Meet Randi Burnett—she’s brilliant, she’s beautiful, and she works for the bride. Missing groom? Intoxicated in-laws? Crying ring-bearer? You name it, she wrangles it. Too bad her personal life isn’t thriving like her side gig as a bridesmaid for hire. Recently dumped, Randi throws herself into her biggest challenge yet when she’s hired as a maid of honor and pretend best friend for an ice queen bride. There’s just one problem—the best man is infuriating, overprotective, and anti-marriage.

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.

I'm addicted to my stalker. He watches me at night, sneaking in through my living room window and making my blood turn to ice. I feel him all around me as chills snake down my spine. Each night he becomes bolder, getting closer and welcoming himself into my bedroom, feeding his addiction.

According to this article, I might’ve already met my soulmate . . . And I missed my chance to find the love of my life. It's the cherry on top of an already doomed situation. If I don’t find my own date for my sister’s wedding, I’m stuck with the worst groomsman as a date. The answer is simple: go on a quest to reunite with my exes and figure out where everything went wrong—or right. The execution…not so much: Out of desperation, I accept help from the least likely source.

I can look, but I can’t touch. As the enforcer of The Lost Boys MC, I am used to getting my hands dirty. I’ve always kept my emotions in check. It helps given the position I am in. When I was tasked with watching over our President’s sister, I was ready for it. What I wasn’t ready for, is how that beauty would pull at my heart. I’ve known Ella for years.

My name is Savannah Miller. My father is the mayor of New York. One day, after my 27th birthday, I was grabbed from behind. A cloth sack was quickly pulled over my head, and I was taken from everything I'd ever known. I was beaten, starved, treated like an animal, and forced to live in a room with no windows. With no sense of time and no dignity left, I finally gave up hope and made a promise to myself to end it all. Unfortunately, it was going to be a slow process.

The first time I met sexy Stanton Baines, I nearly swallowed my tongue. But that was before he opened his mouth and directed his insolent comments at me. Not one to back down from a clash, I fired right back. From then on, Stanton pursued me with a vengeance. My heart had been trampled on enough. Except he didn’t give up. The more I sassed, the more he chased. After he had me wrapped around his pinkie, he left…as in, poofed right out of the country without so much as a farewell. I figured we were over. Boy, was I ever wrong.

Jess: Meet Mark Donovan. Ex-Army sniper. CEO of a multi-billion dollar global empire. Chiseled to the nth degree. And a man I want nothing to do with.I know the type. Dangerous. Sexy. A bad-boy who fills out a Tom Ford suit or pair of Calvin's in equally drool-worthy ways. At his core, the worst kind of heartbreaker. The kind who doesn't even know he did it.