His own marriage was a whirlwind affair that ended before the ink could dry on the wedding certificate. Nevertheless, even with his divorce pending, he’s getting by. Or at least he was until he finds himself snowed in at a remote Scottish hotel with the wedding party from hell, a terrible ABBA tribute band, and his soon-to-be ex-husband.

The furniture district is my personal hell. I don’t know my ass from an ottoman. But when a hot designer comes to my rescue, I realize my problems are bigger than the house I’m trying to furnish.

When the light-magic users known as Casters took everything from me, I vowed to make them pay. Little did I know the perfect opportunity would show up in the form of a sweet Caster the moment I took his arrow to the heart…literally. Bastian knows that I’m made of dark magic, the very thing he’s been taught to destroy. But instead of turning away from me, he takes a chance on me, leading me behind the walls of the group out to kill me.

Conor: It starts with a drunken text pic. The kind I would normally never send. Only, instead of it going to the flirty hotel bartender, it goes to some random stranger who actually responds. Wells: The first thing I notice about Conor Newell when he sits down in my high-rise conference room is how delightfully nervous he is. Then I see his tie. The same geeky tie that’s held hostage on my phone. The one that belongs to my anonymous late-night texter. And it changes everything.

One mage: Bel Adams–part demon, gun shy about being rejected by one again, needs a familiar. One familiar: Nico di Rossi–Army Ranger, needs a change of pace and a new purpose in life, is a golden retriever in human form (though not literally). Plus one familiar: Garen Dallarosa–Secret Service, part gargoyle, needs his ex-lover Nico back.

Paul Morgan has been running his luxury camping tour business in Kakadu National Park for the last five years, taking small groups glamping, hiking, climbing, and swimming. It’s been a busy five years—a hard five years—as he tried to forget the man he left behind.

Two years ago, I made a mistake, a big one. Then I added a couple more just for good measure. I screwed up my life, but I survived. Now I have the opportunity for a fresh start. Two years in NZ. Away from the LA gossip, a chance to breathe, to rebuild my life. But I’m taking a new set of rules with me. I don’t do relationships. I don’t do commitment. I don’t do white picket fences. And I especially don’t do arrogant, holier-than-thou, smoking hot K9 officers who walk into my ER and rock my world.

Hockey is in my blood. I learned to skate before I learned how to ride a bike. I’ve been on a wild ride, playing at the highest level for some of the biggest and best teams in the league. But now it’s over, and I’m not sure what to do with myself. So I'm going home to Elmwood. But I’ll tell you what I’m not gonna do—I’m not going to coach my buddy’s junior hockey league. No chance. I don’t know how to deal with kids, and besides, the other coach—who happens to be my best friend’s brother—hates me. With reason.

Most people in Aleksey Rider-Mikkelsen’s life would probably assert that at 50, honest living and sobriety were long overdue. But recovering in bed from the lingering after-effects of his leg injury, bored, in pain, and feeling entirely irrelevant, Aleksey doesn’t much care what Benjamin Rider-Mikkelsen thinks. He doesn’t appreciate the close monitoring either.

Ever since we met two years ago, Eden Burkehammer has made everything better. The big defenseman sets me at ease. He’s a beast on the ice—brutal and physical—but when it’s the two of us, he turns to me with these unexpectedly soft brown eyes. This gravelly laugh that makes my whole body smile. And yeah, I might have thrown a glance his way a time or two in the steamed-up locker room showers—you know, just curious. But he’s my best friend. My teammate. Roommate. I don’t want to mess with that. Just the thought of losing him sends a cold zap the full length of my spine.

Olly Järvinen has a long way to go. He's got a fresh start playing for a new team, but getting his hockey career back on track is going to take more than a change of scenery. He's got to shut his past out and focus. On the game, not on his rookie roommate and his annoyingly sunny disposition—and annoyingly distracting good looks. All Benji Bryzinski ever wanted was to play in the big leagues, and he's not going to waste one single second of his rookie season. Yoga, kale smoothies, and guided meditation help keep his head in the game. But his roommate keeps knocking him off track.

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.

Raising my sister's autistic son was an unexpected plot twist in my own life. But I loved every minute of it. Even if those minutes meant everything ran on a rigid schedule with little time for anything else. I lived my life for him: software developer by day, bartender by night. He’d want for nothing. And I had no time to want anything. But lately it’s getting harder to do it all on my own.

Help! I've inherited my aunt's historic house in small-town Oregon, and I need to fix it up and sell it fast before I move on to my big-city dreams. I'm one of the navy's best investigators, but twenty years of living in base housing means DIY isn't part of my extensive skill set.

The Dean of Admissions at the girls’ dream school says only families with two parents need apply, and in desperation, Grant makes me a different offer: to be his on-paper husband. With things heating up between us and my heart hanging in the balance, how can I convince Grant to make me the proposal I really want: to turn this marriage of convenience into a real-life happily-ever-after?

Cassidy Martin is a country boy through and through. He loves his horses, his Lord of the Rings tourist business, and his isolated paradise at the foot of New Zealand’s Southern Alps. Not that everyone appreciates the seclusion he craves. Take his ex-wife, for example. The sexy-as-hell guy on his latest tour might be whip-smart and push all of Cass’ buttons, but he’s about as country as a pair of Louboutins, and Cass has been there and done that. Broken heart with the T-shirt.

Ethan Sharpe is living every young Kiwi's dream—seeing the world for a couple of years while deciding what to do with his life, no rush. Then he gets a call. Two days later he's back in New Zealand. Six months later his mother is dead, his 15-year-old brother is going off the rails, and the café he's inherited is failing. His life is a hot mess and the last thing he needs is another complication—like the man who just walked into his café—a much older...sinfully hot...epic complication.

When life drowns you in lemons, to hell with making lemonade. I wanted to burn the whole world. But eighteen months from the day my life was torn apart, I’m tired of the anger. Tired of the nightmares. Tired of putting one foot in front of the other just trying to survive. Three months on a high country sheep station in the middle of nowhere is precisely the reboot I need. A chance to break free. To breathe again. To find a way forward.

Two years ago, I made a mistake, a big one. Then I added a couple more just for good measure. I screwed up my life, but I survived. Now I have the opportunity for a fresh start. Two years in NZ. Away from the LA gossip, a chance to breathe, to rebuild my life. But I’m taking a new set of rules with me. I don’t do relationships. I don’t do commitment. I don’t do white picket fences. And I especially don’t do arrogant, holier-than-thou, smoking hot K9 officers who walk into my ER and rock my world.

Foxed: to be thrown into a state of uncertainty—flustered, bamboozled, bewildered, puzzled, vexed. A.k.a., me. Jed Marshall. Fifty-five-year-old successful classic-car mechanic; divorced, mostly closeted, and whose wholly inexperienced bisexuality has suddenly awakened after one smoldering look and said, "Damn, who’s the hottie?" Or words to that effect.