Tyson Langley thinks the king in Franklin University Kings is in reference to him. Star lacrosse player and God’s gift to the female and male population, there’s nothing the spoiled jock can’t have. It’s impossible for us to be in the same room without talking crap to each other. But I also have a secret…as much as I despise Ty, I want him too. I revel in our banter and in never knowing what he’ll say next. I’ve spent too much time on the wrong side of the law for someone like Ty, though, and if I want to escape my past, he’s a distraction I don’t need.

Xander Corey lives simply, sustainably, on the outskirts of Osprey, a small, quaint town in Upstate New York. He’s a librarian when the town’s budget can afford him, a good friend, kind neighbor, and also, a witch. And while that’s of no concern to anyone around him, there are others, non-humans, who have a vested interest in Xander’s family land. Xander knows something dark and dangerous is brewing. He’s just not quite sure what.

Ari had a game plan for life: shoot people. Get money. Hang out with fellow criminal friends. He saw absolutely no reason to change that plan until one dark night in Memphis, when a little girl reached out to him with pocket change and a desperate plea for him to help her. Adopting an abused little girl off the streets was, needless to say, not part of the plan. Ari had no idea what he was doing with an eight year old. He especially didn’t know how to juggle taking contracts and raising a little girl.

Rowe Prince is a lying liar who windmills into my life in full color, claiming to be Sterling Chase, a quirky, eccentric billionaire…and founder of the company I created. Two can play at the lying game, though, and I’m not about to let some burrito-delivering, floppy-haired virgin from Indiana best me at a game I was born to play.

Moving to London is scary and daunting, but I desperately need this job–and a redo. Okay, so I may have oversold my qualifications. That shouldn’t be a big deal, though. I mean, being an assistant’s assistant seems easy enough, and I’m a fast learner. Hold up! I’m already in over my head with spreadsheets, new pronunciations, and temperamental appliances.

What happens when drunken idiots, aka your friends, use a silly drinking game to sideswipe you and your BFF with the truth bomb that you're actually in love with each other? Truman: You impulsively kiss the best friend you've been in love with for ages . . . then wake up with a hangover—and regrets. Lyle: You freak out because you're not gay or bi, before realizing the kiss wasn't *actually* bad. Then you begin to wonder . . . should we do it again?

It is utter madness for a valet to fall in love with one’s boss. But when that boss is Ignatius Corbridge–my handsome, secretly lonely, utterly wonderful Iggy–one really can’t help it. For decades, I’ve stood by his side, fulfilling my role as his right-hand man, his mentor, his friend. I’ve pressed his suits, arranged his travel, and witnessed a thousand walks of shame as he scratched itch after itch with elite playboys around the globe. Each day, it killed me just a little bit more. So I did what needed to be done for both of us: I quit.

The job at Sunday Orchard was supposed to be temporary. A chance to gain some work experience, to have some fun. I had not expected to be welcomed into a family of gorgeous and weirdly efficient lumberjack-types, or to find purpose in the tiny Vermont town whose claim to fame seemed to be apple-based products and copious amounts of charm. And I most definitely hadn’t expected to fall for Knox Sunday, my grumpy, burly, fifteen-years-older, reluctant roommate, with his infuriating lectures, his hot-as-fire body, his superior attitude - I’ve never been one to put down roots. 

My name is Hudson Newgate, but my teammates call me "New Guy". That was my nickname in Chicago, too. And Vancouver. That’s what happens when you keep getting traded. Brooklyn is my last chance, especially after my poor performance last season.

With the storm and the holidays leaving Hamish with nowhere else to go, Ren kindly offers a place to stay. Hamish is certain he’s crashed right into a Hallmark Christmas movie, despite more car delays and road closures and the prospect of not seeing his sister for Christmas. And with help from Hamish, Ren is beginning to feel a little Christmas cheer. These two unlikely strangers have more in common than they first realise, and after two days of Christmas decorations, cookies, and non-stop conversation, it looks like Christmas might be saved after all.

When fanfic writer Aaron Page landed a temp job with the creator of hit TV show, Leeches, it was only meant to last a week. Three years later, Aaron’s still there. It could be because he loves the creative challenge. It could be because he’s a huge Leeches fanboy. It’s definitely not because of Lewis Hunter, his extremely demanding, staggeringly rude...and breathtakingly gorgeous boss.

Jesse Stone is rebuilding his life. He’s ditched his no-good ex, sworn off men, moved to a new town with his four best friends, and started the pottery business of his dreams. And then he slept with his hunky new neighbor. Oops. Finn Hart knows that pursuing Jesse will ignite old family tensions, but the construction foreman can’t stay away. Can love wash away 20 years of bad blood and bring a new dawn for Jesse, Finn, and all of Hart's Bay?

One thing he's not is a jerk. So when a shy guy at a wedding gives Archer his number, Archer is impressed by his courage in putting himself out there. What starts as a courtesy call to the guy turns into friendship. Eli is awesome, and Archer can't understand why he's single. With the help of his fraternity brothers at Alpha Tau, Archer comes up with the perfect project for the semester: Get Eli Fuller the perfect boyfriend or die trying.

Everett Larkin works for the Cold Case Squad: an elite - if understaffed and overworked - group of detectives who solve the forgotten deaths of New York City. Larkin is different from others, but his deduction skills are unmatched and his memory for minute details is unparalleled. So when a spring thunderstorm uproots a tree in Madison Square Park, unearthing a crate with human remains inside, the best Cold Case detective is assigned the job.

Between running a garage full of beefed-up gear-head mechanics and bailing my idiot brother out of trouble every other week, the last thing I have time for is a relationship. I’ve tried it too many times, and the ridiculous reasons I always find to end it have become a running joke around the garage. But I’ve learned my lesson. No. More. Boyfriends. I don’t care how many times Porter falls asleep drunk in my bed or how cute he looks covered in oil smears while I teach him how to fix up the vintage car he has rusting away in his garage; I’m not going to fall for him.