Now the Grizzlies Motorcycle Club owns my sister and me. We're only alive because the rugged hulk with the piercing eyes who won't stop ordering me around says so. He saved us, but he's also an enigma I don't understand.

I wasn't supposed to end up in an outlaw biker's bed. I wasn't supposed to love it. I definitely wasn't supposed to crave his fiery kisses, beg for his touch, or ache to know the man behind the evil-looking ink and scarred smirk. I was the good girl. He was the monster. Then everything changed. I became a prisoner. I prayed for Skin to save me. He did - and he kept me for himself.

Sometimes you need to crash a funeral to experience happiness. At least Kissimmee Singh, aerial artist for Singh Circus, the most sought-after traveling circus of all time, keeps telling herself that’s why she crashes funerals. In reality, she’s lost and confused. Sometimes it’s nice to experience other people’s grief and be reminded that life isn’t as bad as it could be.

I’ve sworn off men to focus on my dream job that starts on Monday. But my best friend talks me into a final night of fun—a blind date. I only agree because the guy is going to work as a doctor in Africa. It’s the best date of my life. Dr. Africa makes me laugh and swoon, and I want to give him a thorough physical examination. He turns into Dr. One Night Stand, and I’m not sad about it. Monday morning, I’m enthusiastic and excited, until I bump into...you guessed it.

Rule number one for having a one-night stand: Don’t fall for the girl. After a lengthy dating slump, I finally met someone who sparked my interest. Well, first the sparks flew when we argued. Later in the evening those sparks ignited into something more. I was drawn to Devyn, in a way I hadn’t felt in a really long time. Needless to say, I was disappointed when she abruptly left after our amazing night together. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But she hadn’t even given me her number. In a city with eight-million people, I figured I’d never see Devyn again.

His proposal came in a little black envelope with 13 unlucky words: You still owe me that favor, doll, and I'm cashing in. Marry me. In a normal life, I'd never get hitched to Calvin Randolph. Not with his heart-stopping blue eyes, infamous player reputation, and an ego bigger than the part of his anatomy he loves boasting about the most. Been there, done that. All except the last part, which he's left to my shameful imagination for seven years apart. Of course, the fake fiancée contract I just signed is anything but normal.

Marshal Howard is a death wish wrapped in mystery. Cold, rude, insanely overprotective single dad. Everyone in our little town warned me to stay far, far away. I didn't listen. I answered the castoff's nanny ad because no one else would. I got too close. I saw through his vicious reputation. He's a man who's turning my heart inside out, making me a fool. If it was just the bad blood with him and my family, maybe we'd work through this. Maybe we'd find paradise. Just me, him, and that adorable little girl. But surprises come in threes. Like the lines on the pregnancy test.

Sometimes you don't mean to become another person. Sometimes the choice is made for you, and pretending is the only thing that keeps you going. When Alexis Romera is taken and her kidnappers find her fake ID in her purse, she must become Sophia in order to keep her family safe. Revealing her real identity to the man she's sold to would be easy enough, but can she trust him? Hell-bent on avenging the murder of his uncle, Rebel doesn't seem all that interested in playing things safe.

Corbin: I loved my grandma, but I don't need her money. All I care about is keeping the house - the only place that's ever felt like home. That, and screwing over my dad, who wants to turn the property into a mall. There's only one catch: to receive my inheritance, I have to get married within six months. Me, the guy who's never dated a girl for more than six minutes. Now I need to find a woman I can trust. So when I'm rear-ended by a Prius, I figure it's a sign that I'm supposed to meet gorgeous, down-to-earth Teagan Monroe.

One look at Jericho Forge, and I knew the rumors were true. He was a predator, and he had set his sights on me. I knew better than to bet more than I could afford to lose that night. I knew better than to bet myself. But desperation leads to bad decisions, and I thought there was no way I could lose. I was wrong. Now I have no choice but to make a deal with the devil....

There's an animal in me that I keep hidden. Beth calls to him. She tempts the monster and lures him to the surface. I'm obsessed with her. I can't stay away, even when doing so puts my entire club in danger. Her blood is on my hands. I formed her to fit only me. I was her first and if I have to kill everyone in our way. So be it. I will be her last. She is mine.

They call me Girth for a reason. I’m a damn giant. The muscle in the MC. It’s why I get sent out on loan when some of our brothers down South need some help. And by help, I mean crush some guys' skulls. That’s what the Marked Skulls are good at. Name fits, right? But when I get there, I’m tasked with protecting the President’s daughter, Lila. She’s petite and gorgeous, and all I can do is look. The Pres made it clear; I can’t touch. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? Until he finds out.

Fresh off a divorce from a Hollywood hotshot, Madison Atwood needs an escape. With the paparazzi fresh on her heels and her love life splashed on every tabloid, she runs away to a swanky retreat in Northern California. Avalon Springs is the mountainside haven she needs to find herself again. Luke Dawson lives off the grid, preferring solitude to society. When he finds a beautiful woman soaking in the hot springs on his property, he can't stop himself from watching her. She captures his attention, but she's just a city girl - a beautiful distraction disturbing the peace.

