Tim Reisher is a debonair pilot with a cocky attitude. He is well known throughout the airline community thanks to his penchant for beautiful women. Melissa Hansen is a new member of the National crew with a past she is attempting to escape. When the past does catch up, Tim finds himself caught in the middle. Will the two bring an attacker to justice? Will they lose their hearts to each other in the process?

I never expected to meet a handsome stranger on a family vacation with my brother, Chance, and his wife and son. And I sure as hell didn't expect to hop on a 19-day cruise with said handsome stranger across the Pacific. Hey, you only live once, right? I didn't have the best track record. I'd made some bad decisions in my life and hurt people in the process. For some reason, this trip felt like a new beginning for me; a fresh start to finally get my life back on track. I just didn't plan to fall in love in the process.

I have been called arrogant. Ruthless. Heartless. I don't consider those characteristics to be insults. If I am arrogant, ruthless, and heartless, then people cower down. I make my own rules and call all the shots. I suppose that's why people opt to call me by my last name. Havoc. It's very fitting for me. I wreak havoc on anyone who gets in my way. Right now, that person is a beautiful redhead who refuses to play by my rules. Doesn't she know I'm the only one who's allowed to break them?

I’m probably not the first runaway bride to get discovered hiding in the back of a stranger’s pickup truck. And Maverick should probably dump me on the side of the road and be on his way. Instead, he agrees to give me a ride across the country. I quickly learn that Maverick isn’t just a sexy football star. He’s also bossy as hell with a surprising sweet side. 

He’s back. Jameson Maine. The boy I used to love. The man I love to hate. Hate like it’s a hobby. Like it’s my job. Ironic, since love is my profession. But with the passage of time, I’ve finally healed. Repaired the broken parts his betrayal shattered inside me, and silenced the haunting memories of what he took from me. What he made me give up.

Who does he think he is? What an egotistical executive! Melanie Karlson’s day just took a nosedive when gorgeous and confident Eli Egan walks into her coffee shop. He’s demanding, conceited, and thinks he’s god’s gift to women. After he leaves, she can breathe again thinking it was a one and done situation. Except it's not. A chance encounter leads to a dinner date that neither of them will forget. For more reasons than one. Even though she despises him, he still manages to get under her skin and into her bed.

Only one word can describe the man who performs online as HRD4U.... Filthy. He really knows how to work that massive asset on camera. It’s enough to drive me mad while I watch. Too bad men like HRD4U don’t exist in real life. Apparently, finding a nice guy with a nasty mouth and a mammoth gift between the legs is asking too much. Instead, I just get snooze-inducing lovers and dates with no chemistry. Having my BFF Flynn McAllister right next door helps ease some of the pain of breakup after breakup.

Wall Street Journal best-selling author Nicole Snow returns with a hysterical office romance where the grumpiest boss claims the good girl and loses his scorched heart.

He's cold, hard, and undeniably arrogant. That's how Andrew Blake's best friends describe him. Bad luck for me that I'm his new assistant. Nothing I do is good enough. I'm beginning to wonder if there's a heart in that tall, hard, gorgeous body of his. After work, I'm complaining about him to my new best friend - the bartender at the pub, near the office. Guess who's seated behind me, and has heard every gripe, grumble and grievance? By the look in Andrew's eye, I can't tell if I'm going to get fired or kissed.

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....

It all started with a bet. When my young son inherited half of his great grandfather’s historic inn, I decided to move us both to the place where I grew up. Notice I said half of the Inn. The other half now belonged to Levi Miller, the famous quarterback who had other ideas about what we should do with the property. We won’t mention that I accidentally injured him during our first meeting, causing him to get eight stitches. You could say we got off on the wrong foot. We bickered a lot as we both moved into the property while we figured things out.

Hockey star Max Yearwood was everything I needed at the time - fun, sexy, up for anything, and only around for a few months, since he’d signed with a new team 3,000 miles away. Max proposed we spend the summer helping me forget my ex. It sounded like a good plan. Things couldn’t get too serious when we had an expiration date. Right? Though, you know what they say about the best-laid plans. 

I was hanging with the girls, celebrating my divorce, when I saw him - my crush, sitting in the corner of the bar, all alone. Being single and looking for a wild night, I asked him if he wanted to join me. To my delight, he said yes. On paper, it seemed like I had hit the jackpot. And if I wasn't fresh from a toxic marriage, I would have absolutely noticed the finer things about him. But, I wanted nothing to do with being married, so when I arrived back home from my eventful weekend in Vegas, the last thing I expected to see was a new doting husband already moved in. 

The last person on earth I want to be stranded with is Gianni Lupo. But, thanks to the blizzard of the century, I’m trapped in a roadside motel room with that cocky bastard for two straight days, and with one small bed. Some women might thank Mother Nature for delivering a polar vortex that maroons them with six feet of solid muscle, those deep blue eyes, that sexy grin - but not me. I’ve known Gianni Lupo all my life, and he’s never brought me anything but bad luck, and trouble. I should have known what the disastrous end result would be.

Preston Michael Shaw. PMS, as I like to call him. I don’t need his job. I don’t need his fancy designer suits or his arrogance or his claims that I put a hex on him, because of course a strong, empowered woman needs to put a spell on a man. As if I want him. Pfft. He should be so lucky.