Winnifred "Win" McNulty has always been wildly independent. Not one to be coddled for her limb difference, Win has spent most of her life trying to prove that she can do it all on her own. And, with some minor adjustments, she's done just fine. That is until she has a one-night stand with the incredibly charming Bo, a perfect stranger. And that one night changes everything. While Bo is surprisingly elated to step up to the plate, Win finds herself unsure of whether she can handle this new challenge on her own or if she'll need a helping hand.

When a chance encounter sparks an unlikely bond between rival murderers Sloane and Rowan, the two find something elusive—the friendship of a like-minded, pitch-black soul. From small-town West Virginia to upscale California, from downtown Boston to rural Texas, the two hunters collide in an annual game of blood and suffering, one that pits them against the most dangerous monsters in the country.

Naomi and Luca have been pen-pals since fifth-grade. Well, more like bitter rivals caught in an epic battle of insults and verbal jousting. But what starts as a hilarious chain of hate filled letters, slowly develops into a friendship spanning coasts and years. That is until one day, 12 years later, when the letters suddenly stop. It’s been two years since Naomi last heard from Luca. Two years since the letter that changed everything. But when a new envelope turns up out of the blue at her desk at the local news station, Naomi is determined not to let Luca have the final word.

Wells Whitaker was once golf’s hottest rising star, but lately, all he has to show for his “promising” career is a killer hangover, a collection of broken clubs, and one remaining supporter. No matter how bad he plays, the beautiful, sunny redhead is always on the sidelines. He curses, she cheers. He scowls, she smiles. But when Wells quits in a blaze of glory and his fangirl finally goes home, he knows he made the greatest mistake of his life.

Ever since she sat next to me in class and gave me death eyes, Willa Sutter's been on my shit list. Why she hates me, I don't know. What I do know is that Willa is the kind of chaos I don't need in my tidy life. She's the next generation of women's soccer. Wild hair, wilder eyes. Bee-stung lips that should be illegal. And a temper that makes the devil seem friendly. She's a thorn in my side, a menacing, cantankerous pain-in-the-ass who's turned our business mathematics course into a goddamn gladiator arena. I'll leave this war zone unscathed, coming out on top....