Alina Jacobs

I admit it was me who shouted, “Looking good, hot stuff!” at Mr. Richmond this morning, but I didn’t mean it like that. Yes, Mrs. HR Lady, I know how it looks. Believe me, I am totally anti-catcalling, but that’s not what that was. Honest....

Forget the summer I turned pretty…that was the summer I got hips, acne, and utterly humiliated by Aaron Richmond. This summer? This is the summer I had to marry the bastard.

When your grandmother stalks the star hockey player on the rival team because “You need a husband, Dakota—you’re not getting any younger!” it’s Christmas crazy on ice.

When you catch your fiancé cheating on you with your sister on Christmas Eve, the elf hat comes off....

Welcome to life as a wedding planner for the rich and entitled of Manhattan. I’ve seen it all - from the nastiest bridezilla to the most overindulged billionaire. And Evan is the worst....

When you kiss your perfect boyfriend under the mistletoe...only for your cousin scream to the family that you stole her man, you realize that you will never again have a merry Christmas.

I turn weird and awkward around attractive men. I'm a nervous sweater, and when Archer walked into my art cafe that night, he was making me soaking wet. He was stupidly attractive - which caused me to go into excruciating detail about my sweating problem....

Five years ago, I royally screwed up, lied, and broke the heart of the woman I love. A sane man would buy her a nice present and grovel....

At first glance (an upward glance because he was tall), Greg Svensson seemed perfect. Six-feet-five of solid muscle with washboard abs and a tower with his name on it, Greg was a guy my parents would actually begrudgingly admire. I had our future all planned out....

The only consolation of working for free at my Gran’s failing restaurant? Weston freaking Svensson, with whom I’d had a reputation ruining encounter with in high school, wasn’t in town. That is, until he walks into the restaurant, arm in arm with the high school mean girl....

My butt pads are sliding under my shape wear, I had to starve to fit in this dress, and the last place on earth I want to be is on a date with Walker Svensson....

Armed with comfy pants, overpriced coffee, and a highly anxious emotional-support corgi, I prepare to face him. Corporate boss. Villain. Salinger Svensson. I step into his office. His perfect mouth twists into a sneer.

When Greg Svensson crossed my path four years ago, I should have just let him keep on walking...right into the street to get hit by a bus. But I was weak....

I have no alternatives—I have to throw myself to Carl Svensson’s mercy like a wretched Victorian romance heroine in order to save my dog. I wish all I had to do was lounge around a haunted mansion in a pretty dress....

In my defense, my twin sister is engaged to the love of my life. Ok, so he’s my ex of two weeks, but I have totally been in love with him since we were kids....

When your cheating husband drops dead in your cozy Christmas cat café, the proper response is not to shout, “I didn’t do it!” Showing up at his funeral with a plate of sympathy cupcakes after he’s just been poisoned by your signature Santa’s Surprise confection is…also not the correct response.

In my perfect world, it would always be winter and never Christmas. I despise the holiday. I hate carols, shopping, and pretending to be a perfect family. I walked away from my family, or rather, they walked away from me....

When your wedding-crazy, septuagenarian grandmother arranges a contest to see which of her granddaughters marries first, you have to bring out the big guns. And my billionaire boss Blade’s guns are banging....

After the first taste of her Christmas cookies I wanted to shove the whole thing in my face. The whole plate of cookies, that is. Not...you know. Christmas is bad enough without one of The Great Christmas Bake-Off contestants all wrapped up in a bow under my tree....

Beck Svensson fired me right before rent was due and in the middle of a rainstorm. That’s why he’s at the top of my hate list, along with pickles, people who steal other people’s lunches out of the office fridge, and trying to fold a fitted sheet....