I have three months to write the last book of my life. Three months to confess the details of that day, and how it changed everything for me. My name is Helena Ross. I've written 15 romance novels, 10 of which have become international best sellers. But this one isn't a romance, no happily ever after in place. This novel holds only the truth, which I have run away from for four years. The truth, which I have hidden from the police, from my loved ones, from the world.

A billion-dollar fashion empire, and it's about to be mine. I've worked a decade for this. I've sold my soul and my reputation. I've lived a lie, smiled for the cameras, and hated myself, all for this fortune. And then she pops up. A mysterious heir with a rap sheet, combat boots, and a mouth that I want to pin shut with my - it doesn’t matter. I've played this game for a decade. I can continue the charade a little longer, keep my hands to myself and her body out of my mind.

Lillian Smith leads an unexceptional life, writing obituaries and killing time with her inattentive husband and disconnected son. Then she meets David, a handsome stranger, in a coffee shop. Lured into an affair, she invents a new persona, one without strings, deadlines, or brooding husbands. Lillian has never felt so reckless, unpredictable, or wanted. But as her affair with David intensifies, she withdraws from everything that’s real, even her closest friend.

The summer that Chase Stern entered my life, I was 17. The daughter of a legend, the Yankees were my family, their stadium my home, their dugout my workplace. My focus was on the game. Chase started out as a distraction. A distraction with sex appeal poured into every inch of his six-foot frame. A distraction who played like a god and partied like a devil. I tried to stay away. I couldn't. Then, the team started losing. Women started dying. And everything in my perfect world broke apart.

You might be asking yourself why I’m waving an inflatable penis in the air and screaming at the top of my lungs. If I took time to explain, Declan Moss would get hit by a bus. Let me back up. I didn’t ask for this. I was perfectly happy - and perfectly sane - before I stumbled into the role of Declan’s guardian angel. It was a thankless job until the moment that my panties dropped and his delicious smirk found his way in between my thighs. Hello, toe-curling ecstasy. Good-bye, professional boundaries. And suddenly, there’s a new danger to avoid: the falling of my heart.

Actress Nora Kemp loves two men. One is Hugh Iverson, a philanthropic movie star who gives Nora security and respectability. The other is Hugh’s twin brother, Trent, a Hollywood bad boy who brings out Nora’s wild side. When Trent and an unidentified woman are found dead on the Iversons’ Beverly Hills property, more than Nora’s and Hugh’s reputations are at stake.

I hired her to fix my company, to bring Marks Lingerie back to life. I didn't expect her to become my friend. I didn't expect to fall in love with her. The first rule of business is to never touch your employees. I think there is another rule about not falling for your best friend - a rule against imagining the curves of her body, or the way her breathing would change if I pulled down her panties and unzipped my pants.

Cat Winthorpe has worked hard to get what she has: a gorgeous home; social standing; and William, her successful, handsome husband. Then a friendly new couple moves into the estate next door. While cautious, a good neighbor like Cat greets them with open arms and warm hospitality. Neena Ryder isn’t a fellow lady of leisure. A life coach with off-the-rack dresses, personal issues, and a husband who hasn’t delivered, she’s anxious to move up in the world. This beautiful new town is a step in the right direction. It’s also making Neena aware of what she doesn’t have.

Chloe Madison. That's me. A former NYU princess who just fell from grace, right off my pampered Manhattan throne and onto the unforgiving steps of Nicole Brantley, socialite and queen bitch. Now, I walk her dog and mix her smoothies. Try to navigate my own problems while fixing all of hers. I want what every New York girl wants. A career, an apartment, and true love, preferably in a smoking hot package. It turns out I'll have to fight for all of it.

Psychiatrist Dr. Gwen Moore is an expert on killers. She’s spent a decade treating California’s most depraved predators and unlocking their motives - predators much like the notorious Bloody Heart serial killer, whose latest teenage victim escaped and then identified local high school teacher Randall Thompson as his captor. The case against Thompson as the Bloody Heart Killer is damning - and closed, as far as Gwen and the media are concerned. If not for one new development.

What happens is that you get “make out with strangers and pee in a parking lot” drunk. Tie the knot with a guy you just met. Then *allegedly* participate in depraved group activities with him and his friends in the honeymoon suite of a five-star hotel. But that’s not even the worst part.

Alec. Christine. Danny. This is how you say our names. Danger is our drug of choice, the triangle our addiction. Alec. Golden boy with diamonds in his eyes. Christine. Partner in crime and owner of my heart. They know what they want. Me. Danny. Unsure of everything they’re offering. But if she needs me, I come. So when he called, I went. It’s just that simple. Until it wasn’t. Until all those memories come rushing back with all the things we left behind. I only know three things. There is no her without him. No me without them. No we without us. We are Alec, Christine, and Danny.

It all started with an unexpected phone call. Two years after my fiancé passed away in an accident, his father died suddenly, leaving Brad’s adult special-needs brother with no one to care for him. The next thing I knew, I was on a cross-country drive to New Hampshire where I’d be moving in to look after Scottie until I could get him into a group home. The last thing I ever expected? I wouldn’t be taking care of him alone.

The first night I met Gillian Taylor, she claimed she was a pilot. Then she claimed she worked for a "private airline." I knew right then and there that she was lying to me, and that sexy as hell or not, she was the type of woman I needed to avoid. Still, after a pleasurable one-night stand, I was certain we'd never see each other again. Until I saw her in an airport a few weeks later.... Until I realized that we were both assigned to work the same flight. She was the flight attendant. I was the pilot.

It all started when I hosted a little party for a bunch of new friends. Though “friends” might not be the right word since the invitees were all the women I’d found out my boyfriend was talking to behind my back. When the guest of honor walked in—aka my now ex—things took a turn… Unfortunately, a stranger witnessed the whole blowout. I was in a mood that night and ended up giving this gorgeous guy an attitude, too. As if my night could get any worse, before he stormed off, he informed me he was actually my landlord.