Will: Turning up on the first day of a job you desperately need to discover you’ve already slept with your billionaire boss? Yeah, that’s a bit of a conundrum. Learning he’s a closeted bisexual currently embroiled in a - by all accounts bogus - sexual harassment scandal? That’s more of a fiasco. But having to sit outside the office of one of the sexiest men alive, day in, day out, knowing there’s no chance of a repeat? That’s what I’d call a disaster.

It was supposed to be a straightforward protection job. Remove the target from Vermont, get him to the safehouse, keep him there until his mafia uncle testifies, get back in my employer’s good graces. But it turns out things get complicated real fast when your target is an adorkable, accident-prone cutie with a shockingly low sense of self-preservation, zero clue that he’s related to the Fromadgio crime boss, and 100% too much inclination to chat happily with strangers.

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.

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.

I have one rule to live by: Don't Date a DILF. I've seen the consequences of blurring the boundaries between teaching life and dating life, and I'm not about to take that kind of risk.

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.

Rowe Prince is many things. But when it turns out Rowe’s lies conceal a secret that threatens the company I’ve spent years building, I have to choose: say goodbye to the sweet pretender I’m falling for, or risk everything for a man who just might be… the prince of lies.

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.

Moving to London is scary and daunting, but I desperately need this job–and a redo. Okay, so I may have oversold my qualifications. That shouldn’t be a big deal, though. I mean, being an assistant’s assistant seems easy enough, and I’m a fast learner. Hold up! I’m already in over my head with spreadsheets, new pronunciations, and temperamental appliances.

My relationship with twins Damon and Declan has always been close. Too close, according to what society has deemed appropriate between guy friends. But that's never stopped our hugging and cuddling—in public or private. My best friends knew I didn't receive affection from home, so they never let me go without it.

There’s nothing wrong with admiring a work of art, or so I tell myself…even when the admiring is more like peeping out my bedroom window, and the work of art is the shirtless, sweaty, body of the man who’s been mowing my lawn once a week every summer for years.

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.

Freddie Evans is flamboyant, funny, and a lifelong fan of Jane Austen’s love stories which is how he ended up as a guide on a tour bus. He firmly believes in happily ever afters and would love to find his own with his best friend, Darcy. Driving a Jane Austen tour bus isn’t the most exciting side job in the world, but to Darcy Griffiths, it represents precious time with his best friend Freddie, who’s the guide. He’s loved him since they were teenagers but has never had the nerve to tell him.

Being invited to my cousin’s wedding really shouldn’t be a big deal except, oh yeah, I haven't seen my family for a decade. My parents turned their backs on me, and I’ve done everything since to become successful and show them what they've lost. Only it’s kinda hard to be a success when you’re a walking trainwreck.

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.

It’s the flight before Christmas and Molly just got an unexpected gift: a free first-class upgrade on her plane trip home for the holidays. Bring on the complimentary cocktails! But after one too many, she spills all her secrets to the hot guy seated next to her—only to wake up mortified when her buzz has worn off. At least she never has to see Liam again ... or so she thinks. When Molly arrives at Christmas House, the festive rental home that she and her family are sharing with her sister’s fiancé and his wealthy family, she discovers that Liam is one of the new in-laws. Oops.

When mystery author D. B. Ziegler is late delivering her book, Abi Schore steps in to help. Surely she can give her favorite author moral support over the holiday break and get the manuscript to her boss at Tea & Sympathy Publishing in time for the new year. When Abi shows up on Ms. Ziegler’s doorstep bearing holiday treats, she’s met by the author’s handsome grandson Dov, who reveals a startling plot twist. His grandmother isn’t able to finish the book and Dov promised he’d complete it so fans won’t be disappointed—a task that’s harder than he ever imagined.

Living in a year around Christmas town has its drawbacks. The caroling, the decorations, the insanely cheery spirit, it never disappears. It's why I like to hibernate away in my cave - I mean housekeeping a healthy distance from the holly jolly spirits. And all was going according to plan until my nemesis, Storee Taylor, moved in next door to care for her Aunt Cindy. Without blinking, she turned my simple world into a real nightmare-before-Christmas, especially when she decided to enter the town Christmas Kringle contest - which she was determined to win.

