Imagine being trapped in a fake romance with the one person you vowed to avoid at all costs.Here I am, doing just that with none other than Nick Zachary, New Zealand’s “wild boy of rugby” himself. Player on field and off, Nick’s the last person I’d date in a million years. I may be in this thing to repair his tarnished rep, but while I’m being photographed on his arm I can raise the profile of my fledgling fashion designs. It’s a win-win—if I can stomach the public PDAs with a guy with more abs than brain matter. As if playing make-believe with Nick isn't challenging enough,...

I fell in love with Mr. Darcy on a reality TV show. Cue the happily ever after. Can you believe it? Me, Emma Brady, the girl who managed to turn reality TV humiliation into a real-life fairy tale, has fallen head over heels for my own Mr. Darcy while the entire nation watched. Yep, I'm the living proof that even the most unlikely of matches can light up the screen. And guess what? Hold onto your tiaras because now my Mr. Darcy has gone and proposed, complete with a promise of happily ever after in his posh English manor. Cue the confetti cannons and unicorns, right? Not so fast. Life ...

What do you do when you find yourself falling for the wrong guy on a reality TV dating show? Welcome to my world. I'm Phoebe Wilson, ultimate hopeless romantic. I mean, I've devoured Pride and Prejudice so many times that even Jane Austen would give me a high-five. So, when the chance to be on the reality TV show “Dating Mr. Darcy” popped up, it was a total no brainer for me. It’s Mr. Darcy, people! The embodiment of romantic perfection. But there’s a hitch. My heart has taken a detour to the guy standing in the wings. That's right, I'm falling for Mr. Darcy’s best friend, Mr. ...

Making a pact with my friends to marry the next guy I date is a huge mistake. You see I’ve given up on love. I got burned and came second best, and now I’m over it. Dating, men, looking for The One, all of it. I’m done. And even if I hadn’t given up on love, I have an impressive list that shows how terrible I am at choosing the right guy. The emotionally unavailable ones. The ones who don’t choose me back. The ones who steal my shoes (true story). But then Marcus Hann walks into the Cozy Cottage Café and I forget all the reasons. Because oh, my. Handsome, funny, charming, and ...

When it comes to men, I am totally committed to not being committed. But here’s the thing. I’m pushing 30. Hard. I know it’s not exactly old, but it’s not young, either. As cliché as it is, my biological clock is ticking louder than a clap of thunder. But more than that, I’m lonely. I want what my friends have. I want love. So, one evening, my besties and I agree to a pact to marry the next guy we date. Chardonnay may have been involved. Lunacy definitely was. I mean, what’s a commitment phobe doing agreeing to a pact like that? It’s a question I’ve asked myself a bunch of ...

Taking the bull by the horns is child's play compared to ruling Malveaux. Yet here I am, a Texas girl turned princess, swapping tacos for a tiara. Then I meet Europe's most eligible bachelor, the irritatingly handsome Prince Alexander, and accidentally deck him instead of curtsying. Oops. I'd feel bad if he wasn't such a self-satisfied jerk. Now, I'm racing against a royal clock that ticks with the urgency of a preening peacock, trying not to let down my newfound country or my own wild heart. Alexander?

When I get dumped during the romantic vows at a wedding, I hit rock bottom. It’s time I got serious about finding a decent man. So, I form a dating pact with two friends who are just as bad at choosing men as me. We agree to vet one another’s dates to weed out the weirdos and jerks. The no more bad dates pact is officially born.

Nothing good ever comes from drinking a box of wine alone. So when I decided to entertain my drunken self by setting up some hand-me-down podcasting equipment and reading the steamy parts from romance novels, I never thought anyone would actually listen. The fact that I admitted my huge crush on my sexy next door neighbor made the whole thing even more mortifying. But sometimes life surprises you, and that’s how my podcast, Heidi’s Discount Erotica, was born. Now I, Heidi Larsen, a sweet former kindergarten teacher in Waconia, Minnesota, lead a scandalous double life.

Ever since his career-ending injury, Pat has bounced from job to job, idea to idea, short-lived relationship to short-lived relationship. But when his father purchases the town of Sheet Cake, Pat suddenly sees his life with clear purpose: get his brothers on board with his dad's wild idea and win back the one woman who got away. Lindy was supposed to be traveling the world, not stuck in a small town, caring for her niece. But she would do anything to keep custody of Jo, even if that looks like a marriage of convenience with the man who already broke her heart once.

They say Paris is always a good idea.... You know what I say? Paris would be a much better idea if I spoke the dang language. I can't even board the metro to visit the Louvre without ending up at the Moulin Rouge, and let's not even mention how I'll ever make it through a day at my new office. Fortunately my company hooks me up with my own personal translator. Ooh la la. Or should I say bloody hell? Because he's charming, witty, and British, and he brings the city to life for me.