What’s a girl to do after being ditched at the altar by text message? That’s right. Text. Message. How does she pick up the pieces and move on? I’m no Dear Abby but here’s a little free advice.... Advice number one - First, purge your apartment of all things him - by tossing his belongings off the balcony. Advice number two - Do not, I repeat do not, throw anything out into the hallway because you’ll injure your hot new neighbor.

Who’s the mystery woman who's just walked into my brewery? I’m not the only one from my Alaskan small town asking themselves that question. But I’m positive that I’m the only one in Sunrise Bay undressing the pretty blonde in my head. Everything about her, from her make-up to her high heels, says she’s a fish out of water. Whispers and speculations run rampant until the secret of who she is gets uncovered. Then the rumor mill goes into overdrive when she announces she’s staying to open a bookstore in the building next to mine.

Buzz Wheel Press Release: Don’t drink the Lake Starlight water! Bailey babies are busy growing in their mommies tummies and the Baileys are having a triple baby shower to celebrate. If you want in on the pool of who pops first and when contact me. ;)

Lucky. The one adjective used to describe my entire hockey career. I prefer to call it hard work - at least I did until my game went to complete crap. I haven’t scored in eight games, and the team owner is talking about trading me. I’ve never believed in superstitions. Never needed one. I suppose I was “lucky” in that way. But now the best way to refer to me is desperate. I’d wear the same socks for an entire year just to be the high-scoring center I used to be. Imagine my surprise when after spending New Year’s Eve with a woman, I score a hat trick in the next game.

Red flags.... Too loud. Too clingy. Too much make-up. I could go on and on. The other guys in the Single Dads Club would say I'm obsessed with finding them. But none of their kids' mothers call a maximum-security prison home either, so their opinions mean shit. Caterina Santora has her own list of red flags.... She's too young. She's my client's daughter. She's my five-year-old's camp counselor. The fact that she doesn't remember me from six years before grates on me until I don't have it in me to leave her alone any longer.

I can’t borrow him. He’s not a sweater or a skirt. He’s not even her favorite dress - the lucky one she wears on first dates. The one she probably wore on her first date with him. In my defense, I didn’t know who he was. To me, he was a cool, calm, confident stranger. He was perfection for the entire hour-and-a-half train ride, while the concrete jungle turned into a rolling green landscape.

I’ve loved him from afar. Though most times he’s only a foot away. I’m smart enough to know he’ll never be anyone’s forever. He checks all the bad boy boxes. If he wasn’t my neighbor and friend, I may have thrown myself at him. Okay, I wouldn’t. Instead, I pathetically savor morsels of moments where I have his sole attention. That was until his archenemy moved in with me. Now suddenly, Dylan’s moving in, too, and warning off the first guy in a long time who’s showing me interest.

Who knew sleeping with the enemy could be this much fun? In my defense, I had just moved back into my grandparent’s house. I’d lost my dream job, and a guy on Tinder had stood me up. It was like life had suddenly stamped ‘LOSER’ on my forehead. So, when the guy behind the bar started giving me the look....you know, the one....You don’t bother to figure out what your six degrees of separation are. You jump on that horse, and ride it! By the time I’d figured out who the bartender was, I was already falling for him.

I knocked up my best friend's sister. Let's start with how she decided to inform me and Pacey the news...together. Imagine that nightmare. I was going into what I thought was a hockey marketing meeting, and then bam! I'm going to be a dad and my best friend/teammate is attempting to imprint my face with his fist. Threats were tossed around, friendships were revoked, and then I was marched up to her apartment, suitcases in hand, and forced to live with her so I could take care of her every need. Now I'm finding it harder and harder not to fall for my best friend's little sister.

Grace Miles misses her easy friendship with Asher, but growing up means growing apart. And really, how could he fall for her when they spent their childhood getting muddy in the creek and splitting sticks of gum?But this summer, something feels different. If Grace didn’t know better, she’d think Asher was flirting with her. Those dark eyes, hard body, and wicked smile make her insides swirl and her heart dare to hope for things she’s convinced herself she’ll never have. Falling for your best friend shouldn’t be complicated, but for Asher, loving Grace is anything but simple.

My heart opens to Cooper Haywood the moment we meet. How can it resist? He's charming, devastatingly handsome, and sweeps me off my feet before I realize the impact he's making. And then it's too late. We fall too fast to worry about the consequences. We love so hard that we ache when we're apart. Even though I have a past that still haunts me and he has a future that could put us at risk, none of that matters when we're together. Until it does. And then everything changes.

He's a billionaire heir. A grump supreme. Hater of people. Bigger hater of peopling with people. And my new fake boyfriend. "Emotionally unavailable" doesn’t even begin to describe Hayes Rutherford. He has more defenses than a nuclear missile silo. And he’s the ultimate catch of the century. At least, according to his bank statement. My job’s simple: Keep all interested ladies away from the walled-off heir, by pretending to be his one true love. But you know what they say about fake-dating a billionaire: It’s all fun and games, until the scandals start.

Being a veteran quarterback means I’m a mentally alert, fine-tuned athletic machine who can make split-second decisions. It’s my job to anticipate what’s going to happen next. But I couldn’t have anticipated the death of our beloved team owner, or his estranged daughter, Hannah Strong, inheriting the Boston Tomcats. She’s stubborn, uptight, infuriating, and wrong about absolutely everything. I can’t stop arguing with her. Or thinking about her. And I don’t want to talk about how good she looks in a skirt. Or how good she’d look out of it. Really, I don’t.

Begging my brother’s best friend - a.k.a NHL superstar Ian Fox - to help me ditch my V-card wasn’t part of my “make it big in NYC” plans. But after years of being “cute little Evie”, I’m tired of waiting for Mr. Right. I’m ready for Mr. Right Now, and Ian is everything I’ve ever wanted in a first time. He’s kind, funny, confident, and has a legendary stick.... And yes, my brother will murder us if he finds out, but we’re both grown-ups. We can keep a secret. We have to, since I just landed an art-therapy job working with his troubled team. 

I've been dreading this for a year. Okay, that's a lie. I've been dreading this reunion since we graduated high school 10 years ago. So why am I here, standing outside the door like the eternal wallflower I am? I'd say it's because my younger sister browbeat me into it, but the truth is, I'm tired of being a nobody. Of never taking a risk with myself and my life. And...well...maybe I'm also hoping to see him. The tall, insanely gorgeous man walking my way now. Oliver Fritz is regarded as one of Boston's sexiest doctors. I know him as the former god of our school.