Rule number one of Wall Street: don’t fall in love with your billionaire boss. I hate my boss. The Wall Street tycoon is a jerk. A world-class alpha-hole. Devastatingly handsome but terribly flawed. He goes through assistants like I go through vanilla lattes, and I need this job. But I went to school with bullies like him, so I’m not afraid. I hate my attraction to him. How sparks fly when we spar. The way he barks orders and dresses me down. I hate how I fantasize about him during and after work hours.

I rejected my fated mate, and didn’t regret it for a second. Until now. Shipped off to Ravenscroft University, a graduate school for the supernatural elite, I have a lot to live up to. As heir to America’s most powerful pack, I was locked away. Not to be protected, but because I was born broken. A disappointment. A wolf who couldn’t shift. This is supposed to be my fresh start, but my past won’t leave me alone. Not when he’s here.

It was supposed to be a joke: Give my best friend raunchy toys for her bridal shower and embarrass her in front of her family. But when my package is wrongly delivered to my gorgeous, mysterious neighbor, I'm the one who ends up mortified. I sneak over to his place to try stealing it back before he finds it. The problem is I get caught mid-heist... And then he makes me stay for dinner. Dinner leads to dessert, and dessert leads to... other dessert, if you get my drift. Several courses of sweet, sinful temptation.

I walk into the bar with my pack, and I scent her straight away. She’s lying behind the counter with blood trailing from an injury to her head. My desire to protect her stuns me almost as much as her beauty. But it’s the smell of her blood that stuns me the most—it’s something not quite human. When she wakes up, her fear tells me all I need to know. She definitely thinks she’s mortal. I choose to disagree.

Unlike other werewolves, I never wanted a mate. I would rather teach stupid mortals than inherit my family business as my father wished. Because I hated my blood. But I met her, in a bar, on a chaotic night. She's so distinguished, and her scent drove me crazy. With all my strength, I forced myself to leave because I didn't want to entangle this innocent girl in my abyss. But she reappeared in my class. Loving her seemed to have already been written in my genes, and I couldn't resist her no matter how hard I tried.

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.

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.

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.