Getting into the vampire-only detective unit was the easy part. What’s going to be more difficult is dealing with my new partner - an ancient vampire who keeps threatening to eat me. The unit has never had a human in it. Marcus - or, as I like to call him: Fangy McFangface - would really prefer to keep it that way. He’s grumpy, short-tempered, and broody, but I have a way with words, and I know he’s starting to like me, even if he swears he’s not.

He murdered my uncle, then covered it with fire. A fire that should have killed me, too. Instead, he hauled me from the floor while flames licked the walls, strong arms holding me close. He saved my life. Now I want to know why. I never saw his face. All I know is the letters on his shirt. SVH. Saint View High. The worst school in a hundred miles. Full of drugs and despair. Breeding ground for future criminals. Armed security guards and weapon checks at every door. A far cry from my privileged life of money, private school, and fancy vacations.

In my defense, I was left alone with a bottle of single-malt and a lifelong penchant for protecting my baby sister. Still, that's no excuse to send 10 drunk-texts on why her hasty marriage would be a mistake. If only I had just texted my sister. But nope. I accidentally sent the message to her, her groom, and his super hot wingman. I also used the phrase “super hot wingman”, so I’d like to die now.

My whole life, I’ve been taught to despise shifters. So when I’m hired to track two escaped convicts, I’m suddenly thrust into the world I hate - or thought I did. Yet I’m inexplicably drawn to the alpha of the pack, whose land the convicts may be hiding on. He’s different than any shifter I've ever met - laidback and quick to laugh, caring, and protective. As secrets are revealed, I start to wonder if everything I’ve been raised to believe was a lie, though it may not matter, because it seems like someone wants us dead.

When it comes to hockey, I'm all about the game. I've worked for years to be one of the best in the league, and l've done it without splashing my orientation all over the tabloids. My hockey image is one I've carefully cultivated, and after one night with Ezra Palaszczuk, I risk it all. He's cocky, obnoxious, and has an ego bigger than Massachusetts. And okay, maybe he's the sexiest man I've ever known. We'll never get along. Not when we sleep together. Not even when my possessive streak awakens. That doesn't stop us from falling into bed together over and over again.

My path to success never included an enemy as a teammate, especially one as infuriating as Quinton de Haas. Clawing under my skin is his favorite pastime, only feeding the animosity between us as the years pass. We’re as completely opposite as two people can be; the golden boy and the black sheep. Constantly at odds or at each other’s throats. The only thing we can agree on is hockey is our true love, and we’ll do whatever it takes to come out on top. I never imagined that drive would lead me to do the unthinkable: falling into bed with my not-so-straight rival.

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.

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!

Duty, honor, and sacrifice. Dedicating my life to these elements, for family and country, leaves little for myself in return. It's why I indulge in a no-strings hookup with a handsome stranger mere days before heading half-a-world away. Except one night turns into a week-long fling, creating a connection at the most inopportune time. And neither of us want it to end. Staying in touch is easy at first, but dwindles to radio silence and distant memories as time passes.

We were 16 the night she was violently assaulted while I helplessly watched. I’ll never forget the sounds of her suffering. Or my inconsolable agony when she left Oklahoma. Years later, she returns to honor our teenage pact. Except the boy she loved is gone, replaced by a ruthless cattle rancher knotted with secrets. She doesn’t know my dark cravings or the trails of sin that lead to her. I don’t deserve her, but one truth remains: She’s mine.

Jamie Canning has never been able to figure out how he lost his closest friend. Four years ago, his tattooed, wisecracking, rule-breaking roommate cut him off without an explanation. So what if things got a little weird on the last night of hockey camp the summer they were 18? It was just a little drunken foolishness. Nobody died.

It's official: my step bro is the biggest himbo ever to himbo. He's a massive blond beefcake with a soft heart and an over-eager smile. The mere sight of him incites a shaking hot rage in me. He's everywhere. He's around me all the time. So sweet and gentle that it makes me feel wild. I see him and smell him everywhere. When I can't see him or smell him, I hear him. The wall between our bedrooms is paper thin. I can't help it—I hear what he does in his room when he thinks he's alone. I hear everything.

I’m a man with too many secrets, so the last thing I need is a new roommate with a sexy smile and blue eyes that see right through me. Eight years ago, Roderick left town after high school. We’re not friends. I owe him nothing. But back then, I let one of my secrets slip, and he’s the only one who noticed. Part of me knows I should run far, far away. But the other part wants him to come upstairs and spend the night. But if I let him in, I could lose everything.

As one of the world's most hated celebrities, I'm used to unwanted attention. But when I woke up one morning to find a mysterious man had broken into my house, I knew I needed security, fast. Enter "The Angels," my three ex-military bodyguards. Having three gorgeous men guarding me 24-7 sounds like a dream come true, but it turns out to be a nightmare. They're always here, watching me. Caring for me. Protecting me. They tell me to ignore them and go about my business, but I can't even think with them so close. The spark is too intense.

I have to stop replaying the one night I spent with my rival. Trouble is, that white-hot encounter with the other quarterback answered a lot of questions I’ve had about myself, but it also led me into this mess where he hates me. I never showed up for our second date. Since, well, life happened, and the worst part is he’ll never know how much that night meant to me.