Weirdly, people don’t react overly well when you’re caught standing over the dead body of a murderer who’d walked free. It’s not that I thought my fellow homicide detective would rejoice when he saw what I’d done, but is a pat on the back too much to ask for? Maybe a gold star at the very least? The problem is that the person who caught me is Gabriel, the only person I care for and adore… and he’s prepared to look the other way if I leave homicide and promise to never kill again.

Being invited to my cousin’s wedding really shouldn’t be a big deal except, oh yeah, I haven't seen my family for a decade. My parents turned their backs on me, and I’ve done everything since to become successful and show them what they've lost. Only it’s kinda hard to be a success when you’re a walking trainwreck.

The first time I see Brody “Blink” Martin in the locker room, I fall hard. Big blue eyes, ripped abs…let’s just say there’s a reason the position is called tight end. But I’m Devlin “Devil” Summers—star quarterback, ladies’ man…and closeted. So I look but don’t touch. With the National Championship ours, I take a chance and kiss him. And when he kisses me back, I’m winning for the second time that night. From that moment on, we know we’re meant to be together.

If there’s one thing I don’t need upsetting my quiet and comfortable routine in the small town of Darling, Montana, it’s newcomer Ash Alcott crash landing on my family’s ranch like some sort of blonde angel. I don’t need his flirting. Or his smile. I don’t need the way he makes me question whether or not I’m truly happy being alone at forty. I certainly don’t need to be giving him riding lessons or appreciating the meals he cooks for the ranch.

Hockey is in my blood. I learned to skate before I learned how to ride a bike. I’ve been on a wild ride, playing at the highest level for some of the biggest and best teams in the league. But now it’s over, and I’m not sure what to do with myself. So I'm going home to Elmwood. But I’ll tell you what I’m not gonna do—I’m not going to coach my buddy’s junior hockey league. No chance. I don’t know how to deal with kids, and besides, the other coach—who happens to be my best friend’s brother—hates me. With reason.

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.

Art evaluator Miles Tate is finally about to start living his dream . . . that is if he can get the funding in place to open his own art gallery in New York. But when an unexpected turn of events finds every one of Miles's perfectly-planned dreams turned upside-down, it's time to escape Manhattan and reluctantly take up a well-paid job in the tiny seaside town of Hope's Bluff, Georgia. For Miles, it's his only chance to make some money, claw back what little dignity he has left, and figure out what the hell to do with his life.

If I had to choose one word to describe my new cocky costar, it’d be exasperating. Nikolas Adamos may look like a Greek god—and he certainly struts around like he knows it—but unlike everyone else, I refuse to fall prey to his charms. Unfortunately for me, Niko and I get paired to do a series of lovey-dovey boyfriend videos for our employers at Elite 8 Studios. And when you film the sort of scenes we do, up close and personal takes on a whole new meaning.

"Oh my God, Briar! Where did you get that prosthetic leg?" Things as a parent Lane thought he'd never say for four hundred, Alex. But that's par for the course in Lane Ashbury's life considering everything is on the verge of falling apart. He not only has a toddler building her skills as a professional klepto, but he's also on the verge of divorce, and hoping desperately to save his business before it goes under. Luckily, the owner of the stolen leg might just be an angel in disguise when he offers to be Lane's new nanny instead of pressing charges.

Dancing is everything to me. It’s the mother I lost, the father who never sees me. It’s the fiery love of my life, and I’ll defend it to my last breath—that’s what it means to be the lead principal at one of the best ballet companies in the world. Just when I thought I was on top, my greatest rival—my eternal nemesis—waltzes back into my life: Nicoló Savini. The ache in my bones and the bane of my existence. If he thinks I’ll sit back and let him steal my spotlight, he’s sorely mistaken.

Sometimes, Rory Rutherford smells like candy. Usually, he smells like freshly baked bread, but such is the life of a baker. It was no accident Rory was in the park that day, but he couldn’t have foreseen what would transpire by the fountain.

Brennan Taylor is at the end of his rope, and the busted pipe under his kitchen sink was the last straw. He knows nothing about plumbing, or any of the other things his father says a grown man should know, but lucky for him, he is about to lose it in front of the perfect man to help him.

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.

It’s hard enough balancing two jobs with raising my son solo. Forget dating. I barely have time for laundry. But when my son’s scouting troop The Falcons needed a co-scout leader, I couldn’t say no. There’s just one ginormous problem: the other scout leader Russ. To all other parents, he’s #DadGoals, Mr. Sexy Widower who lords over the drop off line. To me? He’s the bane of my picket-fenced existence - stuck up, anal (not in the fun way), and definitely the person who got me booted from the Parent Teacher Association.

Anyone who spends time with me knows two things. One: If I want something, I get it, which is how I end up back in my old college haunts, buying a dilapidated bar with my five best friends and staring down the barrel of an unknown future. Two: The idea of settling down makes my skin crawl, and that's how I made it to forty with zero serious relationships in the rearview mirror. At least I'm smart enough to hire the right people. Enter Salem Barlowe, the prettiest twink who ever twinked and my personal kryptonite.