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.

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!

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.

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.

I have two goals this season: 1. Be named captain of the Seattle Serpents. 2. Stay single. I'm right on track . . . until she happens. Auden Sinclair.

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.

One of the cardinal rules of matchmaking I was positive I'd never break. That is until Nathan Wilder walked into Love Moore Matchmaking Agency, needing my help to find him the one. A tall order to ask since he was the most hated man in the NHL. Broody. Crude. Abrasive. The man was a six-foot-three walking red flag. Right off the bat, every fiber of my being told me he'd be trouble. He wasn't looking for love. It was all a PR stunt to clean up his image so he could keep playing for the Boston Guardians. But there was something in his sad, soulful eyes that just pulled me in.

Dancing on bar tops means the night is going great. Exiting the bar hauled over the shoulder of Heston University's infamous hockey captain? Not my idea of a good time. But my would-be knight would have to do. I needed an escape route from my brother… his biggest rival. Easton Blake is the perfect reminder of why I avoid hockey players. Cocky. Frustratingly sexy. Accustomed to every girl in his orbit falling for his charm. With his sultry smile that tells me he knows all the ways to make girls come undone with his touch, I'm almost the next score on his stats.

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?

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.

I’m a curvy sports geek. Liam’s a hockey god. He’s way out of my league… My brother’s best friend is acting really weird. Flowers keep showing up. He sends me Cameos and concert tickets. Then, there’s the job offer… Well, first, there was the fact that he tracked me down to NYC. It’s really complicated, okay? But so are my feelings for him. I’ve been ignoring them for so long that they became a wall I’m comfortable hiding behind.

Once, I knew this girl who sent a video of herself to her brother's best friend…while she was hopped up on pain meds. And he didn’t reciprocate her feelings. Sounds like a hilarious story, right? WRONG. This really happened…to ME, Melanie Taylor. That was five years ago, so I’m over it—over him. At least, I thought I was…until West got traded to the D.C. Eagles and moved to the same city as me! Oh yeah, did I forget to mention my brother’s best friend is Weston Kershaw? An incredibly talented and famous professional hockey player?

Seven years ago, my best friends and I made a promise: No matter what, we would never date one of the King brothers. Even if they grew up to become megafamous, gorgeous, heart-stopping billionaires. Even if they crawled on their knees and begged for forgiveness. But guess who just flew back into our lives in a private jet? And guess who just showed up to my job on my first day? Richard. King. Fortunately, it takes two seconds for Richard to reveal he hasn’t changed. Conceited. Cocky. Rude. Unfortunately, he’s also the kind of gorgeous that’s borderline offensive.

Easton Hayes has been my knight in shining hockey skates since he saved my life. This devastatingly handsome grump may be everyone's favorite goalie, but to me, he's my strength when demons haunt my dreams. And okay—so maybe he's also the only man I've ever loved. But he doesn't need to know that. We're friends. It works for us.

Welcome to Honey Creek, Illinois, where life was as sweet as the town's name suggested. That was until Mr. Fine Dining himself, Alex Ramírez, rolled into town with a permanent scowl. Even worse, he decided to park his snooty five-star restaurant across from my cozy dog daycare. He was tall, dark, and about as warm as a frozen entrée. After one too many unpleasant interactions, I was determined to stay out of his way and to keep him out of mine. But fate had a quirky sense of humor.

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.

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.

For some reason, my new boss has it out to get me. Innocent little me? I'm just a petite, talented, darling little thorn in his side. Okay, my words, not his. But he can't fire me unless I quit—long story. The joke's on him because I couldn't even quit chewing gum, let alone my dream job. So, I thought I had it handled.

My brother's best friend will do anything to win. Even if it means pretending to date me–his sworn enemy. But claiming my V-card wasn't part of the plan. He's Goalie-zilla of the Houston Heatwave and the man I can't stand. Number 33. Ryker-freakin-Balinger. The only things we have in common are the temporary roof we share and the arena where we both work. Dealing with this muscular, tatted-up grump is the last thing I need. But he needs good press. And I want revenge on the team's newest arrival. So this relationship is all for show.

