Everyone in the city knows who I am: Vincent Citrione, top capo of the most powerful crime family in the city. If you’ve got two brain cells to rub together, you’re scared sh*tless of me. As for women, I give them the hardest, dirtiest f*ck of their lives before showing them the door. They know better than to expect more. Commitments? F*ck ‘em. At least, that was my motto until I caught her snooping in the wrong place at the wrong time. Aubriella. I wanted her to be like all the rest of the girls. I wanted to forget her. But I can’t forget her lush curves...

I’m falling for the father of the baby I’m carrying. The problem is: it’s not my baby. And the broody widower is not looking for a long-term partner. As a surrogate, the deal was that I’d only be in England long enough to give birth. At first, the man seemed as pretentious as his name: Sigmund Benedictus. He and I butted heads. Sig challenged my intentions, accused me of just wanting to do this for the money. Gradually, he learned to trust me.

For some reason, my new boss has it out to get me. Innocent little me? I'm just a petite, talented, darling little thorn in his side. Okay, my words, not his. But he can't fire me unless I quit—long story. The joke's on him because I couldn't even quit chewing gum, let alone my dream job. So, I thought I had it handled.

Someone is stalking Audrey Young. And she has no idea why. Complicating matters is her landlord and new neighbor, Josiah Haven. She doesn’t usually go for the big, surly lumberjack type. But there’s something about that broody man. He intimidates her a little, but she kind of likes it. She could totally handle the mess that is her life, except the strange feeling of being watched is just the beginning. Next thing Audrey knows, she’s a target, and she doesn’t know who’s behind it or why. For Josiah Haven, none of that makes her his problem.

Housekeeper for a stunningly handsome, male-model billionaire? Yep, that’s my job and it’s as dreamy as it sounds. I get to live in his ridiculously huge mansion, and all I have to do is take care of his mom and daughter, who are practically family. To top it off, the notoriously bossy Mr. King has been away for business since I started. But he came home today. Liam King looks like he stepped out of a GQ magazine, and the way he undresses me with his eyes should be illegal. He ignites my body. Every part of it. But It doesn’t matter how tempting he is. I can’t have him. 

My fresh start turned into a dumpster fire. Awesome new job. Small town heaven. Friendly faces galore. Then I strolled into my new home and found the unspeakable. Just when I'm sure it can't get worse, I'm “rescued” by a man who makes me see red for miles. Enter Lucas Graves. A bossy grump with a badge who's sworn to keep me safe. He rocks the scary-hot vibe, he reads too much, and he never misses a chance to give me crap for being a nerdy little cactus who mouths back. Not the type of man I'd go for in my right mind. Definitely not the type I should keep trading bruising kisses with.

Laurel Lake held the title America’s Friendliest Town for seventeen years running, and friendly was just what I needed right now. Unfortunately, friendly wasn’t the welcome I got when I arrived. Instead, I got Fox Cassidy. My tall, dark, and burly neighbor, who grunted at me instead of saying hello. Okay, so I might’ve had his mailbox in my hands the first time we met. And it might’ve been a little crushed after removing it from under my tire. And I might’ve needed his help breaking into the place I was staying in after the key broke off in the lock.

The list of reasons I should stay away from my neighbor is about as long as his... wrench. He’s a dirty mechanic, he’s a single dad, and he can’t seem to keep his shirt on for more than five minutes. Did I mention his ex-wife is my best friend? Yeah. Reid Riggins is absolutely, one hundred percent, the last person in the world I should get involved with. Even if he is heart-stoppingly gorgeous with strong, powerful hands that could rip my clothes off with ease. Not that I’ve imagined that, of course.

There’s nothing like getting caught in the middle of an FBI raid to change your life.... That’s what happens to Gabrielle Carpino. Just when she forced herself to move on with life after tragedy touched her family, she finds herself thrown into a tailspin so swift, she can’t find her bearings. 

Dean Sharp is a breathtakingly gorgeous, arrogant, and an asshole. At least that’s my first impression when he knocks out my abusive boyfriend. When we get home, I know my boyfriend’s going to make me pay for what Dean did. But Dean Sharp isn’t done meddling in my life. He grabs me from outside my motel, throws me in his car, and says I’m his hostage. He doesn’t want money, though. He wants me to pretend to be his fiancee so his daughter and brothers don’t suspect anything. And he says he won’t let me go until he’s sure I’ll never go back to my abusive boyfriend.

On a normal day, Emmaline Darling isn’t a car thief. She’s just a simple girl who runs a bookstore and adores cats. But when she’s stranded in the desert and needs to get away from her dangerous ex-boyfriend, she picks her only option: swiping the keys to a famous football player’s Lamborghini and speeding away. Football star Graham Harlan is in chaos. First he took a hit on the field that left him with a near-death experience, and now he’s promised his brother he’ll get married to secure the family inheritance. Trouble is he isn’t even seeing anyone.

Fate. Destiny. Karma.... She’s mine. It all started with a broken heart. And a breakup party. Rock stars. Circus freaks. And a bachelorette party. Too. Much. Booze. An embarrassing tattoo. And a twist of fate. Her name was Danny. I thought she was the one. But then I lost her. And I never thought I’d see her again. Now...I’m a mess. I’ve had my heart broken - more than once. And my band's broken up. I’ve sworn to myself that I’ll never fall in love again. Time to focus on new music and my new band. As soon as I sober up from my latest breakup party.

Ryot Bisley is my husband. Yes, the former third baseman for the Chicago Rebels and absolute heartthrob of the Windy City. That Ryot Bisley. The first time I ran into him, he was grumpy, a horrific host, and left me on his sofa with nothing but a nylon baseball flag to use as a blanket.

It was a heat-of-the-moment agreement scribbled onto the back of a crinkled gas station receipt nine years ago. "If neither of us is married by age 30, we'll marry each other." Haha! So funny! Cash moved to a city 500 miles away, built his billion-dollar empire, and made a name for himself. Me? I stayed in our gossipy hometown, working a simple job and living a simple life. And we never discussed the marriage pact again. But I just turned the big three-oh, and Cash showed up at my door in the middle of a freaking rainstorm. 

You know that instinct to run when something bad is coming? Yeah. I apparently missed out on that one. Because when Damon Rose came, instead of running, I got pregnant.