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.

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.

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!

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.

Beckett Langfield is grumpy, rich and hates kids. I’m an overworked, overstressed, and overweight single mom. The only reason we’re getting married is because he needs to fix a PR disaster and I am available. As in sitting next to him, in a bar, when he has this brilliant idea. Considering I just got divorced, I’m not looking to do that again. But Beckett makes me an offer that I literally can’t refuse, so I don’t.

Tristan Stiles is the bane of my existence. He never wears a shirt. We can’t seem to stop fighting. He’s an arrogant playboy with a filthy reputation. Sure, I had a crush on him when I was fourteen but that was a long time ago. I know better than to trust him. I just need to survive long enough to find a new job and get a new place. And not accidentally let Tristan show me exactly how well-deserved his reputation is.

I had my whole life planned out... until I met a hockey player obsessed with breaking all of my rules. My five simple rules for hooking up keep me from being distracted. Now that I'm so close to landing my dream internship, nothing is going to make me break them. Not even a protective hockey player with clear grey eyes, a sharp jaw, and a body that makes my breath catch. Until Jax wins a bet and one kiss has me breaking them all.

Rule number one for having a one-night stand: Don’t fall for the girl. After a lengthy dating slump, I finally met someone who sparked my interest. Well, first the sparks flew when we argued. Later in the evening those sparks ignited into something more. I was drawn to Devyn, in a way I hadn’t felt in a really long time. Needless to say, I was disappointed when she abruptly left after our amazing night together. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But she hadn’t even given me her number. In a city with eight-million people, I figured I’d never see Devyn again.

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.

I should have known I was in trouble when I backed my old, beat-up truck into the shiny Range Rover. The driver looked like a gorgeous fallen angel–one who’d been booted right out of paradise for being a giant prick. Good thing I’ll never have to see him again.

Knox Holland is in a jam. After an incredible first year on the pro motocross circuit, he should be on top of the world. Instead, his bad reputation has landed him without a team. He's untouchable and desperate to turn it around. Which is how he ends up at my gym asking me to train him. As a college gymnast with two Olympic medals to my name, I know a thing or two about the pressure to succeed. Last season I choked and then injured myself before I could show the world that I'm not a twenty-year-old has-been.

Meet hockey superstar Leo and watch him fall for his coach’s daughter in Wildcat, cheer on Tyler as he tries to win back his first love in Wild About You, and swoon hard when Declan says ‘my wife’ in Wild Ever After.

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.

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.