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.

When my father arranged for me to marry the heir to the Costa crime family, I swore I’d do anything to escape that fate. I have more to offer than being some man’s arm candy and producing heirs. Marcelo Costa might be my fiancé, but he’ll never be my husband. So when he and his father are killed in a car bombing, I consider myself lucky. No longer will I have to go from being a mafia princess to becoming a mafia wife, I can now attend the Sicuro Academy—a private college created for mafia children like me.

Alessandro De Luca comes from a rival mafia family, and I'm supposed to hate his guts. Except that now, I'm waking up married to him. Alessandro sees me as a pawn in this arranged marriage. I mean nothing to him... So why do I still feel like he owns my heart when he claims me every night?

When a typical day turns into an unexpected meeting with Kitty, Princeton quickly realizes he’s got something good right in front of him. Something he doesn’t want to let go. As a ghost from his past waltzes in without warning, threatening to take away Kitty, Princeton knows nothing will happen to Kitty and her family as long as he’s breathing. Kitty may not be blood, but she’s family now, and the Banachis do anything for the family.

I didn't plan to ever attend an event, but I needed the money. I thought it was nothing more than an adult version of hide-and-seek. I had no idea how wrong I was. Nor did I know I’d meet my worst nightmare that night: Andrew “Drew” Marshall, popular-as-hell football star and a Greek god among mere mortals. To anyone else, he would appear to be normal, a good guy. But that night I saw the cruel, dark monster hidden underneath. He was the epitome of evil, the leader of the Disciples, and I was his newest obsession.

There was right, there was wrong, and then there was the in-between. The place where normal people reside, understanding that there are two sides to every coin. People that do bad things for good reasons. People that do bad things for bad reasons. First, I knew that Shasha Semyonov was a bad man. One that did bad things for bad reasons. That didn’t mean that I was rational when it came to him.