Luna Rexroth is everyone’s favorite wallflower. Underneath the meek, tomboy exterior everyone loves (yet pities) is a girl who knows exactly what, and who, she wants - namely, the boy from the tree house who taught her how to curse in sign language. Who taught her how to laugh. To live. To love. Knight Cole is everyone’s favorite football hero. This daredevil hell-raiser could knock you up with his gaze alone, but he only has eyes for the girl across the street: Luna. But Luna is not who she used to be. She doesn’t need his protection anymore.

The most important thing I’d ever read was scribbled on the door of a portable restroom, engraved into plastic at a carnival on the outskirts of Boston. Lust lingers, love stays. Lust is impatient, love waits. Lust burns, love warms. Lust destroys, but love? Love kills. Maybe it was always my destiny to fall in love with a monster. When other kids stayed awake at night fearing the pointy-toothed beast hiding in their closet, I longed to see mine.

They say revenge is a dish best served cold. I’d had four years to stew on what Daria Followhill did to me...now my heart was completely iced. I took her first kiss. She took the only thing I loved. I was poor. She was rich. The good thing about circumstances? They can change. Fast. Now, I’m her parents’ latest shiny project. Her housemate. Her tormentor. The captain of the rival football team she hates so much. Yeah, baby girl, say it. I’m your foster brother. There’s a price to pay for ruining the only good thing in my life. She’s about to shell out some serious tears.

They call him The Mute for a reason. Hard, cold, and calculated, he rarely speaks. When he does, it's with disdain. When he does, his words aren't meant for me. When he does, my stomach flips and my world tilts on its axis. He is 33. I am 18. He's a single dad and my father's business partner. I'm just a kid to him and his enemy's daughter. He's emotionally unavailable. And I am...feeling. Feeling things I shouldn't feel for him. Trent Rexroth is going to break my heart. The writing isn't just on the wall, it's inked on my soul.

They say love and hate are the same feelings experienced under different circumstances, and it's true. The man who comes to me in my dreams also haunts me in my nightmares. He is a brilliant lawyer. A skilled criminal. A beautiful liar. A bully and a savior, a monster and a lover. Ten years ago, he made me run away from the small town where we lived. Now, he came for me in New York, and he isn't leaving until he takes me with him.

They say that life is a beautiful lie and death a painful truth. They're right. No one has ever made me feel more alive than the guy who serves as a constant reminder that my clock is ticking. He is my forbidden, shiny apple. The striking fallacy to my blunt, raw, truth. He is also my sister's ex-boyfriend. One thing you should know before you judge me: I saw him first. I craved him first. I loved him first. Eleven years later, he waltzed into my life, demanding a second chance. Dean Cole wants to be my bronze horseman. Hopefully, he isn't too late.

Bane: Naked surfer. Habitual pothead. A con, a liar, a thief, and a fraud. Last I heard, he was extorting the rich and screwing their wives for a living. Which is why I’m more than a little surprised to find him at my threshold, looking for my friendship, my services, and most puzzling of all - looking humbled. Thing is, I’m on a boycott. Literally - cut boys from my life. Permanently. Problem is, Bane is not a boy, he is all man, and I’m falling, crashing, drowning in his sweet, perfect lies.

Cruel. Coldblooded. Hades in a Brioni suit. Cillian Fitzpatrick has been dubbed every wicked thing on planet earth. To the media, he is The Villain. To me, he is the man who (reluctantly) saved my life. Now I need him to do me another small solid. Bail me out of the mess my husband got me into. What’s a hundred grand to one of the wealthiest men in America, anyway? Only Cillian doesn’t hand out free favors. The price for the money, it turns out, is my freedom.

Troy Brennan: Every Southie in Boston knows that name. The son of a dead mobster. The heartthrob with steel-blue eyes. "The Fixer" who can make or break you in this city. Oh, and my new husband. Sparrow Raynes: That's me. No one seemed to remember my name up until he barged into my life. But then he caged me. Kidnapped me. And killed every chance I had to run away from the place where we grew up.

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....

Grace doesn’t know much about anything beyond her town’s limits, but she does know this: She is falling in love with the hottest guy in Sheridan U. And when you play with fire - you ought to get burned. 

Sometimes you meet people who are out of this world, so you make them a part of yours. A one-night stand born from vengeance in a foreign land. An explosive chemistry neither of us could deny. We signed a contract on the back of a Boar’s Head Pub napkin that said if we ever met again, we would drop everything and be together. Eight years and thousands of miles later, he’s here. In New York. And he’s America’s music obsession. 

I’ve tried to like Adrian Savage, the mercurial frontman for Fugitive Summer, while serving as his band’s opening act on tour. We’re stuck together for three months, after all. And I’m well aware I’m lucky to be here. But it’s proved impossible. He’s far too rude and dismissive a guy to get along with. And way too good at getting under my skin. In fact, at this point, I think it’s fair to say I downright hate his guts. 

Donovan and I met at a coffee shop to do the suitcase exchange. Turned out, it wasn’t just his voice that was sexy. The man holding my luggage was absolutely gorgeous, and we had an immediate spark. He got me to admit that I’d snooped in his bag and then convinced me to make it up to him by letting him buy me coffee. Coffee led to dinner, dinner led to dessert, and dessert led to spending an entire weekend together. So what did I do to repay him for his kindness? I waited until he was in the shower, then ghosted him.

Our first meeting was at a wedding, where he followed me outside and kissed me. Our second meeting ended in a huge fight with me kicking him out. Our third meeting, I went on a double blind date. You can imagine my surprise when I saw familiar blue eyes across the table opposite my friend. Then, he sent me an email listing 30 reasons why I should go on a date with him. His list was some of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever read. And the funniest. We laughed hard and loved harder. Wild, handsome players don’t fall for innocent girls like me. Or do they?