“I’m hiring you to do more than guard her, Zander,” my new boss explained. “You’re gonna be her rock. Her human Valium. Her trusted friend. And she’s gonna be your mission from God.” “So I’m her babysitter?” “Her babysitter, her bodyguard, her f--king service doggie. Whatever she needs or wants, that’s what you’ll be. Anything except her booty call.” The vein in my new boss’s neck bulged. “Touch her and I’ll do more than fire your ass, Zander. I’ll rip off your balls.” My buddies laughed when I told them about my ridiculous new job. 

The first time you meet someone, you make eye contact. You smile, say hello. Should be simple, if you're anyone but me. The first time I met Dylan Reed, I found myself making eye contact with a different part of his body. You see, I'm very good at being shy, not to mention extremely well-versed in rambling nonsense and, unfortunately, rather highly skilled at making a fool of myself in front of a guy I'm attracted to. At the time, I knew nothing about him and thought none of what I said would matter since I'd never speak to him again. Turns out, I was very wrong.

Hockey player Leo Trevi has spent the last six years trying to do two things: get over the girl who broke his heart, and succeed in the NHL. But on the first day he's called up to the newly franchised Brooklyn Bruisers, Leo gets checked on both sides, first by the team's coach - who has a long simmering grudge - and then by the Bruisers' sexy, icy publicist - his former girlfriend, Georgia Worthington. Saying goodbye to Leo was one of the hardest things Georgia ever had to do - and saying hello again isn't much easier.

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'll be the first to admit that I live at extremes. After going 10 years locked in what felt like a dysfunctional marriage, I'm now decidedly boy-free. In nearly three years I've had no boyfriends, no flings, no dates, and no sex. For the sake of my dream career, the sacrifice has been easy. At least it was. Until he came along. Lukas Hendricks. He's rude, gorgeous, arrogant - a stone-carved wall of muscle and distraction. He's everything I know to avoid but there's no avoiding your next-door neighbor.

Badass Athlete: I dare you to... Delaney Shaw: Who is this? The late-night text is random, but "Badass Athlete" sure seems to know who she is...Delaney Shaw. Good girl. Lover of fluffy kitties and Star Wars. Curious. His dare? Spend one night in his bed - a night he promises will be unforgettable - and she can solve the mystery of who he is.   

We met in the least likely of places. It started out innocently enough. I was “ScreenGod”, and she was “Montana”, but of course those weren’t our actual names, just the virtual cloaks we hid behind. Logging in at night and talking to her was my escape - my sanctuary. Her real name was Eden, I’d soon come to find out. From the first time we connected online, I found myself transfixed. She was an addiction. At first, we knew nothing about each other’s real identities...and she was adamant that we keep things that way.

Thirty days ago, my boss, Mr. Wolf of Wall Street, came to me with an offer I couldn't refuse: Sign my name on the dotted line and pretend to be his fiancée for one month. If I agreed, he would let me out of my employment contract with a "very generous" severance package. The rules were pretty simple: No intimate kissing, no actual sex. Just pretend to love each other for the press, even though I've secretly wanted to knock that sexy smirk off his face since the first day we met.

I knew something was wrong the second she walked in the door tonight; I just couldn't put my finger on what it was. Same hair color. Same legs. Same face. Except...I look harder. At the small dimple beneath her lip that wasn't there the last time we went out. And her laugh - that laugh isn't as loud. This isn't the girl I've gone out with the past few weeks. It's her twin sister, and they've switched places on me.

I'm writing this letter because it's highly doubtful I'll ever garner the courage to say this to your face. So, here goes. We're totally wrong for each other. You're the proper single mum with a good head on your shoulders. I'm just the carefree British doctor passing through town and temporarily living in your converted garage until I head back to England. But here's the thing... for some bloody reason, I can't stop thinking about you in very inappropriate ways.

The last person Griffin Shipley expects to find stuck in a ditch on his Vermont country road is his ex-hookup. Five years ago they shared a couple of steamy nights together, but that was a lifetime ago. At 27 Griff is now the accidental patriarch of his family farm. Even his enormous shoulders feel the strain of supporting his mother, his three siblings, and a dotty grandfather. He doesn't have time for the sorority girl who has shown up expecting to buy his harvest at half price.

I couldn't have scripted a more perfect night. For one fantastic evening, at a masquerade party in the heart of Manhattan, I'm not the millionaire everyone wants a piece of. Fine - multimillionaire. But who's counting all those commas? Not me, and not the most intriguing woman I've ever met. And that's why I'm eager to get to know her more, since my mystery woman seems to like me for me, rather than for my huge...bank account. Everything's coming up aces. Until the next day, when things get a little complicated. (Newsflash - a lot complicated.)

They called him Mack Daddy. No, seriously, his name was Mack. Short for Mackenzie. Thus, the nickname. Perfect, right? So was he: perfect. The perfect physical male specimen. At the private school where I taught, Mack Morrison was the only man around in a sea of women.

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.... 

Traditions are important. Especially in the South. College football. Rivalries. Tailgating. Halftime shows. Some things just don’t change. Until Reese Holland shows up with her long legs and no-bullshit attitude to audition for the prestigious all-male Rodner University snare line. It doesn’t matter how much hazing she has to endure from Laird Bronson, with his narrowed green eyes and arrogant smirk. She wants that damn spot, and she’s more than good enough to earn it. She expects there to be tension. Even friction. But not sparks hot enough to burn the entire campus down.