Forty-five, recently divorced and a certified hot mess. The last thing Fiona needs to start her vacation is a flooded hotel room and a broken-down car. Alas, that’s what she gets. She’s ready to pack it all in and go home - wherever that is - when her knight in a wet T-shirt strides in to save the day. Jaw-dropping, panty-melting Grant Greene takes the 'mess' out of 'certified hot mess' when he walks up to Fiona and offers her a room to stay. No strings attached. Great, right?

Three lifelong best friends go to a destination wedding...and nothing will ever be the same.

I thought my invitation was a birthday present from my best friend. The dress, the limousine, the red carpet...I thought they were meant for me. That was mistake number one. Then my date arrives, all gleaming cufflinks and tousled hair, steely blue eyes, and a body honed to masculine precision. Arrogant. Charming. Panty-melting. And melt, they do. Hanky-panky with a rich hottie in the back room of the event I'm crashing? Don't mind if I do.

With the name Holliday, you’d think I’d be all about the Christmas season. Most years, I am, but this one not so much. Between my ex being a real Scrooge-in-the-backside, re-entering the workforce, wrangling my two children, and evading my eight-year-old’s questions about Santa’s existence, I’m struggling to believe in the magic myself.

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.

He’s an Army Ranger. She’s a baker. He’s organized and ridged. She’s messy and carefree. He doesn’t do relationships. She’s following her heart. His family chat blows up his phone. She just buried her last living relative. The holiday season doesn’t seem so jolly, as they venture from one mode of transportation to the next.

A successful writer accidentally sends her new (and super-dreamy) editor the wrong manuscript. Instead of the full-length paranormal novel she promised Longstrand Publishing, she sends the fan fiction she’s written about her crush…on him—including every detail of the hot, steamy “physical activity” she’s fantasized about happening between them.

Five hockey players, a cabin in the woods...and little old me, Winnie Berlin. Sounds like the start of a fantasy, right? But it's not. It's my reality. It all started when I got lost in the middle of the Canadian Rockies. A wicked thunderstorm sent my car mud sliding into a ditch, and for a girl whose survival skills involve finding the nearest Starbucks, I was in deep trouble. Forced to abandon my car in search of help, I stumbled upon a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

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.

When the divorced mother of the groom goes head-to-head with the single father of the bride, they might be the next couple experiencing a heart-to-heart. When my son asked me to take his ticket for the honeymoon that didn’t happen, I balked. What would I do on a 10-day vacation in Belize? More importantly, what caused my son and the love of his life to call off their wedding? I didn’t have an answer, and he wasn’t sharing, so I traded places with him. Over a week of sunshine and me-time was on the docket, until he arrived.

What do a cocky biker and a businesswoman who has sworn off dating bad boys have in common? According to Chloe Mallery, not much. But Justin Wicked has had his eye on her for a long time, and he is sure the inescapable heat between them runs far deeper than just physical attraction. Could their difficult pasts be drawing them together, or will Justin’s protective nature be too much for Chloe’s independent heart to accept? Buckle up for a spectacular ride, and fall in love with Justin and Chloe in A Little Bit Wicked, a fun, sexy standalone romance.

He's a billionaire heir. A grump supreme. Hater of people. Bigger hater of peopling with people. And my new fake boyfriend. "Emotionally unavailable" doesn’t even begin to describe Hayes Rutherford. He has more defenses than a nuclear missile silo. And he’s the ultimate catch of the century. At least, according to his bank statement. My job’s simple: Keep all interested ladies away from the walled-off heir, by pretending to be his one true love. But you know what they say about fake-dating a billionaire: It’s all fun and games, until the scandals start.

I’d been in Curmudgeon Bakery for one of those lemon baby-Bundt cakes I’d been craving since I found out I was pregnant. The draw had nothing to do with the baker himself. Tall, tatted, and edgy, he looked more like a biker than a man who makes baked goods. I hardly knew him other than taking a tumble in a rainstorm in front of his shop... and then tossing myself at him after he rescued me. We shared a moment, but it’s not what you’d think. Months later, he delivered my baby among his cookies and cakes. Talk about a second chance encounter.

I haven’t been having much luck on the dating scene lately, ever since my breakup with my longtime college girlfriend. I thought being 25 and single would be a blast, but dating apps are trash, and I’ve managed to get nothing but three fake numbers at my favorite bar. Thankfully, the actual owner of the third fake number was kind enough to reply to let me know I’d texted the wrong number. She was warm and open and expressed curiosity about the fake number I’d been given, so we got to texting.

Lila James is my best friend’s little sister, and I’ve always looked out for her. She's five years younger than me, and when she left for college, she was just a kid. But now she’s home for the summer—and she’s definitely not a kid anymore.