Conor: It starts with a drunken text pic. The kind I would normally never send. Only, instead of it going to the flirty hotel bartender, it goes to some random stranger who actually responds. Wells: The first thing I notice about Conor Newell when he sits down in my high-rise conference room is how delightfully nervous he is. Then I see his tie. The same geeky tie that’s held hostage on my phone. The one that belongs to my anonymous late-night texter. And it changes everything.

Proposing to my first boyfriend at a hockey game wasn’t my smartest move. Not only does said boyfriend walk out on me, but the whole stupid thing goes viral, and it turns out the man I was dating has too many boyfriends to count. Internet fame has crowned me a member of the Jilted Exes’ Club, a name I’d do anything to escape. One thing’s for sure: I’m not making the same mistake again. No more boyfriends, just easy hookups. And I’ll start with this gorgeous catch in Seattle. The only problem…he’s a god in bed, and I’m an inexperienced mess.

Join the men of Champion Security as they settle into the town of Licking Thicket, Tennessee… and accidentally stumble into a whole heap of trouble. From accidentally hijacking a cartel overlord’s plane, to posing as fake-fiances to plan a wedding and solve a crime, to hacking the world’s silliest video game, the Champion Security series is packed with laugh-out-loud humor, steamy connections made under pressure, and plenty of delicious, schmoopy love.

Rowe Prince is many things. But when it turns out Rowe’s lies conceal a secret that threatens the company I’ve spent years building, I have to choose: say goodbye to the sweet pretender I’m falling for, or risk everything for a man who just might be… the prince of lies.

Whoever convinced me to join the gym needs to be hung, drawn, and quartered. Or, at the very least, suffer with a pillow hot on both sides every night, because this? This is terrible. Running? No thank you. Lifting? Who needs biceps anyway. Now, I will say the eye-candy is nice. Especially my new personal trainer with the tattoos and dimples. But that’s all he can ever be: eye candy. Because he’s fit and I’m not. He’s gorgeous and I’m, well, me. He’s hearing…and I’m Deaf.

I came to Legacy, Montana, to sell a fantasy—twelve Insta-ready #Holidates of Christmas. One career-making brand deal. Zero drama. Then my videographer bailed, and in walked Maddox Sullivan. Grumpy. Gorgeous. Growly. A mountain man with zero chill and even less tolerance for influencers like me. He agrees to film my content—off-camera only—but when my first date cancels, guess who ends up in front of the lens? Cue the fireworks.

Give me the smallest reason to make a bad decision, and I’ll jump in with both feet. Case in point: thinking that drunkenly buying an abandoned town with my brothers is a good idea. As builders, we plan to renovate and flip the town, maybe turn it into something worth seeing, but the longer we’re here, the more things feel … off. It’s not until a bearded mountain man breaks into my room in the middle of the night and threatens for us to get out of his town that I realize Wilde’s End isn’t as abandoned as we were told.

Failing to make it in pro ball left me absolutely devastated. Baseball has been my life, my dream, but it’s time to move on. Becoming a sports agent was always my back-up plan, and now that I’m interning at the biggest queer-focused firm in the country, I’m doing my best not to let my bitterness toward baseball affect my future. That’s really difficult when I’m assigned to babysit Kelley Afton, hotshot rookie pitcher for Philly. He has everything I ever wanted, and he doesn’t even appreciate it. I didn’t become an agent so I could soothe the ego of diva athletes.

As sheriff, I’m the guy people call for help. But when my solo Hawaii trip gets hijacked by my clingy ex, suddenly I’m the one who needs saving. My unlikely rescuer? A gorgeous stranger who plants one breathtaking, reckless kiss on me in the middle of a crowded bar—sending my ex packing…and stealing my carefully guarded heart.

As a 42-year-old single father, the last thing I expected before Christmas was for my daughter to sign me up for a community matchmaking event. The Christmas Buddies program becomes a challenge I can't wait to overcome when I realize the man that has been assigned as my buddy for the holiday season is none other than Paxton Montgomery. He's massive, grumpy, incredibly gorgeous (in a lumberjack kinda way), and also—weirdly enough—the only person in town who doesn't like me.

Being traded to the Seattle Vipers has left me with mixed feelings. On the one hand, they’re my team, the team I’ve loved and supported since I was a kid, but on the other hand, he’s here. Him. Ant Decker. Infamous NHL bad boy. Right wing to my left. A man who’s made it his sole purpose in life to be better than me.

Reed Ellis is absolutely gorgeous but a total newbie to camming, a virtual nobody in my world. I should have just deleted his message request for a steamy on-camera collaboration. Not everyone is cut out to be a camboy. But there's just something about him I couldn't resist. He's timid and inexperienced, quiet and closed off, but his fumbling first times play out scorching hot for the cameras, and our videos together are an instant success. I know I should just ride this out, sit back and watch the money roll in, and then move on.

What’s a straight guy to do when he accidentally goes on a date with his brand new gym-bro? Offer to be the best wingman ever, of course! It’s foolproof. Joey needs a man? I’ll find him one. He wants someone who looks, well, kind of like me? No problem! Not into watersports? I’ve got him covered. The issue is, going on all these dates with Joey makes me realize I want more of his time to be spent with me. I like the guy. And his smile. And the way he makes me feel like anything is possible.

When it comes to hockey, I'm all about the game. I've worked for years to be one of the best in the league, and l've done it without splashing my orientation all over the tabloids. My hockey image is one I've carefully cultivated, and after one night with Ezra Palaszczuk, I risk it all. He's cocky, obnoxious, and has an ego bigger than Massachusetts. And okay, maybe he's the sexiest man I've ever known. We'll never get along. Not when we sleep together. Not even when my possessive streak awakens. That doesn't stop us from falling into bed together over and over again.

Wanted: One night together, no strings attached. Hold me, make love to me, treat me like I’m the most important person in the world. No talking. No names. And don’t be surprised if I’m gone in the morning. After crushing on my best friend for years, I realize he’ll never want someone inexperienced like me. So I decide to get it over with, play the V-card once and for all with an anonymous hook-up. The terms are simple: No talking, no names. It isn’t as easy as it seems. Now I can’t get the handsome stranger who greeted me with soft kisses and gentle touches out of my mind.