June Tucker doesn’t understand people. Numbers, data, and statistics? Those make sense. People? Not so much. In a town of Friday night fighters and moonshine-swilling line dancers, she’s the odd duck. And that suits her just fine. But her sister and friends are pairing off, and the change is unsettling. George “GT” Thompson was at the top of his game — one of the best receivers in football. But a career-ending injury sidelined him for good. Now he’s hoping to find relief in the healing waters of this tiny West Virginia town. 

All those years of adolescent fantasies and this was how Bowie Bodine first touched my boobs. And he apologized. Real life was stupid and unfair. Small town deputy Cassidy Tucker’s dating life is a train wreck on repeat. All she ever wanted was a solid partner. A man to share pajamas with. Cassidy’s officially giving up on love and adopting cats. Good thing the cold case disappearance of Callie Kendall is heating up to keep her distracted. Except the investigation is testing her friendship with all the Bodines - Bowie in particular.

Raised by her three overbearing brothers, Scarlett is a hell-raising tomboy with a tool belt. A tornado stirring up trouble everywhere she goes. Her favorite pastimes? Drinking any man under the table and two-stepping. But she has zero interest in love. Scarlett’s only being neighborly when she claims her sexy next-door neighbor as her new pet project.

Grace Miles misses her easy friendship with Asher, but growing up means growing apart. And really, how could he fall for her when they spent their childhood getting muddy in the creek and splitting sticks of gum?But this summer, something feels different. If Grace didn’t know better, she’d think Asher was flirting with her. Those dark eyes, hard body, and wicked smile make her insides swirl and her heart dare to hope for things she’s convinced herself she’ll never have. Falling for your best friend shouldn’t be complicated, but for Asher, loving Grace is anything but simple.

The Asher Bailey who comes home to his quirky small town isn’t the same man who put a ring on Grace’s finger. He’s bigger, harder, haunted. Forced to give up Grace and everything else that was good in his life for a prison sentence he barely survived. Now that he’s home, he finds himself aggressively welcomed by his brothers and gleefully gossiped about by his neighbors. He’d counted on both. But he never expected to see Grace still wearing his ring. Grace’s fairy tale didn’t end. It was interrupted. 

Dean Moser is a cocky stock market savant whose friends are all settling down, leaving Boulder's infamous ladies' man all alone. When Norah needs a fake date for her parents' anniversary party, her new silent investor is the perfect guy for the job. It seems like a foolproof plan.... That is until Norah decides to break her biggest rule and lock lips with Dean in the middle of the party to spite her meddling mother.

He’s my brother’s best friend, the hot single dad next door. And one accidental sext later, my massive crush on him is no longer a secret. It’s my own damn fault. I’m 30 years old, for heaven’s sake. I’m a kindergarten teacher and a (reasonably) responsible adult. I should know better than to get tipsy and draft a fake text listing all the dirty things I wish Officer Cole Mitchell would do to me.  I wasn’t supposed to hit send. And he wasn’t supposed to see it.

I got her fired. Okay, so I’d had a bad day and took it out on a bystander in a pizza shop. But there’s nothing innocent about Ally Morales. She proves that her first day of her new job in my office, after being hired by my mother. So, maybe, her colorful, annoying, inexplicably alluring personality brightens up the magazine’s offices that have felt like a prison for the past year. Maybe, I like that she argues with me in front of the editorial staff. And maybe, my after-hours fantasies are haunted by those brown eyes and that sharp tongue.

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.

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.   

When Blair Beaufort literally crashes into Bellamy Creek wearing a ball gown and a tiara, I should have towed her car, said goodnight, and sent her packing. I’m a mechanic, not a hotel manager. I've got enough on my plate trying to keep my shop from going under, my overbearing mother off my back, and my baseball team in contention for the league championship. I don’t have time for a former debutante with zero street smarts and a cash flow problem, even if she is crazy beautiful. But I know better than to think it can last. She wants a fairy tale, and I’m no prince.

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.

Annabel and I have been close since college. When I left school to play pro football, she was there. While I collected Super Bowl rings and cars worth more than the house I grew up in — she was there. I always assumed we’d end up together. Everyone did. But by the time I retired from football, Bel was married. I thought I’d missed my shot at love. 

Raquel and Harrison sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes a baby in the baby carriage. That's how her brother used to sing it when we were kids - a simple ploy to get under my skin and make me stick my fist in his face - but man oh man, did he get the order wrong. 

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.