Christmas is bad enough without all the music, frantic shopping sprees, and holiday parties. So many parties… with people you couldn’t stand in high school and definitely can’t stand now. Top of the list? Patty Harrison. She made my teen years miserable and, now that we’re adults, she’s trying to get me banned from the Christmas market. Even so, I’m not going to commit literal murder.

I hate my boss. Like, loathe him. Two years ago, he semi-broke my heart and he still doesn’t remember who I am. Okay so I was covered in electric blue body paint, and wearing a wig, but is that a good excuse to not remember the girl you said was your destiny? Now I’m stuck working for the jerk because only he can give me the job I really want—manager of his hotel. When he needs a fake fiancé for business reasons, there’s an easy solution—blackmail. He has to give me a trial run as hotel manager in return for wearing his ring.

My new boss—Alexander Bane. Aptly named since he’s the bane of my existence. Please isn’t in his vocabulary. He grunts, growls, and demands. If only he didn’t look so sexy when doing so. If only his mouth weren’t so addictive when kissing mine. He’s quickly becoming my favorite boss. Which is wrong. My new assistant is an unwelcomed distraction. Snarky, witty, always smiling. Constantly putting me in my place. Making me second-guess my decisions.

Every Kringle in Kringletown loved Christmas a lot. But Cole Black on Whistler Lane, unfortunately did not. Cole was a recluse during the Kringle Christmas season. No one knew why, no one could quite give a reason. Martha said it was because he was alone and very single. Mae believed it was because he was never named the town Kringle. But to me, the reason is a storyline far too sad. For at the age of eighteen, he lost both mom and dad. Whatever the reason, his parents or being single, He spends Christmas in the dark, hating the cheery people of Kringle.

You’d think nearly dying trying to get out of a too-tight gown in a dressing room and being saved by a strong, competent man was a good thing. Not so much, though, when that strong, competent man is your ex. Your secret ex. And the reason you need a gown is because you’re part of a charity auction. The charity auction where he gets into a bidding war to win you. And now, because you’re one of few female coaches in professional baseball, and he’s the captain of the local professional hockey team, and he paid a ridiculous sum of money for you…

Unexpectedly becoming an heiress should've made all my problems go away, but instead, I have three new, huge ones: two giant tortoises and a lean, mean two-hundred-pound hockey player named Mason. He's as hot as he is insufferable, and he would've made a fine Viking if he hadn't been born in the wrong century. He wants to buy my hockey team, won't take no for an answer, and is willing to do anything to get his way… no matter how dirty he has to play.

Fake date a grumpy boss for Christmas. Enjoy some forced proximity with a flirtatious best friend for Valentine's Day. Wake up married to an Irishman in Vegas for St. Patrick's Day. Every day is a hot and hilarious holiday with this family.

Marrying Beckett Coleman is the best idea I've had in years. I can grant my sick dad’s wish to walk one of his daughters down the aisle, and Beckett has my help solving a custody situation with his daughter. Our plan is to spend a year together, then part ways. Easy, especially since I'm not his type, and he's not mine either. He’s too quiet and too serious. And while he’s distractingly gorgeous, he’s also my brother’s teammate. Beckett is fake husband material, not the real deal. I just have to remember that.

A forbidden romance with my brother’s hockey teammate wasn’t on my to-do list when I moved across the country… Neither was getting locked out of a friend’s place wearing next to nothing. Or spending the night with the sexy stranger who rescues me. But I’m trying to get out of my comfort zone so getting out of the rest of my clothes with him seems like a good way to start. In the morning, I learn the filthy-mouthed man with the talented hands is not only the hotshot new hockey player on my brother’s team: he’s also–wait for it–my brand new roommate.

Faking an engagement to my secret high school crush was not on my to-do list when I landed for a short visit home. But when Amanda Anderson announces that she’s my fiancée, I take a leap and play along with the farce. Why? Because the Capulets and Montagues have nothing on the Andersons and Silvers of Tinsel, Michigan. In the name of bringing peace to our Christmas-themed hometown and ourselves, we’ll play the part of Romeo and Juliet.

