Who are we? Nobody really knows. We’re seven powerful heirs to empires, ruling Manhattan from our thrones on Park Avenue. By day, we’re the elite, untouchable, and more connected than you could ever imagine. By night, we revel in the darkness of our secrets, pulling strings that make the city bow to our whims.

What’s a straight guy to do when he accidentally goes on a date with his brand new gym-bro? Offer to be the best wingman ever, of course! It’s foolproof. Joey needs a man? I’ll find him one. He wants someone who looks, well, kind of like me? No problem! Not into watersports? I’ve got him covered. The issue is, going on all these dates with Joey makes me realize I want more of his time to be spent with me. I like the guy. And his smile. And the way he makes me feel like anything is possible.

Being a lifelong Chicago Thunder fan, I know that Blaine Olsen is trouble. Because all hockey players are. He's a notorious playboy, and I refuse to be another notch on his bedpost. But when he shows me the part of himself he keeps hidden, it gets harder to resist him.

Being ghosted by the love of your life sucks. Zero out of 10, do not recommend. One day, we’re exchanging rings and picking honeymoon destinations, and the next, Emery is just...gone. A year later, as I'm forcing myself to move on, I bump into him. While my brothers would love to find creative ways to get the truth out of Emery, I just want answers. When it becomes clear Emery isn't lying about losing his memory in a car accident, I have a choice to make. Do I let him go or try to win him back?

Sometimes I want to punch that smirk off Atlas McCallister's pretty face. He's cocky. A troublemaker. A pain. And, unfortunately, my stepbrother. We've been fire and kerosene since our parents got together, and to keep from exploding into fistfights, we've used challenges, dares, and bets to battle out our differences. Our past bets have been a little inappropriate—scandalous, even—but Atlas's latest bet has gone too far. Do I really believe if he loses, my straight stepbrother is gonna mess around with a guy? And not just any guy: me, his rival and nemesis?

There’s nothing wrong with admiring a work of art, or so I tell myself…even when the admiring is more like peeping out my bedroom window, and the work of art is the shirtless, sweaty, body of the man who’s been mowing my lawn once a week every summer for years.

It was supposed to be a straightforward protection job. Remove the target from Vermont, get him to the safehouse, keep him there until his mafia uncle testifies, get back in my employer’s good graces. But it turns out things get complicated real fast when your target is an adorkable, accident-prone cutie with a shockingly low sense of self-preservation, zero clue that he’s related to the Fromadgio crime boss, and 100% too much inclination to chat happily with strangers.

Rhett's inheritance of the gorgeous Victorian house was expected. What was not expected was: Two familiars; A house full of ghosts; Magic powers?!; A new boyfriend, maybe, possibly, please, and thank you. Now, if he could just figure out how to handle everything, life would be peachy.

Keep an eye on Ren, they said. Just for tonight, they said. Next thing you know, I'm babysitting 300 succulents and Ren is making himself at home in my space. The Christmas Roommate is a stand-alone Christmas short story set in Ana’s new world of the Spencer brothers. Expect lots of pining from two guys who secretly love each other, an adorable puppy, and the biggest collection of succulents in the history of romance.

When it comes to hockey, I'm all about the game. I've worked for years to be one of the best in the league, and l've done it without splashing my orientation all over the tabloids. My hockey image is one I've carefully cultivated, and after one night with Ezra Palaszczuk, I risk it all. He's cocky, obnoxious, and has an ego bigger than Massachusetts. And okay, maybe he's the sexiest man I've ever known. We'll never get along. Not when we sleep together. Not even when my possessive streak awakens. That doesn't stop us from falling into bed together over and over again.

Nicholas “Coal” Claus used to love Christmas. Until his father, the reigning Santa, turned the holiday into a PR façade. Coal will do anything to escape the spectacle, including getting tangled in a drunken, supremely hot make-out session with a beautiful man behind a seedy bar one night. But the heir to Christmas is soon commanded to do his duty: he will marry his best friend, Iris, the Easter Princess and his brother’s not-so-secret crush. A situation that has disaster written all over it. Things go from bad to worse when a rival arrives to challenge Coal for the princess’s hand.

Ever since we met two years ago, Eden Burkehammer has made everything better. The big defenseman sets me at ease. He’s a beast on the ice—brutal and physical—but when it’s the two of us, he turns to me with these unexpectedly soft brown eyes. This gravelly laugh that makes my whole body smile. And yeah, I might have thrown a glance his way a time or two in the steamed-up locker room showers—you know, just curious. But he’s my best friend. My teammate. Roommate. I don’t want to mess with that. Just the thought of losing him sends a cold zap the full length of my spine.

I'm the Grinch who saves Christmas… Yep, you read that right. Every year, I save Christmas—and Christmas Falls—by organizing a massive festival that sustains tourism in our little town. It turns out that when Christmas is your life 24/7, the shine wears off the twinkly lights after a while. The holidays are a heck of a lot of work, and when I go home, I want peace and quiet, not fa-la-la-ing on my porch. That all changes when my sister brings me an early Christmas gift. One I didn't ask for. One that's tall, broad, and handsome...

Is it wrong that I watch him? Leif Anderson seems like a friendly, kind, normal, boy-next-door type. Unlike me. His stalker, a creep who moved into the place next to his parents’ house to keep an eye on him. I’m not the bad guy, though. I’m the one who will protect him. The cops don’t believe he’s in danger. Maybe they’re right, and this is all in my messed-up head. I’ve been wrong before. And no matter how I justify this to myself, my motives aren’t entirely pure.

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.