Carter Morgan III hates everything about South Carolina University except for one thing: hockey. As the starting netminder for the team, he lives for those moments when he can step onto the ice and between the pipes. Unfortunately, his time at school and on the team is slowly coming to an end. Although he'd love nothing more than to pursue a career in the NHL, he knows better than to get his hopes up.

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.

Proposing to my first boyfriend at a hockey game wasn’t my smartest move. Not only does said boyfriend walk out on me, but the whole stupid thing goes viral, and it turns out the man I was dating has too many boyfriends to count. Internet fame has crowned me a member of the Jilted Exes’ Club, a name I’d do anything to escape. One thing’s for sure: I’m not making the same mistake again. No more boyfriends, just easy hookups. And I’ll start with this gorgeous catch in Seattle. The only problem…he’s a god in bed, and I’m an inexperienced mess.

Being a lifelong Chicago Thunder fan, I know that Blaine Olsen is trouble. Because all hockey players are. He's a notorious playboy, and I refuse to be another notch on his bedpost. But when he shows me the part of himself he keeps hidden, it gets harder to resist him.

Being a hitman is the loneliest of jobs. We don't have many friends. Some don't even have family. Lovers? Try explaining to your boyfriend why there's blood on your shirt. Christmas is the worst time to be alone. This year, love is in the cards for me, all thanks to a letter I found in the street. It reads, "Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is revenge…"

I'm your typical small-town loser stuck in a dead-end job. Single, because dating is for well-adjusted human beings, not traumatized gay boys with trust issues. All I want is to leave my past behind and finally start living. My wish comes true in the most bizarre way imaginable. One evening, a beautiful man with pointy ears and flowing dark locks appears out of nowhere. He proclaims I am to be his 'Dark Companion' based on some stupid deal I made in a dream. Oh, and apparently he's an elven prince, the Lord of Shadows, Protector of the Nightmare Realm, and Knight of Grief Ocean.

I always thought of Silas Rush as my biggest rival on the track and a stuck-up loner off of it. He and his fancy pro career left our crappy hometown in the dust before high school even finished, and then I didn't think of him much at all. I was too busy trying to keep my little sisters from turning into addicts like our mom, and myself from turning into a rage-junkie like our dad. All while keeping food on the table. Now he's back, reminding me of all the things I don't have, just like he always did.

Some men are just off-limits. Like, say, all the other football players in the league…. 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…

The Firm has ruled St. Dismas for generations. To most, they’re just a myth. But in truth, they are the last resort of the desperate. I never understood why anyone would go to The Firm. There’s always a price to pay—a price you won’t discover until your request has been granted. It was a path I swore I’d never walk. Or so I thought. When my brother is gravely injured, everything changes. I have no choice but to go to The Firm. I don’t know what they’ll ask of me, but I’ll give anything to save Jackson. He has his whole life ahead of him, and I’ll make sure he gets to live it.

What’s a straight guy to do when he accidentally goes on a date with his brand new gym-bro? Offer to be the best wingman ever, of course! It’s foolproof. Joey needs a man? I’ll find him one. He wants someone who looks, well, kind of like me? No problem! Not into watersports? I’ve got him covered. The issue is, going on all these dates with Joey makes me realize I want more of his time to be spent with me. I like the guy. And his smile. And the way he makes me feel like anything is possible.

A sweet and sexy hockey romance about two ex-teammates and former best friends with benefits who are about to discover whether you can ever really have a second chance. From the New York Times bestselling author of the Heated Rivalry. After moving back to his hometown ten years ago, Riley Tuck...

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.

Charles Preston Carmichael is the most infuriating man I've ever met. I want to sock the golden boy of college hockey right in the mouth. He enjoys telling me everything I'm messing up—publicly. And since he's my roommate for the next year, I can't avoid him. Yet there's something about him that makes me watch him. Something dark. A secret I want to uncover. When he returns from a weekend away, broken and haunted, I can't keep my distance anymore. He needs someone, and I'll be damned if it's not me.

New York Admirals captain Scott Hunter takes his pregame rituals very seriously. In this case, it's not just a lucky smoothie he's craving - it's the man who made it. Pro hockey star Scott Hunter knows a good thing when he sees it. So, when a smoothie made by juice bar barista Kip Grady precedes Scott breaking his on-ice slump, he's desperate to recreate the magic...and to get to know the sexy, funny guy behind the counter.

Maybe I have an overactive imagination, but the hot guy next door totally gives off serial killer vibes. Why else would he know how long it takes to bleed out from a wound? Yeah, ok, so I asked, but it was research. Being an author definitely makes for some odd questions (someone had better clear my browser history when I die, that's all I'm saying). It's not like I'm stalking my hot neighbor or anything—there's nothing wrong with watching him out my window. Although I might have my own stalker (and not the cute harmless kind), which is kind of terrifying.