My name is Rachel Price, and two months ago, I walked away from the perfect man. Sweet and funny, and so hot it should be illegal—we shared one magical night. No names. No strings. I never thought I'd see him again. I was wrong. It turns out Mr. Perfect is the playboy grinder for the Jacksonville Rays, the NHL's hottest new hockey team . . . and I'm his new physical therapist. Oh, and the jerk doesn't even recognize me!

I made a deal with my brother a long time ago to never date his teammates. Technically, Rowan Landry, the hot as hell center for the Chicago Falcons, is no longer my brother’s teammate. Or his best friend. Their college days are long behind them, and they barely talk now. Also, I’m not dating him—we’re just sleeping together. There’s a difference.

I had a foolproof plan. Finish college playing the best sport on earth. Hockey. Get drafted by an NHL team. Make my senator father at least a little proud of me. I was on track to do just that…until Violet Reece and I collided. Literally.

"Give me a second chance, babe . . . and I'll blow your mind." Monroe doesn't know why she answers the text that's obviously meant for someone else. Or why she keeps answering. Maybe it's because she's all alone in a big city and in desperate need of a lifeline. Or maybe it's because each exchange leaves her intrigued and more than a little turned on.

It was supposed to be a harmless kiss at a lavish debutante ball. A clandestine moment with a handsome stranger. But unlike his namesake, my Romeo isn’t driven by love. He’s fueled by revenge. To him, I’m a chess piece. Leverage. His rival’s betrothed. To me, he is a man deserving of poison. A dark prince I refuse to marry. He thinks I’ll accept my fate. Well, I plan to rewrite it. And in my story, Juliet doesn’t die. But Romeo? He perishes.

I caught the attention of a monster. I didn’t ask for it. Didn’t even see it coming. But the moment I do, it’s too late. Killian Carson is a predator wrapped in sophisticated charm. He’s cold-blooded, manipulative, and savage. The worst part is that no one sees his devil side. I do. And that will cost me everything. I run, but the thing about monsters? They always chase.

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.

Hockey is my life. It's my only goal, my only escape. Everything was going according to plan. All I had to do was focus on the game, keep my head down, then get drafted into the NHL. Starting the year as the captain of FU should have made that easy, but now my attention is torn between the ice and taunting my rival's little sister, Madeline Peters. My only real solace is the mystery girl inside my phone who refuses to tell me her name. Then, one drunken knock on the wrong door brings Madeline into my bedroom.

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.

Jack St. Claire is desperate. A grieving single father, he buries himself in his work—running a brand-new kink club in Paris. Instead of handling his grief, he’s built a fortress around his heart, and it’s time he hired someone to help him take care of his daughter before things get worse. Camille Aubert wasn’t looking for a new job. She just wanted to return a lost love letter she’d found within the pages of a book. But when she’s mistaken for a job candidate and hired as Jack’s live-in nanny, something tells her this is exactly where she needs to be.

As one of the world's most hated celebrities, I'm used to unwanted attention. But when I woke up one morning to find a mysterious man had broken into my house, I knew I needed security, fast. Enter "The Angels," my three ex-military bodyguards. Having three gorgeous men guarding me 24-7 sounds like a dream come true, but it turns out to be a nightmare. They're always here, watching me. Caring for me. Protecting me. They tell me to ignore them and go about my business, but I can't even think with them so close. The spark is too intense.

When I discover my boyfriend is cheating on me, I move out right away taking what I love most–my dog. As I fly out the door, I make sure to swipe the thing my ex loves best–the VIP tickets he won to a hockey game, complete with the chance to spend an evening with the city’s two biggest NHL stars. I can’t wait to snap selfies with my ex’s idols and rub it in his face.

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.

This bundle includes three books in the Slayers Hockey series. In the first book of the series, Dirty Secret, an NHL player has to keep his head down to avoid being benched for the season. But when he discovers he’s fallen for the captain's little sister, trouble gets hard to avoid. In the second book, Dirty Hookup, a rough-around-the-edges hockey player finds himself falling for a feisty redhead. Can he convince her that he's boyfriend material before it's too late? In the third book, Dirty Rebound, Cammy Wesley’s hockey-player best friend becomes her fake boyfriend.

After my ex crushed my dreams in the music industry, I’m done with getting my heart broken. Working as an assistant for an NHL player was supposed to be a breeze, but nothing about Jamie Streicher is easy. He’s an intimidatingly hot, grouchy jerk who can't stand me. The guy has a massive ego. Keeping things professional will be no problem, even when he demands I move in with him.