They say revenge is a dish best served cold. I’d had four years to stew on what Daria Followhill did to me...now my heart was completely iced. I took her first kiss. She took the only thing I loved. I was poor. She was rich. The good thing about circumstances? They can change. Fast. Now, I’m her parents’ latest shiny project. Her housemate. Her tormentor. The captain of the rival football team she hates so much. Yeah, baby girl, say it. I’m your foster brother. There’s a price to pay for ruining the only good thing in my life. She’s about to shell out some serious tears.

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....

It was supposed to be a harmless kiss at a lavish debutante ball. A clandestine moment with a handsome stranger. But unlike his namesake, my Romeo isn’t driven by love. He’s fueled by revenge. To him, I’m a chess piece. Leverage. His rival’s betrothed. To me, he is a man deserving of poison. A dark prince I refuse to marry. He thinks I’ll accept my fate. Well, I plan to rewrite it. And in my story, Juliet doesn’t die. But Romeo? He perishes.

Conceited, unattainable, and downright delicious, renowned Michelin-starred chef Ambrose Casablancas has one passion in life: food. Women are a distraction, and he doesn’t do those. Especially Cal Litvin, his baby sister’s best friend. Her entire existence is a complication; she’s awkward, eccentric, infuriating… And, much to his chagrin, hotter than his kitchen. Ambrose has a lot on his plate: a new restaurant to open, a multi-million-dollar property deal to execute, and a violent stalker to tame. Then Cal shows up at his doorstep.

Célian Laurent. Manhattan royalty. Notorious playboy. Heir to a media empire...and my new boss. I could have impressed him, if not for last month's unforgettable one-night stand. I left it with more than orgasms and a pleasant memory - namely, his wallet. Now he's staring me down like I'm the dirt under his Italian loafers, and I'm supposed to take it. But the thing about being Judith "Jude" Humphry is I have nothing to lose. Brooklyn girl. Infamously quirky. Heir to a stack of medical bills and a tattered couch.

Jolie Louis is a smart girl. She knows that her best friend, Sage Poirier, is a bad idea. He's a walking, talking cliché. The Adonis quarterback with the bulging biceps and harem of fangirls trailing behind him on campus like a stench you can't get rid of. Sadly, that's also the reason she can't stay away from him. Well, that and the fact that they're roommates. Jolie is already straddling the line between friendship and more when Sage comes to her with an offer she cannot refuse.

I'm not supposed to want my ex-boyfriend's dad. But after one scorching night last summer with a sexy, older man who instinctively knew how much I wanted to be called his “good girl," I can't stop thinking about him. Of course, back then, I had no idea who Gideon was. Still, we both agreed that one night was our only night. Our lives were too complicated for anything more, no matter how much I craved it. Then our paths collide again at my ex’s fundraiser. That’s where I learn the truth about who Gideon really is.

They say first loves are oftentimes the end of one’s innocence. Those words couldn’t ring truer for Everlynne Lawson, whose first brush with romance came with a heartbreak…and the thing that seems to follow her everywhere she goes. Death. After a great tragedy, Everlynne loses all she cares about—her dreams, her family, and her soulmate, Joe. Guilt-ridden, Everlynne decides to isolate herself in Salem, Massachusetts.

I landed in hot water with the tabloids one too many times. What can I say? My nipple wanted to come out and say hi to the paparazzi. After that, my father presented me with an ultimatum—either he cuts off the gravy train and stops paying for my lavish lifestyle or I agree to have a live-in bodyguard. And by bodyguard, I mean a sexy, formidable, out-of-this-world babysitter who just happens to be good at breaking spines. Ransom Lockwood, ladies and gentlemen.

They say your first kiss should be earned. Mine was stolen by a devil in a masquerade mask under the black Chicago sky. They say the vows you take on your wedding day are sacred. Mine were broken before we left church. They say your heart only beats for one man. Mine split and bled for two rivals who fought for it until the bitter end. I was promised to Angelo Bandini, the heir to one of the most powerful families in the Chicago Outfit. Then taken by Senator Wolfe Keaton, who held my father’s sins over his head to force me into marriage.

