My plan was simple. Get invited onto his yacht. Find information to destroy him. But I wasn't prepared for Alaric Prince. Dangerous and seductive, he trapped me in his gilded cage. He calls me Dove. Easily preyed on. Easily broken. A man that ruthless only wants to crush me. I must resist the temptation to let him.

If people have polar opposites, Luca Rossi is mine. His butt is in the baseball hall of fame. Mine's comfortably seated in the hall of lame. When he's not snagging fly balls out in center field, he's modeling in shampoo commercials. I once jammed my own finger while stirring cookie dough, and sometimes I forget shampoo is a thing. He's a total cynic when it comes to love. I make a living writing love stories. But after my latest broken engagement (no, I don't want to talk about how many times that's happened), it's clear he's exactly the man I need.

Every bartender should follow one simple rule - don't go home with the customers. That’s been easy for me to stick to, until the night a cocky, confident, and sinfully charming hockey star walks into my bar. This sexy athlete is too hard to resist, especially when he makes it clear how much he wants the “sarcastic, witty, hot AF” guy behind the bar - also known as me. Still, I’m not keen on breaking my own rules since I know where that can lead - no place good.   

Let me list the reasons why dating the sexy, charming pro hockey star is a bad idea: He’s one of my closest friends. All our friends are friends. The wounds I’ve got from past relationships go deep. And so do his. We’re both devoutly single - it’s just safer for the heart that way. But there’s no reason not to bid on the gorgeous, clever athlete at the charity auction this weekend. If I win, it’ll be a "friendsdate". 

As the prince of a luxury hotel empire, I am as close to American royalty as one can get. I grew up accustomed to a certain lifestyle. One where people give me what I desire and anything, or anyone, else can be bought. Everyone wants a piece of me, yet no one is actually deserving of my time. That changes when Bailey Robbins, the smoking hot housekeeper in one of my hotels, catches my attention. Sure, she has curves for days but it’s her smart mouth I can’t help but be intrigued by.

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....

You ever really think that you'll win the lottery? Meet Mr. Right? How about two Mr. Rights? Somehow the universe is handing me everything I want (except for that lottery part...), and I don't like it. Not one little bit. Because just when you get all your dreams handed to you on a silver platter, that's when an airplane dumps its sewage on your house. Or your mama's diabetes takes a bad turn. Or your mobile phone gets stuck in your hoohaw. (What? It happens...)

Fancy boats. Lakeside mansions. Luxe watches and bespoke suits. The Kings of High Court College act like Gods. And Cooper Valcourt is the worst of them. He is the bully king. His family owns everything. And his mission is to put me in my place and send me packing. But Cooper and I have a history filled with secrets. And everyone knows that power doesn’t come from having money. It comes from holding secrets. And I’m holding one of his.

One night only - that was the deal we made. But one fantastic night had us both changing our minds in the morning. And making plans for another. Until I walked into the office to learn he just bought my company. 

Lexington Dane was my brother’s best friend growing up. We did everything together. He taught me how to throw a punch, how to change a tire...and he taught me how to kiss. I fell hard and fast, and gave him all my firsts. I promised I’d wait for him.... But I’m done waiting, because he went off to college and never came back. He took his fancy business degree and moved to New York City, where he promptly became a real estate mogul - turning every penthouse and apartment project he touched into gold. 

Blakely Foxx is having one of those years. Her divorce may have been finalized a few months ago, but her ex is already engaged to someone half her age. Her younger boss is determined to sabotage her chance at getting the promotion she rightly deserves. And to make matters worse, she’s closing in on the big 4-0. There isn’t enough wine or ice cream in the world to convince her things will turn around. When Blakely meets Slade Henderson, she’s left wondering why a hotter-than-hell cardiothoracic surgeon in his early 30s would take an interest in her.  

Two books together in one bundle: Real Good Man and Real Good Love. Banner Regent is smart, funny, and she’s so far out of my league, she might as well be royalty. I’m a mechanic from Kentucky. She’s a New York City party girl. We were never supposed to meet, but one text started something neither of us saw coming.

Richard Ramsey is the guitarist for the world’s hottest new band. Gifted. Charismatic. Hot as sin. Lend your ear, and he’ll steal your heart. Nah, you can’t have his, considering he left it in his hometown years ago. He knows better than going back. But it’s his younger sister’s wedding, and there’s no way he can say no to that. He should have known she would be there, invading his senses and making him thirst and hunger for what he wants most. 

When I joined Seattle's NHL expansion team, I thought it was the start of something great. But nothing ever goes the way you expect. Take my introduction to my new neighbor. She came rolling in on the hot mess express at midnight, making a racket while she tried to get into my team captain's apartment. Did I mention that he's married to a woman who definitely was not her?

Lonnie Derringer is a filthy-mouthed, dirty-talking, long-distance fling. (That's been going on for two years.) I know, I know. That's not a fling. This might be getting serious. I look forward to our quickie lunch dates and the way he whispers in my ear every night from 2,000 miles away. He's the best boyfriend I never had. Until I find out his name isn't Lonnie, it's Alonzo. Until I find out he's not some boring accountant with a dead-end job, he's a six-foot-four, yoked-out, tatted-up fisherman who never wears a shirt!