Christmas is bad enough without all the music, frantic shopping sprees, and holiday parties. So many parties… with people you couldn’t stand in high school and definitely can’t stand now. Top of the list? Patty Harrison. She made my teen years miserable and, now that we’re adults, she’s trying to get me banned from the Christmas market. Even so, I’m not going to commit literal murder.

When your grandmother stalks the star hockey player on the rival team because “You need a husband, Dakota—you’re not getting any younger!” it’s Christmas crazy on ice.

I admit it was me who shouted, “Looking good, hot stuff!” at Mr. Richmond this morning, but I didn’t mean it like that. Yes, Mrs. HR Lady, I know how it looks. Believe me, I am totally anti-catcalling, but that’s not what that was. Honest. I was paying him a compliment! That’s kind of what I do: I’m a proud, small-town Floridian, and Manhattan is craving some Florida sunshine—nothing like a sincere compliment to turn those New York frowns upside down!

Welcome to life as a wedding planner for the rich and entitled of Manhattan. I’ve seen it all - from the nastiest bridezilla to the most overindulged billionaire. And Evan is the worst. Tall, dark, and handsome, he has a ridiculously ripped body under his formal suit and runs a massive hedgefund that’s actively making the world a worse place. I don’t even feel sorry for him when he walks away from the alter in a daze

As your paralegal (and ex), I have to be honest: You’re a horrible lawyer. Honestly, the worst I’ve ever seen. You never communicate, you pile on overtime, and you’re constantly in a bad mood. Now, about those panties on your desk. No, that wasn’t a desperate cry for your attention. It was the result of a lost bet with my roommate. But if you were even half the lawyer you claim to be, you’d have figured that out without all the ego-tripping.

Armed with comfy pants, overpriced coffee, and a highly anxious emotional-support corgi, I prepare to face him. Corporate boss. Villain. Salinger Svensson. I step into his office. His perfect mouth twists into a sneer. There is no heart of gold beneath that suit, just a big black pit. He’s a shark in the frothy waters of high-stakes finance. He might be the archetypal-asshole CEO, causing all in his path to quake in fear, but he’s never had to face down a basic bitch in her thirties.

As a scruffy, disorganised daydreamer, Lucy Mayweather is like a fish out of water at the high-powered offices of her brother’s billionaire best friend. When she agreed to work for Felix, she had no idea quite how cut-throat his world–or he–would be. She just wanted to escape her reclusive life and be close to her childhood crush, hoping he might notice her. But Lucy’s lonelier in London than she’s even been in her tiny village back home.

I’ve known him since we were six, long before he became the professional soccer star he is now. We’ve weaved in and out of one another’s lives as rivals, teammates, friends, and lovers. Until three years ago, when my life took a hit, and I ran back to my small Alaskan town, Lake Starlight, away from anything or anyone that could hurt me.

After the stunt my ex pulled, no one would blame me if I swore off men forever, especially one like Mr Jay Anderson, Hollywood’s sexiest heartthrob. Maybe undressing me with his striking blue eyes as I perform the safety demonstration on a flight to LA is normal behaviour for him. Maybe not. But I know one thing for sure, he should come with a warning label. Because once you meet a man like Jay Anderson, there is no going back.

Eriu Quinn is off-limits. Too young. Too innocent. And far too forbidden. Her father is the head of the Irish Mob. And I'm just her bodyguard tasked to keep her safe. She's my job, but she's also a maddening temptation. One I need to stay away from. But I underestimate that feisty little spitfire. She creeps under my skin. Pushes all of my buttons. Until I unravel...

Our first kiss was a lie. Our second was a mistake. And the night we spent tangled up in each other? Hot as hell, but a complete disaster.

The Ivanov family exudes wealth and power, so when its founder shows up on the surgical roster of a third-year resident, even with me not laying eyes on her previously, I’m thrust under their spotlight. Her son’s, to be precise. Maksim Ivanov is a walking red flag. He oozes confidence, and appears to have never been told no, but despite our differences, sparks ignite the moment we trade sultry glances. The tension is white hot. I’ve never experienced such an immediate mutual connection. But as quickly as his mother was placed under my care, she is removed.

When you kiss your perfect boyfriend under the mistletoe...only for your cousin scream to the family that you stole her man, you realize that you will never again have a merry Christmas. In my defense, I didn’t know my boss—yup, boss. Buckle up because this is messy—was my cousin’s newly minted and totally lying fiancé. I thought he was the Nutcracker Prince come to finally show my family that I, too, was worthy of putting the star atop the Christmas tree.

Easton Calloway needs a wifey, pronto, and he chooses me to temporarily fill the position. While I want to tell him to eff off, I can't walk away from the temptation. So, I do what any broke actress living in New York City would do, and I agree to the terms and conditions. It should be easy: a year of marriage, a cushy penthouse in the city, and a spending allowance. After three hundred sixty-five days, I'll receive divorce papers and a check in the mail. All I have to do is pretend we're happily married without falling in love.

In my perfect world, it would always be winter and never Christmas. I despise the holiday. I hate carols, shopping, and pretending to be a perfect family. I walked away from my family, or rather, they walked away from me. My heart is like ice. See it creeping up the walls. Oh, wait, no, that’s royal icing.

I admit it was me who shouted, “Looking good, hot stuff!” at Mr. Richmond this morning, but I didn’t mean it like that. Yes, Mrs. HR Lady, I know how it looks. Believe me, I am totally anti-catcalling, but that’s not what that was. Honest. I was paying him a compliment! That’s kind of what I do: I’m a proud, small-town Floridian, and Manhattan is craving some Florida sunshine—nothing like a sincere compliment to turn those New York frowns upside down!

