Six Ines Broussard walks right into the middle of hell. And at the center of it? Lynnwood Thatcher. The mayor. The man that she took one glance at on the night of his inauguration and dismissed as boring. A total stick in the mud. Only, he’s not so boring shirtless, in the middle of nowhere, doing things that are very illegal. At first, she’s appalled. Then her interest gets piqued. Stuck-up suit is hot! And he has tattoos. Then, he goes and kidnaps her...and she soon realizes, nobody is quite as hot as you thought they were when they’re holding you hostage.

After a horrible marriage, Haggard has zero plans of ever finding a woman again. One-night stands not counting, he adores his life as a single man. There are no expectations. No "where are yous" and "are you coming homes". The life he chooses to live is a simple one. Until he makes a huge mistake, and he steps over that line between "daughter’s best friend" and "a woman he desperately wants". Before long, he can’t stop thinking about her. Can’t stop wanting her. Can’t stop feeling things for her that a man 20 years her senior should never feel for a girl he watched grow up.

When Mr. January himself tells Rowen to do what a gunman says, she’s had enough. Rowen has never really been a girl that does what she’s told. Mr. January won’t have to save her. She can dang well save herself.

The problem with Wake was that he was understandable. He was the type of villain who literally scared the absolute shit out of you because you knew that under the right circumstances, you could end up exactly like him.

"I’m kind of a lady, but definitely more of a weirdo." Hearing the woman at the table behind him say that to her friend should’ve turned Logan Gibbs off. It doesn’t. In all honesty, it only makes him listen harder. He’s had enough weird in his life to last a lifetime. The last thing his complicated life needs is a woman in it who has no clue what color you get when you mix yellow and blue together. Yet, her obvious blonde moments aren’t enough to deter him. Nor is her lack of finger-painting skills.

Sometimes you need to crash a funeral to experience happiness. At least Kissimmee Singh, aerial artist for Singh Circus, the most sought-after traveling circus of all time, keeps telling herself that’s why she crashes funerals. In reality, she’s lost and confused. Sometimes it’s nice to experience other people’s grief and be reminded that life isn’t as bad as it could be.

You know when you see that big red flag, and you think to yourself, I should probably not go anywhere near there? Yeah, Quincy Carter ignored that big red flag. He walked right up to that red flag, waving blatantly in the wind, and kissed the holy hell out of her. Sure, he probably should've arrested her for breaking a restraining order. He probably also should've stopped her from continuing to break that restraining order. Yet he can't.

Taos was tired. Tired of everything that came with living. Not to the point where he was suicidal or anything, but tired enough that he just didn’t give a crap anymore. He’d seen all the ugliness this world had to offer due to his job as a police officer for way too many damn years of his less than stellar life.

He is the one that never looks her way. He is handsome and strong. He is rough around the edges and mean. He is everything she’s ever wanted. He doesn’t even know she exists. Her life is a joke. She doesn’t step on cracks in the sidewalk. She laughs at inappropriate times. She talks when she shouldn’t. She is clumsy and trips on air. She is finally on his radar. God help her now.

She’s in a white dress that dances around her ankles, and her hair tumbles in a long sheet of curls down her back. A veil covers her beautiful eyes, and she smiles directly at him. Janie is everything Rafe’s ever imagined she would be on her wedding day. Breathtaking. Gorgeous. Perfect. The moment he sees her walking down the aisle toward him, he knows that she’s the one. Then, she passes him, making her way to the man she’s to marry.