It should have been easy. I needed the money. He needed a babysitter to keep him from snorting himself to death. I was cherry-picked especially for him. Responsible. Optimistic. Warm. Innocent. The worst part is that I should have known better. Alex Winslow. British rock star. Serial heartbreaker. Casanova with whiskey eyes. “Don’t get near the devil in a leather jacket. He’ll chew you up and spit you out.” Guess what? I didn’t listen. I signed the contract. World tour. Three months. Four Continents. 100 shows. My name is Indigo Bellamy, and I sold my soul to a tattooed god.

Sometimes you meet people who are out of this world, so you make them a part of yours. A one-night stand born from vengeance in a foreign land. An explosive chemistry neither of us could deny. We signed a contract on the back of a Boar’s Head Pub napkin that said if we ever met again, we would drop everything and be together. Eight years and thousands of miles later, he’s here. In New York. And he’s America’s music obsession.

I’ve always been a wild card–the first to start a fight on the ice, and the life of the party off it–but appearances can be deceiving. Being traded to the Boston Rebels could not have come at a better time. With serious family obligations to fulfill and a contract renewal with a new hockey team on the line, I have no time for anything else. I return to Boston knowing I need to buckle down and focus on what really matters.

“Give me a second chance, babe . . . and I’ll blow your mind.” Monroe doesn’t know why she answers the text that’s obviously meant for someone else. Or why she keeps answering. Maybe it’s because she’s all alone in a big city and in desperate need of a lifeline. Or maybe it’s because each exchange leaves her intrigued and more than a little turned on. Still, Monroe never would’ve snarked back if she’d known she was talking to the “Golden Boy” of the Dallas Knights.

I would say Dr. Cruz Costello is my archenemy. But that would require acknowledging one another, which we haven’t done in more than a decade. He’s the town’s golden child. The beloved quarterback-turned-physician. I’m the girl who got knocked up at 16 and now works at a diner. He is Fairhope royalty. I get my monarch dose from tabloid gossip. He’s well-off. I’m...well, off. When our siblings get engaged, Cruz’s parents invite both families to a pre-wedding cruise. Except Cruz and I find ourselves stuck on a different ship from everyone else.

They say revenge is a dish best served cold. I’d had four years to stew on what Daria Followhill did to me...now my heart was completely iced. I took her first kiss. She took the only thing I loved. I was poor. She was rich. The good thing about circumstances? They can change. Fast. Now, I’m her parents’ latest shiny project. Her housemate. Her tormentor. The captain of the rival football team she hates so much. Yeah, baby girl, say it. I’m your foster brother. There’s a price to pay for ruining the only good thing in my life. She’s about to shell out some serious tears.

When she was young, Arya Roth became best friends with her housekeeper’s son. Soon, friendship turned to young love, and when Arya dared him to kiss her, a chain reaction of disastrous events led to the boy being sent away and out of Arya’s life. Now, two decades later, Arya is an on-the-rise publicist with her beloved father as one of her biggest clients. So when her father is sued by a former employee, Arya sets out to prove that her father is not the monster he is accused of being. The only problem is the attorney who is determined to destroy her father’s good name.

It was supposed to be a harmless kiss at a lavish debutante ball. A clandestine moment with a handsome stranger. But unlike his namesake, my Romeo isn’t driven by love. He’s fueled by revenge. To him, I’m a chess piece. Leverage. His rival’s betrothed. To me, he is a man deserving of poison. A dark prince I refuse to marry. He thinks I’ll accept my fate. Well, I plan to rewrite it. And in my story, Juliet doesn’t die. But Romeo? He perishes.

Jolie Louis is a smart girl. She knows that her best friend, Sage Poirier, is a bad idea. He's a walking, talking cliché. The Adonis quarterback with the bulging biceps and harem of fangirls trailing behind him on campus like a stench you can't get rid of. Sadly, that's also the reason she can't stay away from him. Well, that and the fact that they're roommates. Jolie is already straddling the line between friendship and more when Sage comes to her with an offer she cannot refuse.

