I should have run the other way. Paid my tab and gone back to my room. But he was there. And he was…everything. I figured, what’s the harm in letting passion rule my decisions for one night? So what if he looks like the Devil in a suit? I’d be leaving in the morning, flying home to my pleasant but predictable life. I’d never see him again. Except I do. In the last place I expected. And now everything I’ve worked so hard for is in jeopardy.

Running away from home at 17 wasn't easy. Let's face it, though, nothing before or in the ten years since has ever been easy for me. And I'm doing okay—sorta. I just need to keep scraping by, living under the radar. Staying out of people's way, off people's minds. When a man walks through my open patio door, stepping boldly into my home and my life, I should be scared, frightened, terrified. I must be more broken than I realized because I'm none of those things. I'm intrigued—and I'm wondering if the way to take control of my life is by giving in to him.

I'm a dangerous man. A man who has spent the last two decades removing so many souls from this earth that it's a miracle my hands aren't permanently stained red. I'm a man who belongs in the shadows. I certainly don't belong in my pretty little neighbor's bedroom when she's not home, touching her things and inhaling her scent. I shouldn't follow her. Shouldn't watch her. No number of cookies on my doorstep will change the fact that love isn't an option for me. The only option left for me is violence.

Help Wanted: Grumpy Mountain Man seeks baby momma. Job is an incubator position only. Surrogate must be impervious to grunting in the form of communication and nosey brotherly neighbors. Rustic mountain range housing available upon request. I wanted to pummel my irritating brothers when they posted their own version of a wanted ad to help me with my life. But I can’t fault the results once the right woman lands on my lap. Becoming a single father is not a decision I made lightly. In fact, it’s the biggest decision of my entire life.

Beckett Langfield is grumpy, rich and hates kids. I’m an overworked, overstressed, and overweight single mom. The only reason we’re getting married is because he needs to fix a PR disaster and I am available. As in sitting next to him, in a bar, when he has this brilliant idea. Considering I just got divorced, I’m not looking to do that again. But Beckett makes me an offer that I literally can’t refuse, so I don’t.

First rule of being a nanny? Don’t fall for the single dad, even if he is smoking hot. But that’s exactly what happens when grumpy small-town sheriff Asher Whitlock reluctantly hires me to take care of his daughter for the summer. Neither of us is thrilled with the arrangement, but he’s desperate for help, and I need the money for grad school this fall.

He won’t tell me his last name, and maybe that should throw up a thousand red flags, but when I’m all alone in a new city and struggling to make ends meet, his texts are the lifeline I’ve been desperate for. I never would have answered that text if I’d known that Lincoln Daniels—superstar hockey player extraordinaire—was the one sending it. He’s trying to sweep me off my feet now. He says he’s obsessed. He wants me to wear his number…permanently. But is he still the wrong number, or can this hockey god prove he’s Mr. Right?

When Mia shows up for the interview at a well-known architecture firm, she only has 27p, a squashed loaf of bread, and a jar of peanut butter to her name. She needs this job, even if she is scared to death of the owner of the company. To Mia, huge, grumpy men aren't sexy; they're simply terrifying. She knows from experience that even men of average size can be dangerous. If she weren't so desperate, she'd run.

I hate Dante Moretti. He is cold, calculating, and vicious. It’s no secret that he wiped out his former fiancée and her entire family on the eve of their wedding. He’s the kind of evil that makes even devils cry. But that’s not why I hate him.

I’ve slapped my cuffs on Luna Lancaster too many times to count and not a single one was for fun. As the sheriff of Starlight Cove, I shouldn't crave her, but I do. She’s chaos, mayhem, and sunshine wrapped up in too-tight yoga pants. The lawbreaker might have the town enamored with her free spirit, but she’s a thorn in my side, even if she is the sexiest woman I've ever seen. I want her out of my town and out of my head. Trouble is, she's made it perfectly clear she's not going anywhere.

Holt Sebastian is royalty in our world. As CEO of the Sebastian News Corp, he’s the man with all the power. The man who decides if I’ll always just be a local television anchor or if I’ll be the rising star of my own show.

Riggs “Chappy” Chapman didn’t expect to be disrupted at his remote cabin in the woods. But when a stray dog arrives on his porch, he winds up finding a stray woman, too, trudging through the snowstorm in search of shelter. His military days may be behind him, but Chappy is hardwired to protect her from the storm and whatever it is she’s running from.

Vanessa Mazur refuses to feel bad for quitting—she knows she’s doing the right thing. The thankless job of personal assistant to the top defensive end in the National Football Organization was always supposed to be temporary. She has plans for her life, and none of them include washing extra-large underwear one more day for a man who could never find it in him to tell her good morning, congratulate her on a job well done, or wish her a happy birthday—even when she was spending it working for him.

Carter Beckett is the NHL’s resident bad boy, top player both on the ice and in the bedroom, and quite possibly the sexiest man to ever grace my field of vision. But worst of all? He knows it. He’s arrogant, self-centered, and the man doesn’t seem to know what a filter is, let alone how to use one. He’s had everything served to him on a silver platter, including endless strings of women, and apparently, I’m up next. I have the solution to all my sexual frustrations in a drawer at home, and it’s far less complicated than Carter Beckett.

I keep my head down. In this backward pack, females rank low, and my bad leg makes me damaged goods. It doesn’t help that I’ve never shifted. I don’t mind the late-20s single life, though. No one’s paying any attention as I build an illicit farmer’s market empire. My roomies and I are doing it for ourselves, and if life under Killian Kelly is stifling, at least it’s predictable. We can deal. But when biology finally kicks in, I lose my mind. I claim our alpha as my mate. And he rejects me in front of the whole pack.