I can’t remember anymore if my grandfather’s eyes were blue or green, but I’ll never forget the way they wrinkled at the corners when he laughed at one of his own jokes. Or the way they sparkled with mischief when he told me tales about the magical creatures that dwelled in the forest behind his humble Irish sheep farm. As a child, I believed every fantastical word. But when he warned me about the mute boy who also lurked in those woods, the one the priest had declared to be the spawn of Satan himself, I refused to listen.

She's back. We were kids the last time I saw her, but my innocent crush from childhood is full-grown now. And it's not so innocent anymore. She's a breath of fresh air from the series of one-night stands since being drafted into the NHL. I've only got one shot with her, and I'm not taking it for granted. I may give her the passion she's been craving, but she's the intimacy I've waited for my whole life.

When my father passed away, I assumed my grieving would be as simple as closing a book and starting another. Only he had other plans. Leaving me his beloved tattoo shop, I’m stuck to figure out what exactly to do with it, all while being constantly reminded of him.

Keeping things professional with my employees has never been an issue. Until she waltzed onto my property. Billie is talented. She's mouthy. And she's so damn tempting. I can't stop thinking about all the ways I could take her down a peg. I can't stop thinking about her, period. We clash from the moment we meet. And in a small town, on an even smaller farm, it's hard to keep your distance. It's even harder to keep that friction from turning to fire. But keeping my distance? That might be the biggest struggle of all.

I caught her staring at me from across the quad, eyes fixed on the football jersey stretched across my wide chest. And if I flexed my muscles, showing off the strength of a defensive tackle, it was just to see her blush. And then she did, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Her wide eyes. The freckles on her cheeks. I needed to know her. The girl who scampered away every time we bumped into each other—by accident and by design.

Asher Donovan is a living legend—the darling of the Premier League, the (arguably) greatest footballer in the world. But his reckless antics and recent team transfer have caused much controversy, and when his feud with his rival-turned-teammate costs them a championship, they’re forced to “bond” during off-season cross-training. Surviving the summer shouldn’t be hard…until Asher meets their new trainer. She’s beautiful, talented, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t take his mind off her.

When my husband died, he left my broken heart behind. He left another heart behind, too - his.
I know it's wrong. I shouldn't be contacting the recipient of my husband's heart. I don't even expect him to reply.... But there's a desperate, twisted part of me that hopes he will. No names. No personal details. Just a conversation. The only thing I have left of my husband is inside him.

Demi Crawford was Magnolia Falls royalty. I was the boxer from the wrong side of the tracks. She was the epitome of everything good, while I was broody and rebellious. We couldn’t be more different. Her family was enemy number one which made her guilty by association. I despised her before I even knew her. It was easier that way. But now she’d moved in next door to me, and she was everywhere I turned. I couldn’t avoid her no matter how hard I tried. She was beautiful and honest and sweet. Everything I knew I shouldn’t want. Shouldn’t need.

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 had one thing on my mind and that was never going to change: The game. The only goal I had was beating the records set by my family. I didn’t have time for anything else. Until she walked in the room. The earth shifted, just like the stories said it would. I said it wouldn’t happen—not to me. I didn’t have the time, but now she was the only thing on my mind. I knew it was her. Now I had to convince her.

Sticks and stones may break our bones…Hockey is my life. After Wren Davis puts my dreams of the NHL in jeopardy, I vow to make her life hell if she ever comes near me again. But she’s my best friend’s foster sister, and even though they don’t live together anymore, their bond is still tight, which makes avoiding each other extra difficult.

Sharing a summer house with a hot-as-hell roommate should be a dream come true, right? Not when it’s Justin…the only person I’d ever loved…who now hates me. When my grandmother died and left me half of the house on Aquidneck Island, there was a catch: the other half would go to the boy she helped raise. The same boy who turned into the teenager whose heart I broke years ago.

The Sick Boys feed on the order they create. They rule Eastpoint University just as their families have for decades. But their power doesn't stop there. The three of them are heirs to some of the largest fortunes in the world, and behind that kind of wealth lies an underworld of corruption. On the surface, they're perfect princes and he is their king. But underneath it all, they're filled with blood, lies, and secrets. With all of their connections, they have the power to crush anyone who gets in their way.

I’ve always been a wild card–the first to start a fight on the ice, and the life of the party off it–but appearances can be deceiving. Being traded to the Boston Rebels could not have come at a better time. With serious family obligations to fulfill and a contract renewal with a new hockey team on the line, I have no time for anything else. I return to Boston knowing I need to buckle down and focus on what really matters.

Flat on my back is not how I imagined meeting my new boss and hot-as-sin rock star. But here I am . . .If I didn’t already have amnesia, I’d be wishing for it now. In my defense, Laird Faris was only wearing a shameless smirk and a towel wrapped around his chiseled abs when we met. Brooding. Devastatingly handsome. Utterly intolerable. Naturally, I’m instantly attracted to him.