Look, I left LA for a reason. I’ve had my fill of big Hollywood stars and their even bigger egos. I want something genuine. Something real. And it doesn’t get any realer than being the new sheriff of Aster Valley, Colorado. That is, until entitled Finn Heller appears on the scene, handing me the keys to his convertible like I’m his personal servant. The former child star and wannabe action hero is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. He’s also a snarky party animal with legions of adoring fans and attitude for days. Or so I thought.

Right as Raine features a rookie NFL player and his unexpectedly adorable live-in chef. The only problem? That chef happens to be the coach's son. And that's a personal foul. 

When Miller Hobbs finds himself on a winter vacation in Colorado with the giant, exceedingly loud, Marian and Wilde families, he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. He’s not really a Marian or a Wilde despite having DNA ties to both. So every morning before the rest of the family wakes up and fills Rockley Lodge with holiday merriment (and noise), he escapes to the quaint downtown of Aster Valley where he spies a man through the bakery window kneading dough and dancing to music only he can hear.

When I rode my bike into Aster Valley, it was supposed to be temporary. A quick, relaxing visit with friends. No entanglements. Zero drama. But then I saw the bumblebee being harassed on the side of the highway. More specifically, I saw Truman Sweet, Aster Valley’s resident botanist, spice merchant, and bee-costume enthusiast, being harassed. 

I've been in love with my best friend since forever. Okay, fine. Like, kindergarten. It started out platonic, obviously, but then became.... Nope. Still platonic. The problem is that Parker Ellis has been straight since forever. And that makes it difficult to convince him that the two of us are meant to be together. And now, there's no point. All is lost. He's gone and gotten engaged to his high-school sweetheart - which means I have to grin and bear it, while pretending to be the happy, supportive best man, while he prepares to commit his life to a woman.

Milo. Unusual. Quirky. Different. I’ve heard it all. I’ve accepted I’m not for everyone. When I find out I inherited a bookstore and apartment on a small East Coast island, I jump at the chance for a new life. Turns out I’ve also inherited a sexy, tattooed guy who not only rents the space next to my store but my apartment too. Gideon. I wasn’t looking for a roommate, but it’s not like I can stay at Milo’s place while he’s banished to a hotel. According to Milo, we’re bestie goals. And if he doesn’t wear pants at home, who am I to complain?

A priceless artifact has gone missing, and King is the only one who can help recover it. Falcon thought nothing could be worse than being forced to work with the egotistical SOB, but he was wrong. Falling for the charming art thief in the middle of an operation is way, way worse.

I didn’t mean to stow away on the yacht, I swear. My first mistake was going home with the jerk at the bar, but in my defense, Prescott said he owned the Worthington - 90 feet of sleek, yachty perfection - and if I could get the chief mate’s job, I’d have an excuse to stay on board and keep avoiding my family and my future. How was I supposed to know he was the owner’s cheating, gold-digging almost brother-in-law, or that I’d end up stuffed in a closet when the ship left the harbor?

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

I don't need anyone's protection. I'm fine. But to appease my sister after a home invasion, I agree to take self-defense lessons. They just so happen to be with a big, muscled former navy SEAL who may or may not be everything I've always daydreamed about but never thought I could have. And he's dead set on looking out for me even when things in my life suddenly get complicated. Between the increasing threats against me and pressure from my wealthy family to be someone I'm not, I'm having a hard time keeping it together.

What’s a four-letter word for an utterly oblivious, totally commitment-phobic, heartbreakingly gorgeous man with a pet pig named Bernadette? That’d be D-U-N-N, as in Dunn Johnson, my very best pal and fishing buddy since I moved to Licking Thicket. What’s a six-letter word for a nerdy, crossword-loving town doctor who’s doomed to be hopelessly, thoroughly, irrevocably, in love with that straight best friend for the rest of his born days? That’s T-U-C-K-E-R, as in me. 

Seth Walker was my first love and I always swore he’d be my last. Even after he moved away our senior year in high school, we vowed to reunite after graduation. But when he suddenly broke things off without explanation and crushed my heart, it was my turn to run. After a decade in the navy, I’ve finally come home ready to move on with my life as Hobie’s newest firefighter. Unfortunately, the minute I set eyes on the new sheriff in town, I know I’m screwed. Hobie’s top cop is none other than Seth Walker. 

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. 

When it comes to hockey, I'm all about the game. I've worked for years to be one of the best in the league, and l've done it without splashing my orientation all over the tabloids. My hockey image is one I've carefully cultivated, and after one night with Ezra Palaszczuk, I risk it all. He's cocky, obnoxious, and has an ego bigger than Massachusetts. And okay, maybe he's the sexiest man I've ever known. We'll never get along. Not when we sleep together. Not even when my possessive streak awakens. That doesn't stop us from falling into bed together over and over again.

I left my family and tiny Texas hometown 15 years ago to escape small-town gossips and to give my mom and sister the chance at a better life. But when a phone call from an attorney back home informs me that my sister passed away, leaving me custody of her newborn baby, I'm shocked out of the steady life I've built for myself running a tattoo shop in San Francisco. The thing is: I don't do babies. And I don't do small towns. Or commitment. And I especially don't do family.