Even though two of his best friends have settled down, Wes Lancaster is determined not to get sucked into some siren's web. As owner of the professional football team the New York Mavericks and the wildly successful BAD restaurant, his lifestyle is full as it is. Well, it was, until Winnie Winslow - the new sexy, stiletto-wearing team physician - trash-talks him in the locker room without batting an eye. Now he can't stop himself from wanting her.

Blind dates? Online dating profiles? Been there, done that. Georgia Cummings has zero luck with dating, and the era of the Internet is not her friend. No matter how fast she runs, how many corners she turns, she can't find her way out of this weird, alternate universe where men think dick pics are a replacement for small talk and getting to know a girl. One more crotch selfie and she might write men off for good. But why can't she stop fantasizing about him?

Kline and Georgia Brooks are fresh off their wedding and ready to indulge in the honeymoon of a lifetime. Luxurious and private, their overwater bungalow in the South Pacific is the perfect backdrop for fun, sun, and enough sexiness to necessitate a dip in the clear water to cool down. But marriage means more, and Kline and Georgia may have to find a different way to handle the heat.

Wes Lancaster has always followed one guideline for play. He never gets involved with anyone working for his professional football team, the New York Mavericks. It hasn't been a hard rule to live by - until Winnie Winslow, the new take-no-shit team physician. She's beautiful, intelligent - and has no problem taking control of every situation. She pisses him off. She turns him on. As tension builds and desire heightens, Wes finds himself wondering how much longer he'll be able to follow his game plan.

An end to the Billionaire Bad Boy era. The series comes to a close. From Kline and Benny to Wes and Winnie with Thatch and Cassie in between, spend time with the characters who have stolen the hearts of both each other and listeners alike, and meet the men of the upcoming spinoff series Mavericks Tackle Love. Contains mature themes.

It's just a docuseries about your career as an OB/GYN, they said. It won't interrupt your life during or after filming, they said. It's a great opportunity for the hospital and your practice, they said. Well, they - the television executives who seem intent on ruining my career and personal life with a fair number of creative liberties - lied. Now I'm stuck dealing with the consequences of believing them. Instead of being known as Dr. Will Cummings, head of obstetrics and gynecology at St. Luke's Hospital, I'm now being called Dr. Obscene.

Note to self - do not bang your best guy friend in the limo on the way to the swanky Vegas hotel. I give myself very good advice. Too bad I suck at taking it. If only Colin and I hadn't drunk so much whiskey, if only I'd kept that red bikini in my suitcase, if only his evil ex-girlfriend hadn't come sniffing around making me feel territorial and protective. Not that my bad boy rock star best friend is any help. Walking around looking ridiculously sexy, telling me I'm perfect in that panty-melting voice of his when we both swore we’d never do anything to put our friendship at risk.

He’s the world’s most alpha Marine and the last man I should be letting jingle my bells this holiday season. But when Clint steps in to rescue me - from a murderous goose, a rogue reindeer, and the ghost of Christmas Right Now causing trouble in my bakery - I can’t help but wonder if we’re meant to be more than friends.

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. 

When I joined Seattle’s NHL expansion team, I thought it was the start of something great. But nothing ever goes the way you expect. Take my introduction to my new neighbor. She came rolling in on the hot mess express at midnight, making a racket while she tried to get into my team captain’s apartment. Did I mention that he’s married to a woman who definitely was not her?

Advice from my future self: Don’t ask your best guy friend to give you nookie lessons. Oops. Too late. I already begged my rock star BFF to give me lessons in seduction. And sweet, strong, always-has-my-back Shep already let me down easy, proving I have zero game, even with people who profess to care about me. Now, I’ll never live down my embarrassment or figure out why I’m a failure with the opposite sex. Or so I assume…until Shep changes his mind, agreeing to three weeks of red-hot study buddy time before he goes on tour and we part ways as friends.

I asked for his criteria for bed buddies - that's the PG version. He swore at me and said he didn’t do groupies. And just like that, our friendship was off to a great start. Reese Forster was the starting point guard for the Seattle Thunder. Gorgeous. Cocky. Loved by the nation. He’s also attending preseason basketball training camp where I used to work.   

Dear Santa: Please bring me a new boss for Christmas. Mine is the worst. The worst, hidden in a six-foot-tall package of male perfection. It’d be easier if he looked like an old Scrooge, wouldn’t it? Nick Saint-Croix doesn’t look like an old scrooge. He’s hot as - um, never mind. Just bring me a new boss. Please. Sincerely, Holly Winter

Jasmine Lee is screwed. She can barely afford her rent, much less her father’s medical bills. She needs cash - fast - or she’s going to lose her dad. Enter Shepard Marlowe. The tech mogul needs a wife, and he’s willing to pay. A million dollars for a year under his beck and call. Her freedom for her father’s life. It’s a good deal. Even if the Shepard is a beast. Angry, guarded, overbearing...and more irresistible than Prince Charming. How is it possible she craves someone so merciless?

I’d never forgotten him - a man I’d yet to meet. Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break. Until one day it did. Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one - one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing. Griffin forgave me, and we were able to rekindle our childhood connection.