I can explain the want ads for saucy male companionship I'm posting. I can even explain pretending to date the city's most notorious playboy. They say revenge is a dish best-served cold, but mine is going to be spicy, sizzling, and hilariously humiliating. My ex, Vaughn, cheated, stole from me, and worse. I refused to be the lovable, heartbroken heroine who hides under a pile of tissues and ice cream pints. Oh no, not me.

University life suited her: books and quiet evenings with her bunny were just fine, if a bit boring. Packs were messy, and she just needed to finish school, settle down with a nice alpha, and live her comfortably-ever-after. That had been the plan, before her best friend dragged her to a chaotic hockey game and threw a wrench in everything. When action on the ice takes an unexpected turn, #58 - Grayson Wood - comes crashing through the boards—and right through Molly’s dreams of a quiet life.

You know that instinct to run when something bad is coming? Yeah. I apparently missed out on that one. Because when Damon Rose came, instead of running, I got pregnant.

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!

Housekeeper for a stunningly handsome, male-model billionaire? Yep, that’s my job and it’s as dreamy as it sounds. I get to live in his ridiculously huge mansion, and all I have to do is take care of his mom and daughter, who are practically family. To top it off, the notoriously bossy Mr. King has been away for business since I started. But he came home today. Liam King looks like he stepped out of a GQ magazine, and the way he undresses me with his eyes should be illegal. He ignites my body. Every part of it. But It doesn’t matter how tempting he is. I can’t have him.

The list of reasons I should stay away from my neighbor is about as long as his... wrench. He’s a dirty mechanic, he’s a single dad, and he can’t seem to keep his shirt on for more than five minutes. Did I mention his ex-wife is my best friend? Yeah. Reid Riggins is absolutely, one hundred percent, the last person in the world I should get involved with. Even if he is heart-stoppingly gorgeous with strong, powerful hands that could rip my clothes off with ease. Not that I’ve imagined that, of course.

You see, I'm starting a new job on Monday at a sports TV network, and I was treating myself to a way too expensive cut at one of Miami's chicest hair salons in preparation when he walked in. By he, I mean, a tall, inked, European, and breathtakingly hot NBA superstar named Antoni Nowak. And Antoni happens to be interested in me—despite seeing me in that awful salon lighting, with wet hair, and draped in a smock.

Gwen Fox has two obsessions: her life's work and her hatred of Ty Sterling, the cynical billionaire who wants to shut down her program. About to lose everything, Gwen is forced to travel to Peru to change his mind. Her mission to save her team takes an unexpected turn when the pair find themselves stranded alone together in the jungle. Forced to rely on each other, the space between enemies and lovers begins to collapse. As their bickering reaches new heights, so does their undeniable attraction. Gwen starts to see that Ty's heart may not be made of stone after all.

The good news is I was recently named head coach of the Portsmouth Whalers hockey team, the youngest coach in the NHL for their newest expansion team. The bad news? Brace yourself. I wish I had when I found out my half-brother just took his life. When I got up off the floor I also found out he left me with a mountain of debt-and his baby daughter.

When grumpy, muscled-up artist Bennett Bishop bothers to speak, it’s usually to say something you’re not ready to hear. When he first speaks to Norah Ellis, a rambling runaway bride who hitchhikes a ride from him, it’s to tell her to get out of his truck and walk because she’s a pain in the a-s-s. By appearance, Norah Ellis is a fancy fashionista who’s spent the last several years living the good life in the city—expensive apartments, highbrow events, and a fiancé with wealth and good looks. The only problem is that she didn’t choose any of it for herself.

When I walked away from Makayla ten years ago, I swore I’d never look back. So did she, after the haunting lie I told her...But it was the only way to keep her safe and as far away from me as possible. She’s better off without me. I don’t care if I’m broken without her. But years later, when I’m hired by her agent to act as her bodyguard, I can’t keep myself away, especially when I learn how much danger she's in. Now she’s mine for a week, and I’m not going to let anything happen to her. Even if she seems intent on making my life a living hell.

Dean Sharp is a breathtakingly gorgeous, arrogant, and an asshole. At least that’s my first impression when he knocks out my abusive boyfriend. When we get home, I know my boyfriend’s going to make me pay for what Dean did. But Dean Sharp isn’t done meddling in my life. He grabs me from outside my motel, throws me in his car, and says I’m his hostage. He doesn’t want money, though. He wants me to pretend to be his fiancee so his daughter and brothers don’t suspect anything. And he says he won’t let me go until he’s sure I’ll never go back to my abusive boyfriend.

My whole life, I've come out on top. One of the finest players ever to grace the NHL? Check. Most prolific playboy with an enviable reputation between the sheets? Check. Award for the cockiest athlete in America? Also, check, and well deserved I'd say. So why does my life feel anything but the perfect image I project? And why won't the one woman who came crashing into my life and knocked me on my six-foot-four ass take me seriously?

There are a million reasons why I shouldn’t date Fletcher Huxley. He’s a growly-faced, stubborn-streaked, international rugby legend trying to revive his flailing career in the US after being canned by his team overseas. While he might have the good kind of thunder thighs, intriguing tattoos, and a booty of steel, he also holds the top position on my very short nemesis list thanks to what happened the first time we met.

I'm the notoriously angry, grouchy D.C. Eagles defenseman who just can’t keep his temper in check—a temper that leads to a fifteen-game suspension from the NHL. As if that’s not bad enough, I'm forced into a short-term youth-hockey coaching gig—which my manager swears will “rebuild my image.” But what I didn’t expect was for a gorgeous, spunky blonde to stomp onto the ice on day one and lecture me about being rude to her little brother.