Escape to a Winter Wonderland with CEO and billionaire Colton Connolly as he embarks on a shenanigan-filled journey in search of the idyllic white Christmas he's always craved. Inspired by the enchantment of his favorite holiday movies, Colton surprises his beloved husband and their found family with a trip to the captivating mountain town of Winterhaven.

Julian "Quinn" Quintero, a gruff, tough Miami SWAT officer, has been injured on the job, and all he's looking for is a little peace and quiet to recover - difficult to achieve with his large Cuban family. An adventure in picking up his prescriptions puts him in the path of his geeky, brownie-baking neighbor, Spencer Morgan. Spencer sweeps into Quinn's life like a tropical storm of sunshine and rainbows. Not surprisingly, it's chaos at first sight.

Cutthroat political consultant Thom Morgan is thriving, working on the governor of California’s presidential campaign. If only he didn’t have to deal with Clay Parker, the infuriatingly smug data analyst who gets under Thom’s skin like it’s his job. In the midst of one of their heated and very public arguments, a journalist snaps a photo, but the image makes it look like they’re kissing. As if that weren’t already worst-nightmare territory, the photo goes viral—and in a bid to secure the liberal vote, the governor asks them to lean into it. Hard.

It is utter madness for a valet to fall in love with one’s boss. But when that boss is Ignatius Corbridge–my handsome, secretly lonely, utterly wonderful Iggy–one really can’t help it. For decades, I’ve stood by his side, fulfilling my role as his right-hand man, his mentor, his friend. I’ve pressed his suits, arranged his travel, and witnessed a thousand walks of shame as he scratched itch after itch with elite playboys around the globe. Each day, it killed me just a little bit more. So I did what needed to be done for both of us: I quit.

I left my family and tiny Texas hometown 15 years ago to escape small-town gossips and to give my mom and sister the chance at a better life. But when a phone call from an attorney back home informs me that my sister passed away, leaving me custody of her newborn baby, I'm shocked out of the steady life I've built for myself running a tattoo shop in San Francisco. The thing is: I don't do babies. And I don't do small towns. Or commitment. And I especially don't do family.