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.

I thought I was late for my cousin’s wedding, but the wedding turned out to be for me... If I’d known the sexy arrogant guy in the elevator was my future husband, I probably would have turned and ran. My own father sold me out, promising my hand in marriage to Alexei Koslov, a sexy, arrogant bratva boss. The last thing I want to do is get married, but nobody says no to the Koslov bratva.

To the outside world, I'm known only as Z. The enforcer. A widower with nothing to lose. An ex-SEAL, sworn to keep one vow: Protect the D'Angelo's at all costs. I'm not a good man, and I never claimed to be. Protecting her was second nature. Nothing more. Claiming her was just a one-night escape. But she made one mistake....A cardinal sin. Slipping away on her terms. Not mine. No strings. No commitments. No names? No way. There's just one price for my protection. And it's her. Full steam ahead.

There’s nothing like getting caught in the middle of an FBI raid to change your life.... That’s what happens to Gabrielle Carpino. Just when she forced herself to move on with life after tragedy touched her family, she finds herself thrown into a tailspin so swift, she can’t find her bearings.

Josephine: It was the worst blind date in the history of the universe, until Holden Winters swept in and rescued me. Are you kidding? Holden Winters? A scion of the notorious Winters family, Holden is gorgeous, wealthy, and brilliant. He dates socialites and pop stars, not computer science grad students more comfortable in a hoodie than couture. Our night together was a fantasy...and a huge mistake.

Danny Walker, my big brother’s arrogant, powerful, handsome, and completely unobtainable best friend. He’s a ruthless tech tycoon, and I take calls from angry clients who can’t reset their passwords. He lives in a Grade II listed mansion with holiday homes worldwide, and I rent a room in a flat-share with my best friend and mice.

I’m nothing but a payment, bartered to the most powerful cartel in the northern hemisphere and forced to marry a man I do not know. My father sold me to save his own skin. He might as well have ushered me to the gates of hell. The Marino family is sadistic. If rumors are true, they’ll own me, use me, control me, and strip me of every freedom I’ve taken for granted. I’ll be a shiny new toy in a dark and deadly underworld.

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.

Rule Number 1: Do Not Sleep with Clients. I was the best agent in the industry. More ruthless and cutthroat than any arrogant bastard you'd ever met. The top actors in Hollywood came to me to get signed. When I saw James Ryne, America's Sweetheart, standing across the bar, I wanted her body like I'd never wanted anything before. I broke rule number one. But, after all, I was a man. No one had ever mistaken me for a saint.

Charming, captivating, seductive—and a cold-blooded killer. I married the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva anyway. I had to, it was part of the deal. Now, I’m faking marital bliss as I tremble with fear, and I cannot wait to be out of the clutches of this ruthless man.

Lana Fleming’s sister has vanished from the set of TV’s hottest show, and no one seems to care. Desperate for answers, Lana sneaks in as an extra, only to get stranded with Griffin Hart, an A-list action star with a reputation for good abs and bad decisions. Though Griffin didn’t expect to be cast as a librarian’s sidekick in a real-life thriller, he’s weirdly into it—and into her. Even more unsettling—she sees right through his playboy persona. But their meet-cute soon turns deadly when they uncover a Hollywood scandal for the ages.

It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and Charlotte and Seth are not looking for romance. Armed with emotional-support bear spray, Charlotte is in self-imposed isolation and on guard from men. Having a stalker can do that to a person’s nerves. Just across the hall and giving off woodsy vibes is Seth, a recently divorced arborist. As in today recently. Heights, he’s fine with. Trust? Not so much.

Liv’s happy with life in her thirties. She has two cats, one BFF, and no boyfriend, which is just how she likes it. Plus, she loves working at a not-for-profit software company where she can be her authentically autistic self. This is her happy ever after. But when her beloved firm merges with a repulsive rival, Liv finds herself competing with her sort-of-ex for the top job. Sure, Finn had been Liv’s best friend, with his nerdy good looks and their shared love of Tolkien, but there was that one night, their song, and … well, she doesn’t like to talk about it.

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.

After watching my mother succumb to a mysterious illness, I promised myself two things. I'd find the cure for what ravaged her and leave the godforsaken city where she abandoned me. Four years later, I received an acceptance letter from Dracadia University, one of the oldest most prestigious schools in the country. Nestled on a secluded island off the coast of Maine, it's rumored to be haunted by the souls of the mental patients exiled there centuries before, those whose bones are said to make up the island's white sandy shores. And restless ghosts aren't even its most daunting peculiarity.