I’m desperate and destitute when Lockwood Construction rolls into my small town with an offer too good to pass up: high wages to any able-bodied man willing to join their crew. Say no more. I throw on baggy clothes, tuck my long hair under a baseball hat, and apply for a job. Unfortunately, my half-baked idea of disguising myself as a guy is flawed from the beginning. As Shakira says, these hips don’t lie.  Still, I like to think I might have pulled the whole thing off save for one thing: I know my boss.

It was one freaking kiss with a stranger. I wasn't looking for a hero the day Brent Eden charged into my life. He saw a damsel in distress facing humiliation. We played pretend. Swore I was his. Baited sweet chaos. Blew apart everything. My dating disaster? Gone. Our kiss? Electric. Divine. Toe-curling. His mistake? Oh, boy. Dropping the ultimate F-bomb: fiancée. Especially when my gossipy cousin tells the whole family.  

I was upgraded to first class on a flight from London to New York. The food, champagne, and service were impeccable. The blue-eyed man sitting next to me, even better. He was suave and intelligent. We talked and laughed, and something clicked. Fate took over and the plane was grounded, and we had an unexpected stopover for the night. With no plans, we made our own. 

It started out like any normal day. Then the fender bender happened. The guy I collided with drove an expensive car and was drop-dead gorgeous. Too bad he was also a total jerk. We argued over whose fault it was and any other thing that came out of his condescending mouth. Eventually, the police came and we went our separate ways. The insurance companies would have to figure things out. I had a job interview to get to anyway - one I was excited about. Though that excitement changed to disappointment the moment the person interviewing me walked in. The guy from the accident. 

Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break. Until one day it did. Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one - one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing. Griffin forgave me, and somehow we were able to rekindle our childhood connection.

Dr. Russell has a bad reputation around our hospital. I try to avoid him and his temper at all costs. It’s just as easy to admire his sexy, grip-it-while-he’s-ravishing-you hair and chiseled jaw from a healthy distance. Unfortunately, my plan crumbles when my trusty ol’ boss decides to swap his white coat for a Hawaiian shirt. His retirement leaves me with two terrible options: Switch specialties and spend months retraining or take an open position as Dr. Russell’s surgical assistant.

Ian is...just my best friend. We're extremely close, stuck so deep inside a Jim-and-Pam-style friendzone everyone at work assumes we're a couple - that is until one day, word spreads through the teacher's lounge that he's single. Fair game. Suddenly, it's open season on Ian. He should be reveling in all the newfound attention, but to our mutual surprise, the only attention he seems to want is mine. He's turning our formerly innocent nightly chats into X-rated phone calls. Our playful banter sports a new, dangerous edge.  

Evan Thomas. The name alone made me swoon. Imagine the chaos that sleeping with him created. Of all people, why him? First, he's my cousin's best friend...the cousin who had threatened to murder us both if we ever hooked up. He’s also the one I'd crushed on since I wore braces and pigtails. If that wasn’t bad enough, I was a blank slate about the night we shared, thanks to Mr. Tequila. One passion-filled night with the man of my childhood dreams, wasted...or rather, I'd gotten wasted.

Everyone in Cedar Creek, Texas, knows Jack McNight is an arrogant devil. Physically, I get it: he’s tan and fit, with coal-black hair that’s clearly been scorched by hellfire. Oh, and his personality? It burns just as hot. When I show up on the doorstep of Blue Stone Ranch, I’m run-down and rockin’ my last pair of underwear. I’m hoping for a savior, but instead, I find him. My opinion of Jack is marred by a dismal first impression, but his opinion of me is tainted even before I arrive. He’s heard I’m a spoiled princess there to take advantage of his goodwill.

Dear Mr. Brisken: How do I hate you? Let me count the ways. I hate your smug, sexy millionaire face. I hate your cocky, skirt-chasing, playboy ways. I hate working as your secretary - but, I love the pay. It almost makes dealing with you worth it. I hate how my friends call you a BILF, when really BILK (Boss I'd Like to Kill) is more appropriate. I hate that I need you to be my date for my best friend's wedding because my ex-boyfriend, the King of Heartbreakers, and his new busty blonde girlfriend will be in attendance.  

Fate. Destiny. Karma.... She’s mine. It all started with a broken heart. And a breakup party. Rock stars. Circus freaks. And a bachelorette party. Too. Much. Booze. An embarrassing tattoo. And a twist of fate. Her name was Danny. I thought she was the one. But then I lost her. And I never thought I’d see her again. Now...I’m a mess. I’ve had my heart broken - more than once. And my band's broken up. I’ve sworn to myself that I’ll never fall in love again. Time to focus on new music and my new band. As soon as I sober up from my latest breakup party.

I had a plan to escape the friend zone. Step one: sneak into Reed’s room. Step two: sleep with him. But when the lights turned on, it wasn’t familiar blue eyes I saw. These were dark, angry, and full of demons. And they belonged to Reed’s much-older brother. Four years later, Nash Prescott is no longer the help’s angry son. I’m no longer the town’s prized princess. At 22, I’m broke, in need of a job. At 32, he’s a billionaire, in need of revenge.

She’s the last woman on earth I’d marry...again. Yet here I am. Saying my vows. Again. To save an alpaca. At least, that’s my story. But the truth might be a little more complicated. I didn’t want to let her go the first time. But now I have a second chance to win over my wife. We’re older. Wiser. And hornier. This time, I won’t fail. Hitched is a red-hot enemies-to-lovers laugh-a-palooza featuring a girl in need of a marriage of convenience and a man in need of a cold shower to keep from falling for his fake wife.

It should be the most shocking news I’d ever gotten - my boyfriend is getting married. Okay, technically he’s my ex-boyfriend. Two months ago he decided he wanted a break. I still thought he was my happily-ever-after. On any other day, knowing he was gone for good would be the worst thing that could possibly happen. But not today. Because not only is my boyfriend getting married - his bride is my best friend. And they’ve sent me an invitation. There’s no way I’m going to attend. I don’t care if it’s in beautiful Scotland. Nothing and no one could convince me.

I’m having a millionaire’s baby...New Year’s Eve, a night of new beginnings. Asher and I talked and sipped champagne. Eventually, we went up to my room at the bed and breakfast and...Let’s just say when I left that room, I was no longer a virgin. And that was it. Until I was approached for a nanny position that I wasn’t sure I was equipped for. And the man behind the curtain raising his best friend’s little girl was...Asher.