Sometimes you need to crash a funeral to experience happiness. At least Kissimmee Singh, aerial artist for Singh Circus, the most sought-after traveling circus of all time, keeps telling herself that’s why she crashes funerals. In reality, she’s lost and confused. Sometimes it’s nice to experience other people’s grief and be reminded that life isn’t as bad as it could be.

You know when you see that big red flag, and you think to yourself, I should probably not go anywhere near there? Yeah, Quincy Carter ignored that big red flag. He walked right up to that red flag, waving blatantly in the wind, and kissed the holy hell out of her. Sure, he probably should've arrested her for breaking a restraining order. He probably also should've stopped her from continuing to break that restraining order. Yet he can't.

There was right, there was wrong, and then there was the in-between. The place where normal people reside, understanding that there are two sides to every coin. People that do bad things for good reasons. People that do bad things for bad reasons. First, I knew that Shasha Semyonov was a bad man. One that did bad things for bad reasons. That didn’t mean that I was rational when it came to him.

The problem with Wake was that he was understandable. He was the type of villain who literally scared the absolute shit out of you because you knew that under the right circumstances, you could end up exactly like him.

After a horrible marriage, Haggard has zero plans of ever finding a woman again. One-night stands not counting, he adores his life as a single man. There are no expectations. No "where are yous" and "are you coming homes". The life he chooses to live is a simple one. Until he makes a huge mistake, and he steps over that line between "daughter’s best friend" and "a woman he desperately wants". Before long, he can’t stop thinking about her. Can’t stop wanting her. Can’t stop feeling things for her that a man 20 years her senior should never feel for a girl he watched grow up.

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.

We're not free to give into this. She's 19, and I'm 38. And I'm her boyfriend's father. Unfortunately, they both just moved into my house.

Eight years ago I fell into a secret summer fling with my best friend’s little sister before our lives went in different directions. Now, I’m the grumpy to Juliet’s sunshine on a popular dating podcast we host, and when a wealthy fan gives us a charming coastal cottage as the biggest thank you ever, we head to the town where I grew up to give it a makeover. And find the house has only one bed. Located under a mirrored ceiling.

Sometimes you need to crash a funeral to experience happiness. At least Kissimmee Singh, aerial artist for Singh Circus, the most sought-after traveling circus of all time, keeps telling herself that’s why she crashes funerals. In reality, she’s lost and confused. Sometimes it’s nice to experience other people’s grief and be reminded that life isn’t as bad as it could be.

You know when you see that big red flag, and you think to yourself, I should probably not go anywhere near there? Yeah, Quincy Carter ignored that big red flag. He walked right up to that red flag, waving blatantly in the wind, and kissed the holy hell out of her. Sure, he probably should've arrested her for breaking a restraining order. He probably also should've stopped her from continuing to break that restraining order. Yet he can't.

The problem with Wake was that he was understandable. He was the type of villain who literally scared the absolute shit out of you because you knew that under the right circumstances, you could end up exactly like him.

Taos was tired. Tired of everything that came with living. Not to the point where he was suicidal or anything, but tired enough that he just didn’t give a crap anymore. He’d seen all the ugliness this world had to offer due to his job as a police officer for way too many damn years of his less than stellar life.

Truth Alan Reacher was a biker. He was a bladesmith. What he was not, was a fool. The moment he walked in on his girl screwing his cousin on his bike, he does the only thing he can do. He ditches the bike seat - and the girl - riding right out of her life without a backwards glance. That is, until he's forced to attend the marriage of his cousin to his cheating ex-girlfriend. The only bright spot of the entire thing was watching some chick go off on the groom - the groom's ex-fiance - right in the middle of the bouquet toss.