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.

For years, I've kept myself safe from my small pack's males, hiding in sewers and sleeping in trees to keep their teeth out of my neck. They don't really want me, just the power and prestige that comes with winning the hunt. I only want to survive. In three days, at the Enforcer Games, I'll have one chance to escape. But when the Games begin, and the most powerful shifters in the world arrive at my packlands and scent me, a new hunt begins.

The Mountain Pack is everything I hoped for: a haven where every shifter has the same rights. Pack laws are respected and followed without fail. Even the Alpha must obey them, or suffer dire consequences. But the law says I'm not allowed to live here. When the corrupt leader of the Council delivers an ultimatum calling for the death of one of my mates, there are no good options. If we stay, it means war. If we sneak away, we become rogues. No matter what, my dream of a safe home is ruined.

All she wants is a choice in her future pack, and she refuses to be a bargaining chip at the hands of powerful men. She won't settle for anything less than true love. Running away and taking a job at the exclusive, high-end, Omega club, the High Roller, seems like the only way she can find some freedom. But when a striking man steals her attention on her first night working at the club, everything flips upside down. What starts as an exclusivity contract turns into so much more. The pack she was running from might just be the one she falls for or winds up destroying.

Being dumped sucks. Being dumped after four years and getting kicked out of the house? That sucks more. Sadly, I can't avoid him forever. Not when he's the best man in my sister's wedding. But like hell am I facing him alone. So how can a painfully single Omega get out of this mess? Not a clue, but I'll tell you what not to do. Ready? Don't hire a pack of male escorts to take you to the wedding. If you do, you can't sleep with them. No matter how incredible they smell or how well they treat you.

I always thought I’d start the apocalypse. Instead I’ve been asked to help end it. How does one stop the end of the world, you might ask? You gotta knock up Lucifer’s vessel before he does. I know, I know. I was surprised too. But let me tell you, if ever there was an incubus made for the job, it’s me. With a name like Sin, you’d think this should have been the easiest task I’d ever been assigned. And you’d be correct. Except said vessel is a beautiful and dangerously powerful succubus in her own right. Oh, and she’s not interested.