There's no place like home for the holidays ... especially for Lesley Carver. Life in the big city just wasn't her jam and now she's back in Hickory Falls, working at the family diner and helping her mom after she took a tumble. Lesley longs to build a life here, working at the cafe, selling her handmade ornaments and ... er, apparently reviving her high school crush on her best friend’s older brother. Only one problem, her mom wants her to leave Hickory Falls far behind.

Evie Crowe is starting over in a strange town with her newborn, and men are the furthest thing from her mind. If only the quiet, hulking farmer, Luke Ward, would stop coming into the thrift shop and piquing her reluctant interest. Evie wants to stay single all the way—she can’t trust anything more than friends-with-holiday-benefits. But Luke is in it for the long haul. He’s fixed on making this a Christmas Evie will remember forever. If she gives him a chance.

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.

Tilly Farriday isn’t feeling very jolly this season. Recently divorced and broke, she’s squatting in one of her rental agency’s properties until her new home is ready. The sprinkles on top of the burnt Christmas cookie that is her life? The new owner shows up early, forcing Tilly to hide in the attic to save her job…and what remains of her dignity.

Clark Griswold was onto something...at least with his annual holiday meltdown. And since the last three weeks of my life have been riddled with humbug—another breakup, a broken toe, an office promotion I deserved and didn’t get—I’m not at all in the mood to celebrate nor have the happ, happ, happiest Christmas EVER.

After a snowstorm grounds her flight, Lucy makes a last-ditch effort to get home for Christmas using a rideshare app. She thinks she’ll be taking a road trip with a stranger...but the guy who shows up is someone she knows all too well. He’s the hookup she ghosted a few months ago, and now she’ll be stuck in a car with him for the most awkward road trip of her life.

After a bad breakup, Nola wants nothing to do with Christmas, especially in her quaint hometown of Bright Harbor, Maine. Infuriatingly charming and cheery, Nola’s surroundings only worsen her sour mood. To make matters worse, Caleb, the boy who broke her heart years ago, is all grown up and still living in town. While doing her best to avoid him, Nola bumps into the local mailman, who gives her a mysterious letter. And when she finds that the writer is a fellow Scrooge, she can’t help but feel her spirit lifting.

Twelve years ago, I thought I had everything figured out: I’d go off to college, get my marketing degree, come back to my charming little hometown, help my high school sweetheart build his carpentry business, and live happily ever after. Instead, on the eve of my college departure, Slater Goode (henceforth known as The Devil) ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped all over it. But I don’t care about that anymore. At. All. Then I get some news: The Devil’s grandfather, whom I love as if he were my own, has passed away, and missing his funeral is not an option.

It starts as a simple favor. Now that he’s home from college, my best friend’s brother Tucker needs a place to stay, and I happen to have a spare room. Then it becomes a confession. Tucker tells me he’s a virgin. And he’s on a mission to swipe that V card once and for all. While Tucker searches for the perfect guy to pop his cherry, I find myself growing more agitated with the situation. He’s my best friend’s brother, a kid I’ve watched grow up; it’s normal for me to want to protect him. It has nothing to do with the way my stomach flips at the sight of his smile.

Will: Turning up on the first day of a job you desperately need to discover you’ve already slept with your billionaire boss? Yeah, that’s a bit of a conundrum. Learning he’s a closeted bisexual currently embroiled in a - by all accounts bogus - sexual harassment scandal? That’s more of a fiasco. But having to sit outside the office of one of the sexiest men alive, day in, day out, knowing there’s no chance of a repeat? That’s what I’d call a disaster.

Being invited to my cousin’s wedding really shouldn’t be a big deal except, oh yeah, I haven't seen my family for a decade. My parents turned their backs on me, and I’ve done everything since to become successful and show them what they've lost. Only it’s kinda hard to be a success when you’re a walking trainwreck.

I have one rule when it comes to my sex life: I only hook up with guys who identify as straight. It’s a tried and tested way of avoiding the cling factor, which I’ve found to be a huge problem in the past. A one-night stand with a curious "straight" guy is the perfect situation. Of course, there’s one straight guy who’s completely off-limits. George Goode is sweet, charming, hilarious, and sexy as hell. And he’s also become one of my best friends since I moved to the tiny town of Finchley about a year ago. But let’s make one thing clear: I do not have feelings for him.