Paul Morgan has been running his luxury camping tour business in Kakadu National Park for the last five years, taking small groups glamping, hiking, climbing, and swimming. It’s been a busy five years—a hard five years—as he tried to forget the man he left behind.

The job at Sunday Orchard was supposed to be temporary. A chance to gain some work experience, to have some fun. I had not expected to be welcomed into a family of gorgeous and weirdly efficient lumberjack-types, or to find purpose in the tiny Vermont town whose claim to fame seemed to be apple-based products and copious amounts of charm. And I most definitely hadn’t expected to fall for Knox Sunday, my grumpy, burly, fifteen-years-older, reluctant roommate, with his infuriating lectures, his hot-as-fire body, his superior attitude - I’ve never been one to put down roots.

Gideon Ellery had the perfect life. Nice house, great job, and a long-time boyfriend. Weeks after adopting his nephew, his boyfriend splits, leaving Gideon a single father to a newborn. Overwhelmed, sleep deprived, and unsure how to navigate fatherhood, he’s asked to return to the office. He’s overwhelmed and at his breaking point.

Malachi Keogh finds himself in a job he neither wanted nor asked for when his father, boss of Sydney’s postal service, sends him to the end of the business line, a.k.a. the Dead Letter Office. Malachi expects it to be tedious and boring, but instead discovers a warehouse with a quirky bunch of misfit co-workers, including a stoic and nerdy boss, Julian Pollard. Where Julian is calm and ordered, Malachi is chaos personified, but despite their outward differences, there’s an immediate chemistry between them that sends Malachi’s head - and heart - into a spin.

Resigned to living a sexless, loveless life, Doctor Nathan Tierney knows something is missing. In a rash decision, he leaves his life-consuming job at Mass General Hospital, Boston, to be the small-town doctor in Belfast, Maine. With the job comes a house, and with the house comes a handyman-painter. Trent Jamieson, a nomadic artist, and his dog Bentley, are offered free accommodation for the few weeks he fixes up the hospital-owned house. Nathan is transfixed by this free-spirited, undeniably gorgeous man.

Conor: It starts with a drunken text pic. The kind I would normally never send. Only, instead of it going to the flirty hotel bartender, it goes to some random stranger who actually responds. Wells: The first thing I notice about Conor Newell when he sits down in my high-rise conference room is how delightfully nervous he is. Then I see his tie. The same geeky tie that’s held hostage on my phone. The one that belongs to my anonymous late-night texter. And it changes everything.

Opposites attract in this fun prequel novella set during an unexpected Tennessee snowstorm. Enjoy forced-proximity and enemies-to-lovers tropes as this brand new couple finds love among the zany, meddling residents of our beloved Licking Thicket.

His own marriage was a whirlwind affair that ended before the ink could dry on the wedding certificate. Nevertheless, even with his divorce pending, he’s getting by. Or at least he was until he finds himself snowed in at a remote Scottish hotel with the wedding party from hell, a terrible ABBA tribute band, and his soon-to-be ex-husband.

Ivyrson is the quintessential Scrooge when it comes to anything having to do with the holidays. However, the chance to win a hefty chunk of money and free repairs on his old home is enough to entice the man to take part in a holiday-themed reality game. Emory has had a crush on his older brother’s best friend for years. When the chance to help Ivy possibly win a reality game comes along, Emory doesn’t hesitate. After all, that’s what friends are for.

As a founding member of The Vers, a queer podcast I host with my three best friends, I’m "The Loner"—quieter than the others, and except for them, I don’t let myself get too close to people. Most of them just let you down anyway, or maybe it’s just that something about me chases people away.

My loser high school friend never deserved him anyway. If I’d had the chance, I would have locked Remy down years ago. Only, when the party leads to a drunken kiss, going on their honeymoon, and sharing their marital bed, I have to say, I’m not entirely sad that their wedding went up in flames.

Charlie Yates is desperate. It's almost Christmas and his flight home from college has been delayed. For days. Charlie promised his little sister Ava he'd be home for her first holiday season since going into remission from leukemia. Now he's stuck on the opposite coast and someone else grabbed the last rental car. Someone he hasn't even spoken to in four years. Someone who broke his heart.

As a 42-year-old single father, the last thing I expected before Christmas was for my daughter to sign me up for a community matchmaking event. The Christmas Buddies program becomes a challenge I can't wait to overcome when I realize the man that has been assigned as my buddy for the holiday season is none other than Paxton Montgomery. He's massive, grumpy, incredibly gorgeous (in a lumberjack kinda way), and also—weirdly enough—the only person in town who doesn't like me.

The Dean of Admissions at the girls’ dream school says only families with two parents need apply, and in desperation, Grant makes me a different offer: to be his on-paper husband. With things heating up between us and my heart hanging in the balance, how can I convince Grant to make me the proposal I really want: to turn this marriage of convenience into a real-life happily-ever-after?

Milo. Unusual. Quirky. Different. I’ve heard it all. I’ve accepted I’m not for everyone. When I find out I inherited a bookstore and apartment on a small East Coast island, I jump at the chance for a new life. Turns out I’ve also inherited a sexy, tattooed guy who not only rents the space next to my store but my apartment too. Gideon. I wasn’t looking for a roommate, but it’s not like I can stay at Milo’s place while he’s banished to a hotel. According to Milo, we’re bestie goals. And if he doesn’t wear pants at home, who am I to complain?