When your grandmother stalks the star hockey player on the rival team because “You need a husband, Dakota—you’re not getting any younger!” it’s Christmas crazy on ice.

When you kiss your perfect boyfriend under the mistletoe...only for your cousin scream to the family that you stole her man, you realize that you will never again have a merry Christmas. In my defense, I didn’t know my boss—yup, boss. Buckle up because this is messy—was my cousin’s newly minted and totally lying fiancé. I thought he was the Nutcracker Prince come to finally show my family that I, too, was worthy of putting the star atop the Christmas tree.

I kept smiling when I caught my fiancé coming down my sister’s chimney on Christmas Eve. I gave polite congratulations when they got engaged. And I even offered to help decorate for their Christmas wedding despite the fact that was supposed to be my dream wedding. But when my sister cuts up my great-grandmother’s one-hundred-year-old wedding dress and turns it into a skank show, even though that was the dress I was going to wear on my wedding day? Well, this elf is torching down the North Pole.

The only thing we have in common is that we’re both tall. He wears bespoke suits; I wear flats with holes in them. He runs a big shot investment firm; I’m trying to start my own company with only bubble gum and circus peanuts. He likes to show up at my horrible dates and ruin them; I…pretended I hated when he did that but secretly was thrilled even though it was a little young adult fiction.

I know I'm lucky to have a mate at all. Most would rejoice. Most would run to them. Not me. I want to stay with my family. I was trapped in the veil for the majority of my life, fighting to survive. And I'm supposed to leave them for a man I don't know? I'm tired of Fate making the decisions for me. Yet . . . The ache in my chest becomes too much. The thirst in my throat becomes unbearable. The need to mate is a call I can no longer ignore. Even if I've never touched or kissed another. How will I satisfy him?

Rules are meant to be broken. Except for one: Women can't get enough peonies. Even the girl in front of me in line is admiring the peonies in my hand. While I need these particular flowers for my latest plot, I'll still give Meghan the biggest, thickest bouquet I can find. It's flattering how much she wants my peonies. And I don't mind personally delivering.

The Ivanov family exudes wealth and power, so when its founder shows up on the surgical roster of a third-year resident, even with me not laying eyes on her previously, I’m thrust under their spotlight. Her son’s, to be precise. Maksim Ivanov is a walking red flag. He oozes confidence, and appears to have never been told no, but despite our differences, sparks ignite the moment we trade sultry glances. The tension is white hot. I’ve never experienced such an immediate mutual connection. But as quickly as his mother was placed under my care, she is removed.

Anyone but her. Eva Adams—the entitled, picture-perfect cheer princess. Incapable of empathy, patently manipulative, and absolutely beautiful. I can't afford her drama—I just want to play my last year of hockey without being kicked out of TU, but there she is on my first day back. Crying. In a weak moment, I make her an offer. An agreement I never thought she'd take. Except she surprises me, and now I'm faced with a dilemma. Protect my secrets… or win the girl.

A scorching one-night stand with a stranger was supposed to be my night of adventure to enjoy and move on. I didn't expect that a few weeks later my friend would introduce said stranger as the man walking her down the aisle because he's her godfather and uncle. And I certainly didn't expect him to be a famous football coach who insists I escape with him to his small town lake house for a rendezvous. He may be old enough to be my dad, but the man's charisma is a winning touchdown straight to my lust-filled mind that agrees.

Welcome to life as a wedding planner for the rich and entitled of Manhattan. I’ve seen it all - from the nastiest bridezilla to the most overindulged billionaire. And Evan is the worst. Tall, dark, and handsome, he has a ridiculously ripped body under his formal suit and runs a massive hedgefund that’s actively making the world a worse place. I don’t even feel sorry for him when he walks away from the alter in a daze

As a scruffy, disorganised daydreamer, Lucy Mayweather is like a fish out of water at the high-powered offices of her brother’s billionaire best friend. When she agreed to work for Felix, she had no idea quite how cut-throat his world–or he–would be. She just wanted to escape her reclusive life and be close to her childhood crush, hoping he might notice her. But Lucy’s lonelier in London than she’s even been in her tiny village back home.

They call him the beast. The savage. Feral monster. Kept as a pet by the cruel Barbarian Empress since childhood, Rolan has been granted his freedom and given a bride to call his own. Another like him, he is told—covered from head to toe with fur-like hair. Ugly like him. An outcast. A pariah, hated by a society that accepts no differences. But he won't hate her. After all he's endured, she will be a welcome cure to his loneliness.

In my perfect world, it would always be winter and never Christmas. I despise the holiday. I hate carols, shopping, and pretending to be a perfect family. I walked away from my family, or rather, they walked away from me. My heart is like ice. See it creeping up the walls. Oh, wait, no, that’s royal icing.

Crash-land on an alien barbarian planet and told there’s no way home? Anyone else might have a nervous breakdown, but I was abducted with my besties! Between us, we have fifteen PhDs. We will be getting off this planet. Trust. Two liquid hydrogen rockets and a smidge of deep-space travel later, and we’re back home on Earth. Except that our spaceship had stowaways. Now there’s a seven-foot-tall alien named Cassius in my Los Angeles condo. He’s calmly explaining that, according to the ancestors, we are to be eternally mated and have a litter of children.