A brilliant surgeon. A master sculptor. The media touted Dr. Potter as a savior dressed in a crisp suit. I think he’s a vicious madman of jerk-sized proportions. But fate is a wicked tease. Only Dr. Potter can give me what I need. A fresh start. A new identity. But he refused, leaving me to take matters into my own hands by accepting a job as his partner’s new secretary. Dr. Potter can’t turn down my case forever. Or at least I thought so until I uncovered Dr. Potter’s secret. A secret, which came with a venomous warning...one that destroyed everything.

It’s official. I, Ainsley James, am crazy. Desperate and crazy. It’s the only explanation as to why I’m nauseous, standing outside Maverick Lexington’s door. I mean, it’s possible the stories about his deck of playing cards - with the letters IOU scrawled across the back - are just rumors of the ruthless quid pro quo deals he barters. But the flutters in my stomach know better. Maverick is as cold as they come. But, I need one of those cards. I need to owe Maverick Lexington a favor....

No one needs that many hookups! Not even soon to be major league pitcher Theo Von Bremen. So, I help him by routinely thinning out his contact list - because I'm the best roommate ever. And he's optimal baby daddy material. For me - not Amanda one, two, or three. But since the man can't take a hint, I'll continue to spray his sheets with my perfume and accidentally leave my panties in his laundry. That has to be enough to break a man eventually. Right?

Secrets. Lies. Betrayal. Mine and Sebastian’s relationship wasn’t built on the foundation of trust. It was built over war. A ruthless war that exposed who we really were. Enemies. Imposters. And Lovers. Sebastian and I would never be friends—not after what we did. But we could pretend—especially for the million-dollar prize—in a cutthroat film competition that would set our careers in motion. We needed this win to fix our reputations. But that’s not what happened.

Never accept favors from strangers…it’s a mantra every woman shouldn’t live by. Because sometimes, those debts just might pay off in a happily ever after. 21 Rumors is a collection of three full-length stand-alone, romantic comedy novels with crossover characters from each book. In IOU, rumor has it she struck a deal with the bad boy. In The Pretender, rumor has it she struck a deal with the enemy. In The Closer, rumor has it she struck a deal with her husband.

His name is Pestilence. At least, that’s what they called him in college after an outbreak of a certain, ahem, intimately transmitted infection on campus. Now in his thirties, Leo St. James is fully reformed from his playboy past. He has a fiancée and everything. Oh, no, wait. He lied about that. His fiancée doesn’t exist. But when Leo’s boss sees him with his hand cupped around Amelia Darcy’s face, Leo has no choice but to call her his bride-to-be and promise to bring her to his company retreat.

Aurelia Whitlock is an ex-stepsister I forgot long ago. Until she shows up as a design intern at my fashion company. And that's the easy part. The part where she heats my blood, drawing me away from my grumpy, miserable side is another. She has no business being here. The more I learn about how she got this job, the more perilous things become for me and my company. I can't trust her. I can't fire her. And I can't claim her full lips with mine.

It was supposed to be the best day of my life. But the second I got up, things started to fall apart. The kitchen just caught on fire. Flowers were from a funeral. My bride-to-be just had an allergic reaction, leaving by ambulance. Oh, and my ex-girlfriend just walked into the church. They say you have to see the signs when they are right in front of you. Maybe she was just mine to have.

I've been dreading this for a year. Okay, that's a lie. I've been dreading this reunion since we graduated high school 10 years ago. So why am I here, standing outside the door like the eternal wallflower I am? I'd say it's because my younger sister browbeat me into it, but the truth is, I'm tired of being a nobody. Of never taking a risk with myself and my life. And...well...maybe I'm also hoping to see him. The tall, insanely gorgeous man walking my way now. Oliver Fritz is regarded as one of Boston's sexiest doctors. I know him as the former god of our school.

He’s the last person I want to get stuck anywhere with—it’s bad enough that I have to see him every day at work—and yet, because of a booking error (or curse of the universe, as I like to call it), I’m stuck in the same vacation rental with him for an entire week.

Tag Calloway is toxic. If you aren’t in his small inner circle of friends, you’re nothing. An inconvenience at best. And it’s just my luck that my first blind date—heck, my first date since "The Incident"—happens to be with him. I’ve spent years hiding myself from men. From life. Wallowing in guilt and camouflaging my body. I live for one reason. Gigi. The broken-condom accident who has become the singular light of my life. Why did I let my friends talk me into this? He’s the last person I should trust with my feelings. My body. My scars.

Hawk McQuaid is not the guy who stays. He doesn’t do relationships. Especially not with the virgin amputee who accidentally became his nanny during an elevator mishap. But he’s wound himself around my heart.

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.

I’ll be ready to date again…someday…maybe after my boys are in college and I finally have the energy to think about myself. For now, I’m content to stick to my late-night fantasies about a certain coffee-bringing, suit-wearing flirt. At least, that’s what I tell myself until Dillon Freaking Henry shows up on my doorstep in my hometown, demanding that I let him out of the friend zone.

Johnny Decker, #12. Star quarterback for the Boston Tomcats. Two-time Super Bowl MVP...a decade ago. Nickname: "Decker the Panty Wrecker". When we lose our beloved team owner, his estranged daughter inherits the Tomcats. I don’t know which is worse—the fact that she’s a finance nerd from New York who knows less than nothing about football...or that I mistook her for a secretary when we first met. She’s stubborn, uptight, infuriating, looks way too good in a skirt, and she’s wrong about absolutely everything—from pizza to how to run my team.