In my world, women are property. Made to be owned. Born for one reason - to be tied to a powerful man, to bear the next generation. That reason is why I don’t want to be married. But women aren’t the only ones with zero say in their lives.... And my bride? Bratva scum.

The second our eyes meet, I feel it. The ticking clock. It's only a matter of time before we come together. Before the heat that arcs between us turns into a conflagration. But he's a mobster. An O’Donnelly. His notoriety is legendary. I'm a journalist. I expose men like him, which is how I built my reputation.

Secrets—you know my family is founded on them. Lies—my marriage hinges on one. I kept the past buried like a coward. Now, I feel the constraints of my choices like they’re a chokehold. I know that it’s time to tell my wife the truth. It’s time to deal with the consequences of my actions. Aoife deserves to be my judge, jury, and executioner. If she burns down the house with me in it, well, that’s on me and my filthy secrets….

I'm nothing like my father. My brothers don't realize I'm a thousand times worse. Grief fuels my every action. Vengeance burns through my veins, dictating every decision I make. I'll shatter allegiances to please him. I'm nothing like my father. You don't realize that I'm a thousand times worse. I have Savannah at my side—a ruthless partner capable of raining hellfire upon her enemies—until she realizes I lied to her.... My house of cards is tumbling down, and I've underestimated my queen.

He’s dark. Dirty. Dangerous. A brother in my dad’s MC. Everything Mom told me to avoid. Everything I shouldn’t want. But his dark, his dirty, and his dangerous are like catnip to me. He stirs fear into the hearts of men, but I hear his rage. I feel it like it’s my own. He’s a killer. Shameless. Some might even call him a psycho. I just call him soul mate. We were born to raise hell together.

Star's my penguin. She doesn't know it. She took off. Sure. I'm mad at her. Sure. But that's her charm. She's ornery. Difficult. Impossible to love, but I see her BS. And I call her on it. I'll chase her from the North Pole to Antarctica. This Fecker isn't about to lose his soul mate.

Conor's my lifeline. He doesn't know it. I need him to find me. I need him to chase me. I need him to love me. If I haven't already destroyed what we might have had, he's crazy enough to take me on. My Fecker. Mine.

When my father tries to force me to marry one of his cronies, I run away to my half-brother's home. He's the black sheep of the family, a biker, not an Irish mobster. At the Satan's Sinners' MC compound, I find more than I bargained for. Not my brother, ironically, but a man who gives a whole other meaning to "white knight." He's dark and mysterious, a seeker of answers and a finder of truths. Even better? He offers me an out, a shotgun wedding in Vegas.

She was an assignment: a selfish brat who'd run away from home and who’d found refuge in an MC, a spoiled pain in my ass that I had to bring back to Daddy. Only—Isabelle is nothing like the picture my initial research painted. Yes, she's a brat. Yes, she's insecure. And yes, she's a Disciple…sort of. But she's so much more than that. So broken, yet so hopeful. So lost, yet so eager to be found.

Laurel Lake held the title America’s Friendliest Town for seventeen years running, and friendly was just what I needed right now. Unfortunately, friendly wasn’t the welcome I got when I arrived. Instead, I got Fox Cassidy. My tall, dark, and burly neighbor, who grunted at me instead of saying hello. Okay, so I might’ve had his mailbox in my hands the first time we met. And it might’ve been a little crushed after removing it from under my tire. And I might’ve needed his help breaking into the place I was staying in after the key broke off in the lock.

Abby has been through hell and has survived one of the most brutal childhoods imaginable. To the outside world, she is just a loner with an attitude. When her grandmother dies in a tragic explosion, Abby is left with questions - and nothing else. Homeless, sleeping in a junkyard, and on the run from a system that has failed her over and over again, she meets Jake, a tattooed, blue-eyed biker with secrets that rival her own. Two broken souls that can't be healed. They can't be saved.

Dante Marino’s the definition of beautiful destruction. Everything he touched, he destroyed...including me. We were friends. Then we weren't. He used me. Played me. Took every ounce of my affection and threw it away. He became my enemy, then risked everything to save me. Now, he wants me back, claiming he's changed - determined to make me his. Each vow, every possessive kiss, feels like he’s mine. But I can't forget that underneath his rock-hard body, seductive grin, and wicked promises, one thing will always remain true - he's my undoing.

One night. No names. No commitment. That was our agreement. But Spencer Lancaster was addictive. And I was high. High off his taste, starved for his kiss, and desperate for his touch. So when he asked me to stay, to enjoy his company for more nights than I knew I should, I wasn't in the right mind to say no. Everything was perfect. A dream come true. But half a world away, there were secrets. Lies. Insecurities. All of the truths that could tear us apart.

Nate Monson was gorgeous, obnoxiously wealthy, and a player. He was also the person who could destroy my world with a single decision. I walked into that bar looking for him. He saw me. I saw him. The chemistry sizzled between us, but no. I hated Nate Monson. I hated him with everything in me, even though my body did not. It didn't matter. Nothing I wanted mattered. He thought I wanted to get laid. What I wanted was for him to disappear. But first, I had to tell him that he had a daughter.

Callum Griffin is the heir to the Irish mafia. He’s ruthless, arrogant, and he wants to kill me. We got off on the wrong foot when I set a (very small) fire in his house. Our families believe a marriage pact is the only thing that will prevent all-out warfare. I think I might need to murder him while he sleeps. This would all be a lot easier if Callum wasn’t so damned good-looking.