Twelve years ago, I thought I had everything figured out: I’d go off to college, get my marketing degree, come back to my charming little hometown, help my high school sweetheart build his carpentry business, and live happily ever after. Instead, on the eve of my college departure, Slater Goode (henceforth known as The Devil) ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped all over it. But I don’t care about that anymore. At. All. Then I get some news: The Devil’s grandfather, whom I love as if he were my own, has passed away, and missing his funeral is not an option.

I have one rule when it comes to my sex life: I only hook up with guys who identify as straight. It’s a tried and tested way of avoiding the cling factor, which I’ve found to be a huge problem in the past. A one-night stand with a curious "straight" guy is the perfect situation. Of course, there’s one straight guy who’s completely off-limits. George Goode is sweet, charming, hilarious, and sexy as hell. And he’s also become one of my best friends since I moved to the tiny town of Finchley about a year ago. But let’s make one thing clear: I do not have feelings for him.

It starts as a simple favor. Now that he’s home from college, my best friend’s brother Tucker needs a place to stay, and I happen to have a spare room. Then it becomes a confession. Tucker tells me he’s a virgin. And he’s on a mission to swipe that V card once and for all. While Tucker searches for the perfect guy to pop his cherry, I find myself growing more agitated with the situation. He’s my best friend’s brother, a kid I’ve watched grow up; it’s normal for me to want to protect him. It has nothing to do with the way my stomach flips at the sight of his smile.

This week hasn’t gone the best for me unless you count Casimir, the sexy ancient vampire, bringing me back from the brink of death (and tying my fate to his in the process). Not that it matters if the werewolves and vampires don’t stop their ridiculous feud, because someone is targeting them and widening the divide between our communities with each body they leave in their wake. But as the alpha’s son, I have a plan to fix everything. I’m going to convince Casimir to fake date me to show the others that we can work together. I mean… what could go wrong?

Sometimes I want to punch that smirk off Atlas McCallister's pretty face. He's cocky. A troublemaker. A pain. And, unfortunately, my stepbrother. We've been fire and kerosene since our parents got together, and to keep from exploding into fistfights, we've used challenges, dares, and bets to battle out our differences. Our past bets have been a little inappropriate—scandalous, even—but Atlas's latest bet has gone too far. Do I really believe if he loses, my straight stepbrother is gonna mess around with a guy? And not just any guy: me, his rival and nemesis?

Renowned cardiologist Carter Rogers is used to having things under control. His life, his prestigious reputation, his career, his future.

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?

Being a hit man has its perks, but I never thought getting an accidental mooning by an attractive PI while he’s caught on a fence would be one of them. While it’s not exactly love at first sight, he’s captured my interest and won’t let go. Suddenly, I find myself caught in a game of cat and mouse, determined to attract the attention of Jackson, the PI who should be my enemy. He pretends like he’s not flattered by my flowers and the mentions of my totally-not-fictitious blow-up doll, Randy (or was it Dandy?), but I know better.

Ever since we met two years ago, Eden Burkehammer has made everything better. The big defenseman sets me at ease. He’s a beast on the ice—brutal and physical—but when it’s the two of us, he turns to me with these unexpectedly soft brown eyes. This gravelly laugh that makes my whole body smile. And yeah, I might have thrown a glance his way a time or two in the steamed-up locker room showers—you know, just curious. But he’s my best friend. My teammate. Roommate. I don’t want to mess with that. Just the thought of losing him sends a cold zap the full length of my spine.

Finn is smart, adorkable, and his shyness pushes all my buttons. The problem? My interest in him quickly shifts from friendship to something less than platonic. Feelings I’ve been pushing down for years bubble up to the surface, and I find myself unable to see him as just a friend or keep my hands to myself. When a night out leads to some extracurricular fun, Finn and I decide to have a no-strings-attached fling. He’s the perfect person to explore my bisexuality with, and our chemistry is off the charts.

His own marriage was a whirlwind affair that ended before the ink could dry on the wedding certificate. Nevertheless, even with his divorce pending, he’s getting by. Or at least he was until he finds himself snowed in at a remote Scottish hotel with the wedding party from hell, a terrible ABBA tribute band, and his soon-to-be ex-husband.

Payne. In search of: Room to rent. Must ignore the patheticness of a 40-year-old roommate. Preferably dirt cheap as funds are tight (nonexistent). There’s nothing sadder than moving back to my hometown newly divorced, homeless, and lost for what my next move is. When my little brother’s best friend offers me a place to stay in exchange for menial duties, I swallow my pride and jump at the offer. I need this. I also need Beau to wear a shirt. And ditch the gray sweatpants. And not leave his door ajar when he’s in compromising positions...

My path to success never included an enemy as a teammate, especially one as infuriating as Quinton de Haas. Clawing under my skin is his favorite pastime, only feeding the animosity between us as the years pass. We’re as completely opposite as two people can be; the golden boy and the black sheep. Constantly at odds or at each other’s throats. The only thing we can agree on is hockey is our true love, and we’ll do whatever it takes to come out on top. I never imagined that drive would lead me to do the unthinkable: falling into bed with my not-so-straight rival.

I have to stop replaying the one night I spent with my rival. Trouble is, that white-hot encounter with the other quarterback answered a lot of questions I’ve had about myself, but it also led me into this mess where he hates me. I never showed up for our second date. Since, well, life happened, and the worst part is he’ll never know how much that night meant to me.

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.