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.

Noah Scotch is revered in Boston, a veritable god on the ice. I’m a nerdy, newly minted college professor who would rather color code my planner than hit the club scene. Noah shouldn’t look at me twice but when he does, I falter. Who can blame me? The sweet talker with the deliciously chiseled abs and sinful chocolate eyes is a force. On and off the ice. One hot and intense night with Noah has me second guessing my lack of a dating life. Friends with benefits? He offers, I dive in headfirst.

Being a single dad while managing one of the biggest businesses in New Orleans keeps me very busy. I spend my free time with my daughter, Bella—reading to her, styling her hair, or choosing nail polishes appropriate for an eight-year-old. But I’m okay with that, because she is my whole world. After my divorce, I made myself a promise: I wouldn’t date until Bella was older. Then, all my good intentions go up in smoke when I hire our newest chef for the flagship restaurant in the French Quarter.

Maybe Colson Delacourt teasing those nosy ladies in the coffeeshop with the plot of his next murder mystery was a bad idea. But does that mean he deserves to be arrested for attempting to kill his elderly neighbor? Why won’t the police believe he has nothing to do with her getting hurt? That detective Harper Rose won’t listen to him—he’s so annoying and arrogant. And sexy and gorgeous.

What's worse than having Rider Kingston, the star quarterback, give you the big brushoff because he doesn't want to get serious? You'd probably think living across the street from him where you get a firsthand view of his hookups, right? That's what I thought. Until someone drops off a baby with a note pinned to her blanket that says one of those jocks - either Rider or one of his roommates - is the father. The problem? Baby mama doesn't mention which of these numbskulls is the sperm donor. I wouldn't care about their paternity problems - except my brother lives there too.

Kettle had it all. Until he didn't. He lost it all in a moment. One heart stopping, soul shattering moment, and there wasn't a single thing he could do about it. From that day forward, he stayed away from relationships. Then he responded to a possible fire and there she was, rocking his world when he didn't want it to be rocked. Adeline was just a schoolteacher. She lived a boring life. Until she stole something. And it didn't have anything to do with the sexy firefighter's heart. Oh, she stole that, too, even if he didn't want it to be stolen.