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.

We're not free to give into this. She's 19, and I'm 38. And I'm her boyfriend's father. Unfortunately, they both just moved into my house.

Eight years ago I fell into a secret summer fling with my best friend’s little sister before our lives went in different directions. Now, I’m the grumpy to Juliet’s sunshine on a popular dating podcast we host, and when a wealthy fan gives us a charming coastal cottage as the biggest thank you ever, we head to the town where I grew up to give it a makeover. And find the house has only one bed. Located under a mirrored ceiling.

Whip King cannot be the man for me. Cocky, pierced firefighters are perfect for late-night rom-coms, but in real life they’re nothing but trouble. Especially when you find out they work for your dad—after you’ve already slept with them. Moving to my parents’ small town was supposed to be the fresh start I was looking for. When a disastrous Valentine’s Day leads to an unexpected encounter with a sexy stranger, and ends with the hottest night of my life, I didn’t think I would ever see Whip again.

Gabriel Thompson and I are like oil and water. Our New York families control two of the nation’s largest companies and the business rivalry is decades old. We’ve carried the torch ourselves since childhood. But then we bump into each other after a conference in Vegas. Drinks are involved, and he utters the three little words I can’t resist. I dare you. The next morning we wake up hungover, late, and worst of all, married.

Hawk McQuaid is not the guy who stays. He doesn’t do relationships. Especially not with the virgin amputee who accidentally became his nanny during an elevator mishap. But he’s wound himself around my heart.

Secretly hooking up with the team captain's sister was a bad idea. In my defense, the first time I saw her I didn't know who she was. Kind, gorgeous, a little naïve. Ginny brightened my world from day one. I knew I was no good for her. She was just out of a relationship, and I had a reputation for having a new girl in my bed every weekend. I tried to do the right thing. Honest. I'm the one who insisted we should be just friends. That lasted about as long as you'd expect. But Ginny? She's the best - best friend, best everything.

You know what, just throw me the whole bottle of Tequila at this point. Hayden might not have been successful in killing me, but planning my wedding might just do it. There’s so much to do and pick out, and somehow Asher is always able to get out of being tortured by my extremely excited Mother who is helping me, (I say that with so much joy. No really, who would want a professional wedding planner to do all the work when you can spend hours each day doing it yourself!) lucky asshole. Add on to the fact that we’re still looking over our shoulder for his deadbeat of a father’s old ...