Cash Ryatt is a distraction. It's no secret the bad boy race car driver has built a reputation from two things. Winning and fu-front-page headlines. I've read he's the best at both, but I have no intention of finding out firsthand. I have my own plans, and they don't include making the gossip sites as his next one-night stand. My three older brothers, his bosses, would never stand for it anyway. So, how did I find myself daydreaming about the one man I've been forbidden from dating? His mere proximity causes my heart to beat wildly in my chest.

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....

Troy Brennan: Every Southie in Boston knows that name. The son of a dead mobster. The heartthrob with steel-blue eyes. "The Fixer" who can make or break you in this city. Oh, and my new husband. Sparrow Raynes: That's me. No one seemed to remember my name up until he barged into my life. But then he caged me. Kidnapped me. And killed every chance I had to run away from the place where we grew up.

Holt Sebastian is royalty in our world. As CEO of the Sebastian News Corp, he’s the man with all the power. The man who decides if I’ll always just be a local television anchor or if I’ll be the rising star of my own show.

I caught her staring at me from across the quad, eyes fixed on the football jersey stretched across my wide chest. And if I flexed my muscles, showing off the strength of a defensive tackle, it was just to see her blush. And then she did, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Her wide eyes. The freckles on her cheeks. I needed to know her. The girl who scampered away every time we bumped into each other—by accident and by design.

I would say Dr. Cruz Costello is my archenemy. But that would require acknowledging one another, which we haven’t done in more than a decade. He’s the town’s golden child. The beloved quarterback-turned-physician. I’m the girl who got knocked up at 16 and now works at a diner. He is Fairhope royalty. I get my monarch dose from tabloid gossip. He’s well-off. I’m...well, off. When our siblings get engaged, Cruz’s parents invite both families to a pre-wedding cruise. Except Cruz and I find ourselves stuck on a different ship from everyone else.

My daddy warned me never to fall for a boy like Jace Jacobs . . . The second I saw him walk through the door, I knew he was trouble. A gorgeous rebel with a bad attitude and a huge chip on his shoulder. My heart warned me. I didn’t listen. I fell hard and fast. He promised we’d be together forever, and then left me with a broken heart. Now, ten years later, Jace Jacobs is standing at my door. Sexier than he’s ever been. Successful and powerful. The man I always knew he would become. But I promised myself I’d never lose my heart to him again.

When Jess Montell meets Trace West at a hockey game, she doesn’t know his name or occupation. What she does know is there’s an instant attraction that’s impossible to ignore—or forget. And forgetting is exactly what she wants to do when she learns he’s not just a successful Wall Street suit but the heir to one of New York’s biggest Mafia families. The last thing Trace needs is a romantic anything with law enforcement, and parole officer Jess has trouble written all over her. Too bad he likes trouble.

It was supposed to be a temporary thing. A gig in Paris while I tried to find my dad. Then I met him. Ho. The man. The suit. The professional escort...? I mean, he did go on two consecutive dates during one of my shifts - and I ended up being the third. It was supposed to be a one-night stand, but it turned out to be forever. Here was what I wasn't ready for - Ho held more than just my destiny and my heart. He held the key to unravel the mystery of my dad, too.

We were always told as children that monsters are the things that go bump in the night, but they were wrong. Monsters are often the ones that warm your bed, poison dripping from their teeth and claws, embedding in your skin. I hunt them. I end them. Without hesitation. But…then I hesitated. I stumbled straight into the monster’s den, the biggest and baddest of them all. The king of New York. Roman Antonov. I fell in love with him, and his demons. And I hate him for it.

His name is Nate and I should hate him, but I don't. I'm not supposed to know his real name, even worse, I'm not supposed to care. He is nothing to me but means to an end. The plan is simple: break free, collect the pieces of my broken soul, kill the bastards and run away.