They're both rich and powerful and have a debt to settle in the wealthy circles of NYC. Then there's me... the naive girl trying to make it in this city, pissed off and seemingly a willing pawn. It was supposed to be one night to get over one man by getting under another. Then one thing led to another, and it all spiraled out of control. It was never supposed to go this far.I was never supposed to fall for him. And he was never supposed to risk it all for me.

Transferring to UC Santa Mira is supposed to be my ultimate college experience—until housing falls through at the last minute. So when I overhear a group of guys complaining they need another roommate, I jump at the opportunity. They’re just football players. Even if one of them makes me weak in the knees, it doesn’t mean anything unless I let it. And I won’t. We want different things. Wanting each other doesn’t change that.

What can I say? I got cocky. One drunken bet and now I've gotta go girl-free for a whole frickin' month. A bet's a bet, though, and now I have to man up and take it… but it's gonna be impossible after last night. Ever since I saved that sassy little freshman from a carload of sleaze bags, she's been under my skin. It's not just the fact she's a hottie. It's more about the fact that she didn't bat her eyelashes or flirt with me. If anything, she insulted me to my face and told me she could take care of herself. And now I'm hooked.

You want to know the secret to everlasting happiness? Never fall in love. That was the wisdom my father imparted to us James boys after our mom died, and it’s a piece of advice that’s served me well. Until dear old Dad asks me for a favor over Sunday brunch. No big deal, right? I love making my old man happy. Except this “favor” is a lot more complicated than picking up his dry cleaning. Dad wants me to marry and provide a few heirs for the James empire, and he’s even done me the courtesy of handpicking my bride-to-be. Lucky me.

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.

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.

Five Years Earlier: Henry Dunne knows three things: that agreeing to host this raucous house party was a terrible idea, that he absolutely cannot show up to his nursing shift tomorrow with a hangover, and that the beautiful redhead in the corner will be sleeping in his bed tonight.

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.

Obituary writer Nadine Barbault doesn’t mind being called “Lady Death”. It suits the ice queen persona she’s cultivated to survive the fast-paced Toronto Herald. So when Nadine learns that famous (and reclusive) author Dot Voline has died, she doesn’t hesitate to run the obituary…only to discover that Dot is very much alive. Nadine’s screw-up has brought Wesley Chen of the rival Spear no end of joy—she’s been a thorn in his extremely ambitious side for years. But the renewed interest in Dot also surfaced chatter about a mysterious past scandal.

Hockey coach Ashley Jaswal doesn't take nonsense from anyone … except her overbearing and superstitious family. They believe she's a good luck charm for her brother Jas, the newest Vancouver Canucks draft pick, forcing Ash to attend all his games as he rises up the NHL ranks, sacrificing her personal life (not that she has one—who decided hockey season needed to be 10 months long anyway?). Ash also clashes with Jas’s teammate, Canucks captain Devin Snyder.

I admit it was me who shouted, “Looking good, hot stuff!” at Mr. Richmond this morning, but I didn’t mean it like that. Yes, Mrs. HR Lady, I know how it looks. Believe me, I am totally anti-catcalling, but that’s not what that was. Honest. I was paying him a compliment! That’s kind of what I do: I’m a proud, small-town Floridian, and Manhattan is craving some Florida sunshine—nothing like a sincere compliment to turn those New York frowns upside down!

The only thing we have in common is that we’re both tall. He wears bespoke suits; I wear flats with holes in them. He runs a big shot investment firm; I’m trying to start my own company with only bubble gum and circus peanuts. He likes to show up at my horrible dates and ruin them; I…pretended I hated when he did that but secretly was thrilled even though it was a little young adult fiction.

Rules are meant to be broken. Except for one: Women can't get enough peonies. Even the girl in front of me in line is admiring the peonies in my hand. While I need these particular flowers for my latest plot, I'll still give Meghan the biggest, thickest bouquet I can find. It's flattering how much she wants my peonies. And I don't mind personally delivering.

I kept smiling when I caught my fiancé coming down my sister’s chimney on Christmas Eve. I gave polite congratulations when they got engaged. And I even offered to help decorate for their Christmas wedding despite the fact that was supposed to be my dream wedding. But when my sister cuts up my great-grandmother’s one-hundred-year-old wedding dress and turns it into a skank show, even though that was the dress I was going to wear on my wedding day? Well, this elf is torching down the North Pole.

