Am I friends with JP Cane? Ha! That's laughable. Besides the fact that he’s adopted some far-fetched notion from the movie When Harry Met Sally that says men and women can't be friends and work together, it’s safe to say we're not friends. He's annoyingly loud, obnoxiously handsome, and has made an art out of poking all my hot buttons...multiple times a day. So you can imagine how disgruntled I am when I not only have to fly to San Francisco with him for work, but stay in the same penthouse. Yup, we're sharing the same air, 24-7. We're talking full-fledged working roommates.

The quintessential question asked to every couple. And the answer is usually some bubbly, lovey dovey tale of being struck in the bum by Cupid’s arrow. My meet cute (well, not so meet cute) is slightly different. I was trolling a wealthy neighborhood in Beverly Hills, searching for someone to take me as their bride, you know, to make my arch nemesis jealous who consequently just fired me.

Five hockey players, a cabin in the woods...and little old me, Winnie Berlin. Sounds like the start of a fantasy, right? But it's not. It's my reality. It all started when I got lost in the middle of the Canadian Rockies. A wicked thunderstorm sent my car mud sliding into a ditch, and for a girl whose survival skills involve finding the nearest Starbucks, I was in deep trouble. Forced to abandon my car in search of help, I stumbled upon a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

I’m the face of professional bull riding—the golden boy. Or at least I was, until it all blew up in my face. Now my agent says I have to clean up my image, so I’m stuck with his ball-busting daughter for the rest of the season as my “full-time supervision.”

Ryot Bisley is my husband. Yes, the former third baseman for the Chicago Rebels and absolute heartthrob of the Windy City. That Ryot Bisley. The first time I ran into him, he was grumpy, a horrific host, and left me on his sofa with nothing but a nylon baseball flag to use as a blanket.

After failing my last semester of grad school, I decided to come back to my hometown and wallow in my boyfriend’s sympathetic arms. Instead, he proceeded to dump me...for being boring! Now, I'm not typically a spiteful person, but there's only so much I can take. Hence why I’m holding the box of his most cherished possessions...stolen possessions no less!

What does one do when they completely blow an interview? If you're me, you pick up a one-night stand with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.. That's right, after a lousy interview that could have changed everything for me, I headed over to the local small town bar to sulk when the one man I shouldn't want walked in. And when my friend convinced me to take him back to my hotel room, I didn't think about it, I just did it . . . well, I did him.

Carter Beckett is the NHL’s resident bad boy, top player both on the ice and in the bedroom, and quite possibly the sexiest man to ever grace my field of vision. But worst of all? He knows it. He’s arrogant, self-centered, and the man doesn’t seem to know what a filter is, let alone how to use one. He’s had everything served to him on a silver platter, including endless strings of women, and apparently, I’m up next. I have the solution to all my sexual frustrations in a drawer at home, and it’s far less complicated than Carter Beckett.

After years of working her tail off at her event-planning business, Maggie Mitchell is ready for a vacation. With nothing on her mind but R & R, she’s enjoying the warm weather of Bora Bora when in saunters Brody McFadden, her brother’s best friend and also her sworn enemy. Thanks to years of tension between the two—kicked off by a make-out session at her brother’s wedding that ended horribly—Maggie has sworn to stay away from the man. That is, until she finds out he’s in Bora Bora for his boss’s daughter’s wedding, hoping to use the trip to win a real future at the company.

He proposed . . . and I said yes. Normally a jovial occasion for a couple in love, but this proposal has a very different feel. Because the man that I'll be calling my husband blew into town with one thing on his mind . . . to make my life a living nightmare. So why did I say yes? Well, because we both need something from each other. Namely, I want the farm land he currently owns, and he needs a wife in order to inherit his family cabin in his grandfather’s will. So as he so eloquently put it, my hand, for his land.

Wanted: one hot billionaire to pose as my Christmas boyfriend. Must be willing to make my cheating ex jealous when you kiss me under the mistletoe at all the holiday parties. Bonus points if you make him cry. To my surprise my billionaire boss is more than up for the challenge of coming down the chimney as my holiday boyfriend. The sexy single dad desperately needs a plus one at a Christmas Eve wedding, where he’s the best man and I’m the maid of honor.

“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.

Breaking news: The bad boy of baseball, Maddox Paige, is totally and utterly whipped. Okay, that might not be the headline in the newspaper this morning, but it's the reality of my current situation. It all started a month ago when I received a call from my best friend, Kinsley. She’d gotten a new job in Chicago and needed a place to stay. I've known the girl since I was five, so I figured there wouldn't be any harm in having her stay at my place for a while. Ha! Total disaster.

I’ve got a list of people I absolutely don’t ever want to be stuck with on a boat, or a plane, or a train, and it starts and ends with the broody, grumpy, too-sexy-for-my-own good Axel Huxley. Also known as this romance novelist’s number one nemesis. The man is legendary for his mighty pen and his even mightier scowl. I tried to work together with the cocky thriller writer once upon a time, but the two of us are like vodka and good decisions. We don’t play well together.

I got the dreaded phone call, the one every baseball player hopes and prays never comes. I was traded - yeah, that phone call - traded from my longtime team of over 10 years to not just any team...to my childhood rivals, the Chicago Rebels. I was completely and utterly screwed, right? Wrong. The trade was the least of my concerns. I met a girl, Natalie. She was perfect, but I swore I would never get involved with anyone during the season. It was too complicated. But can you believe I had zero restraint when it came to this girl?