Anonymous

When Tate Collins meets airline pilot Miles Archer, she doesn't think it's love at first sight. They wouldn’t even go so far as to consider themselves friends. The only thing Tate and Miles have in common is an undeniable mutual attraction. Once their desires are out in the open, they realize they have the perfect set-up. He doesn’t want love, she doesn’t have time for love, so that just leaves the sex. Their arrangement could be surprisingly seamless, as long as Tate can stick to the only two rules Miles has for her.

Former soldier. Ex-copper. Current man on the edge. Shunned by his old colleagues, and dividing his time between a dead-end job and the bottom of a whisky bottle, former Police Scotland detective superintendent Bob Hoon’s life is a mess. Then an old face from Hoon’s Special Forces days turns up asking for help: His teenage daughter has been missing for months, the police have drawn a blank, and he needs the kind of help that only Hoon can provide. And besides, Hoon owes him one.

Holden Parish survived his parents' horrific attempts to make him the perfect son. After a year's stint in a Swiss sanitarium to recover, he has vowed to never let anything, nor anyone, trap him again. Brilliant but broken, he seeks refuge behind alcohol, meaningless sex, and uses his wicked sense of humor to keep people away. He only has to ride out one year in the coastal town of Santa Cruz with his aunt and uncle before he inherits his billions and can make his escape and disappear. Falling in love is not in the plans.

Miller Stratton is a survivor. After a harrowing childhood of poverty, he will do anything it takes to find security for himself and his mom. He’s putting all his hopes and dreams in the fragile frame of his guitar and the beauty he creates with its strings and his soulful voice. Until Violet. No one expects to meet the love of their life at age 13. But the spunky rich girl steals Miller’s heart and refuses to give it back.

Cruel. Coldblooded. Hades in a Brioni suit. Cillian Fitzpatrick has been dubbed every wicked thing on planet earth. To the media, he is The Villain. To me, he is the man who (reluctantly) saved my life. Now I need him to do me another small solid. Bail me out of the mess my husband got me into. What’s a hundred grand to one of the wealthiest men in America, anyway? Only Cillian doesn’t hand out free favors. The price for the money, it turns out, is my freedom.

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....

The last thing any man wants to see is the woman of his dreams getting engaged to his brother. I thought I still had time to win Marlena back, but seeing the brother I despise lock his arm around her waist at his engagement party catches me completely off guard.

Kandy: It was love at first sight when I met Mr. Cane. He was handsome, broody, tattooed, and rich. For years, he's been mine. He just didn't know it. I wasn't expecting to fall in love with him, or for him to want me in the ways that he did. None of it was ever supposed to happen, but after all we've done together, it's too late to turn back now. A once harmless crush had blossomed into so much more. Cane: When we first met, she was just a kid - my best friend's daughter. But now, she's a young woman who knows what she wants, and all she wants is me.

She's the girl next door. He's the guy who's loved her from afar. They're in for an unexpected tumble into love. For Stella Allesandro, chaos is good. She's a rising star at a leading sports publicity firm. She's known throughout the industry as the jock whisperer - the one who can tame the baddest of the bad boys in professional sports without losing her signature smile. But Cal Hartshorn is an entirely different kind of chaos.

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.