I'm a rescuer. It's in my DNA. Stray dogs. Stray women... But this one doesn't need rescuing. She needs something real, but I never keep the ones I rescue. I could let her go...but I can't watch her walk away. I'm an ex-Navy SEAL, and I never give up on a mission.

When I walked away from Makayla ten years ago, I swore I’d never look back. So did she, after the haunting lie I told her...But it was the only way to keep her safe and as far away from me as possible. She’s better off without me. I don’t care if I’m broken without her. But years later, when I’m hired by her agent to act as her bodyguard, I can’t keep myself away, especially when I learn how much danger she's in. Now she’s mine for a week, and I’m not going to let anything happen to her. Even if she seems intent on making my life a living hell.

With his tight muscles and vibrant ink, certified bachelor Reece Walker is the kind of man who’s used to having any woman he craves in his bed - except Jenna Montgomery. She’s been his best friend for years, and that’s a line he just can’t cross. Until a wild, stolen kiss changes everything. Now anything goes, and Reece is determined to use every wicked skill in his sensual repertoire to claim Jenna as his friend, his lover, his everything.

She was supposed to be mine forever. But the night our fathers were killed, Sydney decided this life wasn't for her. So she ran. She left me, and our club behind. I never expected to see her on my doorstep six years later. With our child. She looks different, but she's still as beautiful as ever. Those hips, her sultry smile, I can't get over her. But she didn't leave the life, and she's got a DEA agent on her tail.

Cara Donovan's summer tutoring job is turning out to be a challenge - and not just because of her troubled 12-year-old student. It's his uncle Josh who's the real problem. If problem is the word for an irresistibly cocky, muscle-bound rancher with a taste for tight Levi's and shameless flirtation…Cara is nothing like the wallflower Josh King remembers good-naturedly teasing in high school. This Cara is gorgeous, confident, fun. From the moment the fiery teacher steps foot on his family's Lazy K Ranch, the stubborn playboy is determined to corral her. So what happens when his luscious lover takes over the reins?

I'll never forget the night I caught her sneaking around my place. She thought she could steal from me and get away with it, but I have no intention of letting her get away at all. Mian Ross has a lesson to learn, and I'm going to be the one to teach it to her.

Anything can be fixed with a little Duct Tape and sass... At least that's what celebrity fixer, Delilah Donovan, used to think. She prides herself on being able to handle anything. But when she's asked to fix the new CEO of Synth Games, she never dreams she'll come face to face with the only man to ever break her heart. The past can't always be fixed... When a friend calls in a long ago favor, reformed hacker, Nate Williams, worries that his shady past will come back to haunt him.

Marshal Howard is a death wish wrapped in mystery. Cold, rude, insanely overprotective single dad. Everyone in our little town warned me to stay far, far away. I didn't listen. I answered the castoff's nanny ad because no one else would. I got too close. I saw through his vicious reputation. He's a man who's turning my heart inside out, making me a fool. If it was just the bad blood with him and my family, maybe we'd work through this. Maybe we'd find paradise. Just me, him, and that adorable little girl. But surprises come in threes. Like the lines on the pregnancy test.

I never knew what hit me. Rex stormed into my little world with two adorable twin boys and no apologies. Bearish. Short-fused. Consuming. Huge. Torturously gorgeous. Leave-your-heart-in-pieces wrong. Did I mention HUGE? He's instant trouble the second he checks into our lodge and my overprotective grandpa hires him. Then I catch him staring with that knowing ache in his eyes. I forget what trouble even means. He also needs a nanny. Sold.

I can still pinpoint the exact second when my life became two truths and a lie. You don't forget delivering a mountain of fresh-baked sweets to a man like Dexter Rory. I never wanted to see his scowling, bossy, brutally godlike face again, no matter how well he tipped. If you told me I'd wind up wearing his ring, I would've died laughing. But here I am, trying to cling to my sanity while I confront the undeniable.

His proposal came in a little black envelope with 13 unlucky words: You still owe me that favor, doll, and I'm cashing in. Marry me. In a normal life, I'd never get hitched to Calvin Randolph. Not with his heart-stopping blue eyes, infamous player reputation, and an ego bigger than the part of his anatomy he loves boasting about the most. Been there, done that. All except the last part, which he's left to my shameful imagination for seven years apart. Of course, the fake fiancée contract I just signed is anything but normal.

A force of nature blew in. His name is Chris Triton. Tattooed god. Moody ex SEAL. Zero filter. Born to drive me bonkers. We barely spoke for 10 minutes before he kissed my soul out. Too fast. Too intense. Too flipping good. Then I found out we'd be sharing the same roof the very next day. Dad marrying his mom squashed our little chemistry experiment instantly. You know, the normal reaction. But Chris doesn't do normal. Or predictable. Or sane.