Maggie's mind is reeling when she discovers the guy she became tangled up with at Marv's Bait & Tackle isn't a stranger like she thought. The big snag: Sam and Maggie's chemistry is hot enough to melt ice, which makes keeping their secret far more difficult than either expected. Especially when one of them decides they want this arrangement to be more than just a catch and release.

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". 

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.

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. 

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.  

College was supposed to be my chance to get over my ugly-duckling complex and spread my wings. Instead, I wound up in a sorority full of mean girls. I already have a hard time fitting in, so when my Kappa Chi sisters issue the challenge, I can’t say no. The dare: Seduce the hottest new hockey player in the junior class. Conor Edwards is a regular at Greek Row parties...and in Greek Row sorority beds. Mr. Popular throws me for a loop and does me a solid by letting me take him upstairs to pretend we’re getting busy.

Deacon was rough on the exterior, but apparently on the inside? Mr. Single-and-Ready-to-Mingle was a baby whisperer. After that night, we became friends. He’d go for coffee runs. Come over to chat. Normal friend stuff. But over time, our conversations ran deeper. We got closer. Until one night we crossed the line.  

At one point during the party, Alessandra said, “There’s nothing like a girl’s first love.” I knew she was talking about the first smash hit by my band, 22 Goats. Alessandra said it was the first song she’d heard by us and it “hit her like a ton of bricks”. Ironic, seeing as how I was having the same reaction from being in her presence.   

Midfielder Maclay "Mac" Logan is a loud-mouthed, tattooed ginger content with focusing on football. But when an adorable, freckled seamstress comes barreling into his life, he finds Netflix-And-Bickering with her to be his new favorite pastime. Freya Cook is used to being the invisible woman with a needle and thread, offering cheeky punchlines as she helps dress London's finest. She's plus-sized in body and spirit, and other than her friendship with Mac, talking to the opposite sex is one skill she never mastered. 

Dear Mr. Vega: I felt it necessary to follow up on today’s meeting, since we weren’t able to speak candidly in front of your son. I was shocked to discover that you are Ryder’s dad. I think it would be best if we just pretend that we met in person for the first time today. Your son is a very bright (flirtatious and talkative) student and since his education is a top priority for both of us, I hope I can count on you to respectfully refrain from grinning at me, using that sexy tone of voice, and undressing me with your annoyingly beautiful brown eyes....

One Friday night, after a horrible day at work, Elena decides to cheer herself up with a one-night stand with a hot stranger. The guy who propositions her has a scorching bod and a sexy British accent. Cheered up? Check. Until Monday morning, when she walks into the office, and there he is. Her one-nighter is her boss's ex-husband, Chance Dixon.

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. 

I can’t believe I have to go home to Nebraska for my sister’s wedding. I’m gonna need a wingman and a whole lot of vodka for this level of family interaction. At least my bestie agreed he’d man up and help. Too bad he had to catch a different flight than me. Then, his plane got delayed. And finally - because bad things always happen in threes - instead of my best friend, his evil twin walks out of the airport. If you looked up doesn’t-deserve-to-be-that-confident, way-too-hot-for-his-own-good billionaire in the dictionary, you’d find a picture of Grady Holt. He’s awful.

Mr. Santillian, Despite the fact I'm currently living out of your guest room and sleeping with you most nights, I am writing to announce my resignation, effective two weeks from today. In other words, I'll locate someone who is both obscenely overqualified and willing to devote their days to the handful of tasks you are able to wrench from your perfectionist, micromanaging grip.

My love story all started with a letter. Only it wasn’t from the man I’d eventually fall in love with. It was from his daughter. A sweet little girl named Birdie Maxwell who’d written to the magazine that I worked for. You see, once a year my employer fulfilled a few wishes for readers. Only that column didn’t start up again for months. So I fulfilled some of her wishes myself. It was harmless…so I thought. Until one day I took things too far. While anonymously granting yet another of Birdie’s wishes, I got a look at her father.