I've been pretending for so long it's become normal. To the average person, I have it all… a multi-million-dollar contract to play baseball, four homes, and—if I choose—my pick of any gorgeous woman on my arm. The only problem? The one woman I want—no, need—in my life completely erased me from her memory when we were only teens.

Welcome to life as a wedding planner for the rich and entitled of Manhattan. I’ve seen it all - from the nastiest bridezilla to the most overindulged billionaire. And Evan is the worst. Tall, dark, and handsome, he has a ridiculously ripped body under his formal suit and runs a massive hedgefund that’s actively making the world a worse place. I don’t even feel sorry for him when he walks away from the alter in a daze

When an older guy with a dirty grin and an expensive suit flirts with me from the next barstool, I don’t realize I’m about to have a one-night stand with the man I desperately want to work for. After a night that leaves my world (and body) shaken, I start my summer job housekeeping in a five-star hotel even though I’m determined to kickstart my career in tech. As I dust and polish the Park Suite, in walks Mr. Dirty Grin—now with an icy glare.

My brother’s best friend shattered my heart when he left to chase a dream of shoulder pads and glory. Now he’s back, but even worse, so is my crush. I’m not in love with Mason Sanderson anymore, so I keep telling myself. It doesn’t matter that he’s the face of every hero in any romance novel I’ve ever read. My new next-door neighbor is not the man of my dreams. The flutters and butterflies when I see him around don’t mean anything. As his best friend’s little sister, I’m the perfect choice when he needs a date for his former team’s fundraising event.

You’d think nearly dying trying to get out of a too-tight gown in a dressing room and being saved by a strong, competent man was a good thing. Not so much, though, when that strong, competent man is your ex. Your secret ex. And the reason you need a gown is because you’re part of a charity auction. The charity auction where he gets into a bidding war to win you. And now, because you’re one of few female coaches in professional baseball, and he’s the captain of the local professional hockey team, and he paid a ridiculous sum of money for you…

Being a single dad while managing one of the biggest businesses in New Orleans keeps me very busy. I spend my free time with my daughter, Bella—reading to her, styling her hair, or choosing nail polishes appropriate for an eight-year-old. But I’m okay with that, because she is my whole world. After my divorce, I made myself a promise: I wouldn’t date until Bella was older. Then, all my good intentions go up in smoke when I hire our newest chef for the flagship restaurant in the French Quarter.

Your wedding day is meant to be the happiest day of your life. Not the day you discover your groom is a cheating jerk. When I run, strong arms catch me. It’s just a shame they belong to my ex’s nemesis, Oliver Deubel. Rich and powerful, the man is sin in a suit. He’s also arrogant, demanding, and infuriatingly irresistible. When my wedding disaster goes viral and deportation hangs over my head, Oliver offers me a deal: help him ruin my ex in exchange for my visa. The fine print? Move in with him.

I'm not the kind of girl who expects happily ever after. In fact, I prefer my partners don't get too clingy. Don't get me wrong. I like a good night of loving, but beyond that, I’m happy to see them leave in the morning, without my number.

Football star. Single dad. And once, a long time ago, mine. I’ve spent the better part of a decade forgetting Ford Ellis. If he had just stayed away from Montana, I might have erased the memory of his striking blue eyes and rugged smile forever. Avoiding him was easy when the only place I saw his face was on ESPN—and a remote control could fix that problem.

Agent Bradly "Wolfe" Tucker has one case he cannot solve: six murdered women and a cold trail leading nowhere. When bodies with an eerily similar MO show up in Philadelphia, he volunteers to assist with the case. He figures he will spend a few days in Philly, hand the case off, and head back to his life in Seattle. But everything changes when he stops at a local bar, looks across the room, and sees her. Agent Leda Bailey has had a bad week. She has three dead women and no trail to follow. The clues don't add up, and nothing makes sense.

I don't do casual hookups, so I have no idea what to expect when I meet not one, but three hot guys who are into me. I'm an introverted, failing-book-shop-owning, romance-writer wanna be. But after my dating disaster at a hockey game all caught on the jumbotron I somehow have the attention of three men. Nathan Armstrong is the hot, older, sophisticated billionaire owner of the team.