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.

Mission: Survive my best friend's wedding, where I must play nice with my ex and his perfect new girlfriend. Strategy: Bring the hottest fake boyfriend on the planet. Target: Grady Rock. Master baker. Dimples. Muscles. The unicorn of fake boyfriends. Complication: Wyatt Morgan. My brother's best friend. My sworn enemy. Military man. Sexy as hell single dad. The man I let into my panties for one night of hot hate sex after my ex dumped me.

Seven years ago, my best friends and I made a promise: No matter what, we would never date one of the King brothers. Even if they grew up to become megafamous, gorgeous, heart-stopping billionaires. Even if they crawled on their knees and begged for forgiveness. But guess who just flew back into our lives in a private jet? And guess who just showed up to my job on my first day? Richard. King. Fortunately, it takes two seconds for Richard to reveal he hasn’t changed. Conceited. Cocky. Rude. Unfortunately, he’s also the kind of gorgeous that’s borderline offensive.

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.

After a nasty break-up with her ex, moving to Orchid Beach was like a breath of fresh air. Harper landed a brand new job as a sports photographer for a professional hockey team. It was just what she needed to get away from everything she had ever known. One drunken night at a club had her sneak into another room with a stranger. But that stranger ended up being no one other than Nico Cirone. The star rookie player for the Orchid City Vipers. The same team that she was now working for.

Griffin Martin's the biggest jerk in the emergency department and I'm stuck working with him. No one else will have him. Behind his back, we call him Doctor Delight, and that's not a compliment. I can't lose this job, but he tried my patience and finally, when I'd had enough, I stood up to him. In front of everyone—the chief physician, the nurse in charge, and patients everywhere. What does he dare to do? He doesn't fire me. Instead, he pursues me.

I had no choice but to disappear that night. It ripped my frickin' heart out. Now I'm moving my headquarters to Boulder with one objective: Win Mandy back. Damn, this is going to be hard. She's feisty and sassy and doesn't obey my orders. She wears short skirts on purpose—just to drive me wild. My dark past is following me. This fake engagement will keep her safe. But I'll show her how real my love is.

Meet Holly Hughes, a moderately successful teen advice columnist living in a studio apartment on the Upper East Side with her boyfriend Stephen. She has it all, but at the ripe age of thirty-one, she wants more. She wants to be married, she wants a family, and she's going to have it all with Stephen. At least, that's what she thought, until Stephen announces he's gay, and the domino effect of unfortunate events begins.

My escape plan seemed foolproof—retreat to my brother's empty apartment after catching my ex with another man. But I stumble into an unexpected complication: his hockey player roommates... and I'm stark naked. Despite my mortifying entrance, and against my better judgment, they're willing to let me stay but with a few rules: 1. No funny business. 2. No telling the team captain—aka my brother, Harrison. 3. It's temporary until I can find somewhere else to live.

Greed. Power. Sin. It all comes with the gavel. Blurs the lines between church and state. But the Knightdale Charter of the Satan's Knights MC is my life. And I'd do anything for this club. Like letting the best woman I ever had slip through my fingertips. A sinfully beautiful spitfire, she's my better half in every way. My twin flame. My everything. My biggest regret. But there's no making things right between us.

I'm the face of the NHL. The golden boy with quick hands and a million-dollar smile the fans adore. My contract is up at the end of the season, and with playoffs starting, I have to be on my best behavior. Keep my head down and respect the press when they shove their microphones beneath my nose. This isn't my first rodeo, so it should be easy. Right?

He’s evil incarnate, cloaked in a beautiful disguise. My father uprooted our family, forcing me to relocate to America. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’s making me marry the son of a psychopath. Maxim Volkov. Heir to the Volkov Bratva. I’d rather die than be shackled to a man so evil. A man who has no soul. His piercing blue eyes are as cold as his stony heart. And he’s not exactly thrilled, either. My life has never felt so hopeless.