When you've been told your whole life that something is sinful, you have two options. Avoid it like the plague, like it has the power to destroy all that is good and pure. Or become as fixated upon it as Eve was upon that apple. I'm sick of the push-pull of terror and temptation. It's tearing me apart. I just want a bite of the apple. More than a bite. I want to devour it. Have its juices spill from my lips. And by apple, I, of course, mean sex.

I've been faithful long enough. I never claimed to be a good man, but I've always done what was expected of me. Find a nice girl. Get married. Have children. That was my duty as a good Christian man. And everything was going as planned when I met Briar. Beautiful. Charismatic. Sexy. But marriage is hard, and after seven years, I feel like I'm failing. Then, a figure from my past enters the picture.

Killian Barclay has had enough heartache to last a lifetime, and he has no more need for love—earning him the reputation of a broody Scot and eventually turning his famous ancestral home into a den of iniquity. It doesn't take long for tales of his raunchy house parties to reach the rest of his family, though, inspiring them to hatch a plan to shake Killian out of his routine.

I hate Dante Moretti. He is cold, calculating, and vicious. It’s no secret that he wiped out his former fiancée and her entire family on the eve of their wedding. He’s the kind of evil that makes even devils cry. But that’s not why I hate him.

I never planned to give my V-card to a gorgeous stranger I met at a bar. But for once I didn't let myself overthink things. In the few hours we spent together, he managed to push me outside my comfort zone. And I loved every second. I never expected to see him again. Let alone sitting at the head of the boardroom table during my architectural firm's pitch to design his new hotel chain.

I'm kidnapped by the Tailors, a rival gang that wants my entire family wiped off the face of the earth. After spending a couple of weeks experiencing hospitality in the Tailors very own dungeon, I'm really regretting my life choices up to this point. Then in walks a tall stranger, with bright hazel eyes, and something in me stirs, growing stronger as I meet each of the Tailor boys. Aeron, the heir to the Tailor name and a dark devil.

My name is Rachel Price, and two months ago, I walked away from the perfect man. Sweet and funny, and so hot it should be illegal—we shared one magical night. No names. No strings. I never thought I'd see him again. I was wrong. It turns out Mr. Perfect is the playboy grinder for the Jacksonville Rays, the NHL's hottest new hockey team . . . and I'm his new physical therapist. Oh, and the jerk doesn't even recognize me!

I’m out for revenge. He’s out to rule the world. Kirill and I are as different as day and night. We shouldn’t have been in the same frame or universe. But we meet under the strangest circumstances. He’s my superior in the military and the man who’ll introduce me to carnage.

Running away from home at 17 wasn't easy. Let's face it, though, nothing before or in the ten years since has ever been easy for me. And I'm doing okay—sorta. I just need to keep scraping by, living under the radar. Staying out of people's way, off people's minds. When a man walks through my open patio door, stepping boldly into my home and my life, I should be scared, frightened, terrified. I must be more broken than I realized because I'm none of those things. I'm intrigued—and I'm wondering if the way to take control of my life is by giving in to him.

I should have run the other way. Paid my tab and gone back to my room. But he was there. And he was…everything. I figured, what’s the harm in letting passion rule my decisions for one night? So what if he looks like the Devil in a suit? I’d be leaving in the morning, flying home to my pleasant but predictable life. I’d never see him again. Except I do. In the last place I expected. And now everything I’ve worked so hard for is in jeopardy.

With green eyes and an easy smile, Frank McCabe stole me away from the nightmares that awaited me at home. But the son of the Irish Mob would never be mine. I belonged to the Italians. And the moment my mother sold me to the head of the Italian Mafia, I became the one the people of Boston were warned about. The only person more feared than me in our city is the Irish Ghost. When I finally flee my marital prison with my sons and my sister in tow, I unwittingly run straight into the ghost of the Irishman who died in a fiery explosion years ago.

Jessie Heaton is a fearless, flame-haired computer hacker. Independent and feisty, she’s relied on no one but herself since the age of sixteen. Working for the Russians, she is finally close to getting the one thing she wants most in life, when she’s stopped in her tracks by the notorious Ryan brothers. The Ryans are Irish Mafia. They are unstoppable. No one stands in their way. And nothing comes between a Ryan and his family. That is, until the hurricane that is Jessie crashes into their lives.

I’ve been raised to be the perfect mafia wife, but when my marriage turns into a horrific nightmare, I have no choice but to leave everything behind and start a new life. I find myself alone in Ibiza—a place that swallows innocent girls like me alive. I’m robbed the day I arrive, left with nothing but a few euros and the clothes on my back.

Since the Final War, I’ve been doing just fine. I have a lovely cave, a darling vegetable patch, forest views . . . and if loneliness sometimes squeezes my aching heart, well, my books have always kept me company. That is, until a pack of hunters chase me from my home and right into the arms of several rather large, rather brutish ex-Army Rangers. And those brutes have the nerve to make me the rudest offer I’ve ever heard. Their protection—for my body.

“Give me a second chance, babe . . . and I’ll blow your mind.” Monroe doesn’t know why she answers the text that’s obviously meant for someone else. Or why she keeps answering. Maybe it’s because she’s all alone in a big city and in desperate need of a lifeline. Or maybe it’s because each exchange leaves her intrigued and more than a little turned on. Still, Monroe never would’ve snarked back if she’d known she was talking to the “Golden Boy” of the Dallas Knights.