Célian Laurent. Manhattan royalty. Notorious playboy. Heir to a media empire...and my new boss. I could have impressed him, if not for last month's unforgettable one-night stand. I left it with more than orgasms and a pleasant memory - namely, his wallet. Now he's staring me down like I'm the dirt under his Italian loafers, and I'm supposed to take it. But the thing about being Judith "Jude" Humphry is I have nothing to lose. Brooklyn girl. Infamously quirky. Heir to a stack of medical bills and a tattered couch. 

I shouldn't have remembered him. He was just a guy who walked through a restaurant. I didn't know his name. We never made eye contact. There was no connection between us at all. But I could feel him. The tingle down my spine. The command in his presence. The snap of tension in the air around him. That was the first time I saw him, and I was captivated.

It all started with a mysterious blue note sewn into a wedding dress. Something blue. I’d gone to sell my own unworn bridal gown at a vintage clothing store. That’s when I found another bride’s “something old.” Stitched into the lining of a fabulously feathered design was the loveliest message I’d ever read: Thank you for making all of my dreams come true. The name embossed on the blue stationery: Reed Eastwood, obviously the most romantic man who ever lived. I also discovered he’s the most gorgeous. If only my true-love fantasies had stopped there.

It should have been easy. I needed the money. He needed a babysitter to keep him from snorting himself to death. I was cherry-picked especially for him. Responsible. Optimistic. Warm. Innocent. The worst part is that I should have known better. Alex Winslow. British rock star. Serial heartbreaker. Casanova with whiskey eyes. “Don’t get near the devil in a leather jacket. He’ll chew you up and spit you out.” Guess what? I didn’t listen. I signed the contract. World tour. Three months. Four Continents. 100 shows. My name is Indigo Bellamy, and I sold my soul to a tattooed god. 

My resignation letter was rejected by my boss with his sexy, trademark smirk and an "I highly suggest you read the fine print of your contract...." So, I did. And now I've realized that unless I fake my death, poison him, or find a way to renegotiate my impossible contract, I'm stuck working under one of the cockiest and most ruthless bosses in New York. Then again, I thought that was the case until he called me late last night with an emergency proposition....

At first glance I probably seem like any good-looking guy in their late twenties. I have an obscene amount of confidence, a tattooed body sculpted by the Nordic gods, and I love the ladies as much as they love me. But I'm not the average single guy. I'm Crown Prince Magnus of Norway, and my latest scandal just landed my entire royal family in hot water. Now the only way the monarchy can save face is for me to smarten up - publicly. If I don't, I'll no longer be heir apparent to the throne. So it's either I abdicate my future role as King, or I get married. 

BRIAR - I was infatuated with Asher Kelley the moment he came tumbling through my brother’s window five years ago. Even bruised and bloodied, he was the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen. We couldn't ever be together. I was too young, and he was too untouchable. He was too troubled, and I was too naive. ASHER - I was drawn to Briar Vale from the first time she looked up at me with stars in her blue eyes. We could never be together. I was too old and she was too off limits.... 

They say love and hate are the same feelings experienced under different circumstances, and it's true. The man who comes to me in my dreams also haunts me in my nightmares. He is a brilliant lawyer. A skilled criminal. A beautiful liar. A bully and a savior, a monster and a lover. Ten years ago, he made me run away from the small town where we lived. Now, he came for me in New York, and he isn't leaving until he takes me with him.

Some women just have it - that combination of stunning looks and sexual confidence that brings men to their knees. Not me. My last boyfriend once fell asleep while we were...you know. Not my proudest moment. And my crush on my hot, arrogant, and oh-so-unattainable CEO? Never going to happen. But one night, after too much wine, I find myself online, creating a profile for a sex kitten called SweetVixen. Safe behind my computer screen, I'm suddenly the seductive goddess of my wildest imagination.

Heartless. Ruthless. Stone-cold killer. That's me. I destroy anything in my path to get what I want. Then she showed up. Olivia Bell. She's sweet and innocent and in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now she's mine. My property. I own her. Given to me as a bargaining chip. She's not a part of my plans, but plans change. Her pouty lips and gorgeous curves beg me to break her. Taking her lush, curvy body and ravaging it for all it's worth would be easy, but I want to earn her submission. It's addictive. I want it. I want her.

The most valuable lesson Emerson Moore ever learned was from her parents: Never get too attached to someone else. That's why this hard-partying college student plays by her own code of bedroom conduct, refusing to stay with the same guy for too long. She gets all the pleasure of having a good time without the messiness of a relationship. So what if frat-house hopping has earned her a certain reputation around campus? At least no one gets hurt this way - especially her.

I didn't know darkness and evil lurked inside me until I had to murder to survive, forced to become my own worst enemy. With so much blood on my hands, I was surprised I could still see my own skin. I killed, I tortured, I loved. I played God while I was rotting in a fiery inferno. Thriving on control and power was the only way I knew how to live. There were no other options. If you weren't my friend, you were my foe. If you weren't with me, you were against me - traitors, as I called them. There were no imaginary lines. I'd crossed them all. 

Joyce loves Luca. Luca loves Joyce. Frank loves his family and will do anything to protect it, even if it means taking away his brother's reason for existing. Falling takes only one step, one movement of the chess piece, and in Joyce's fall she took more than just one heart with her. Go back to the beginning, where the drama of the Elect all starts. Go back to the first part of the story, where true love tried to conquer all. Where true love failed.

Lorenzo Gambini is bored. So f--king bored. Most people either annoy him or avoid him, afraid to face him. Figuratively. Literally. With his face partially disfigured, scarred, he looks every bit the monster the stories make him out to be: the notorious Scar. They say he's a sociopath. Maybe he's a psychopath. Whatever path he's on, people tend to stay far away from it. Until one day, a young woman bumps right into him - a woman just as fed up with life, but for much different reasons.

You know how people say you can never believe what you read on the interwebs? That a hot guy online is probably a creeper with a beer gut and a shoe fetish, not the sexy beast he pretends to be? So I had no clue that the anonymous blogger who contacted my law firm about his naughty website would be droolworthy in real life. Not that I'm interested in him in that way. Attorneys can't go around sleeping with their clients. Not even if he is the most beautiful man I've ever met and so ridiculously smart he makes my nerdy-girl heart sigh.