Elise Faber

Sharp words. Luscious curves. Killer sniper skills. I had been in lust with Ava from the moment she'd taken my ass to the mat in a training session. I had been in love with her since she single-handedly saved a mission that had gone FUBAR, getting herself and her team out unscathed. She, meanwhile, had been in hate with me the entire time I'd known her. All the sharp words. All the dark glares. All the-Hot, secret kisses. But KTS, the secret military agency I worked for, the group that existed by oftentimes walking the line of legality, was in utter disarray. We had a traitor in our midst. One that put our mission in jeopardy. One made us forget all about that mission . . . Because suddenly we were in a fight for our lives.

Kate McLeod was desperate. Her younger sister was having her first baby, her younger brother was recently married, and...she was single and lonesome. Kate, the one everyone tried to set up with their friend or cousin or coworker. Kate, the oldest and pathetically unmarried sister. Kate, the sad, single San Franciscan. But this year she had a plan. She was going to get herself engaged. A diamond ring on her finger was the perfect way to get her family to back off. And she had just the perfect guy in mind.

Gabby has a secret that might get her kicked out of the only true home she's ever known. Her powers, her magic that every one of her people are born with isn't right. It's broken and wrong and . . . Mason knows. The gorgeous widowed warrior makes her heart pound and her legs weak, but his wounded past keeps him from getting close to anyone. Except, Gabby. He can't resist getting close Gabby, no matter how much his mind and heart protest. But the secret she's hiding about her powers is big and dangerous and threatens to tear them apart before they've even begun.

I was a failure. I'd grown up with two well-meaning, but also two overbearing parents, and, as the youngest of three siblings, I was the only one who wasn't "successful." I worked in a bar. In. A. Bar. Yup, that was me hearing my mother's disappointed voice. Because everyone around me was climbing the corporate ladder or performing brain surgery. Hell, my own brother was succeeding as an actual rocket scientist. Meanwhile, I was slinging drinks and refining the art of mixing the perfect Cosmopolitan. I didn't know what I wanted to do-other than not being a rocket scientist-or who I wanted to be when I grew up. And if I was being honest with myself, growing up had come and gone a while ago. I just . . . wanted to feel something. Excitement or pleasure or even to know what it was like get my heart broken. But nothing ever happened to me. I existed in this boring bubble of life, pouring drinks most nights, reading the others away, and . . . not feeling anything. Until I saw him. Then I felt everything.

Liam Williamson was a legend in the NHL. Or rather . . . his family was legend. He was the least talented of his family of hockey players-with his father and two older brothers seriously outplaying, outscoring, and out-succeeding Liam's limited achievements. He'd been traded to four teams in as many years and it was widely accepted that his career was nearly at an end. Now he was with the San Francisco Gold, barely on the lineup and just waiting for notice that he'd been scratched from every game. His trade to another-and probably final-team was imminent. That was that. He was embracing the fact that his playing days were over-Then he met Mia. She was funny and sweet and the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. Unsurprisingly, Liam had fallen and fallen fast. But he was about to be traded and Mia lived in San Francisco. Her life was there . . . And how in the hell was he going to leave the woman he loved?

First came the director yelling, "Action Next came the actual acting. Last came . . . the end scene. Or at least, that was what I liked to call my job as a publicist to Hollywood's elite. If my client hit it big, I was the one who'd made that possible. And while being on call twenty-four seven meant I was chronically single, I was fine with that. I'd been in a serious relationship once and had ultimately discovered that I wasn't cut out for commitment or being tied down or living in a small town. I needed lights and excitement, paparazzi and enough traffic that the air always smelled faintly of exhaust. I definitely didn't need one Aaron Weaver-my ex-boyfriend and current occupant of my former home and very, very small town in Utah-tying me down or making me feel like the world's biggest jerk, just because I wanted my life to be something more than open fields and cow patties. But then I had to leave L. A. and go home to my father, to my small town . . . to Aaron. And I discovered there might be much more to him than I'd ever expected. In fact, I discovered that I might have missed out on the best end scene of my life by letting him go at all.

Once upon time Shannon had been young and single and filled with hope. But then she'd gotten married and divorced and now she was single again. And older. And a mom. And barely hanging onto her house, her car, her job. Hope was a distant memory. Until Finn Stoneman knocked on her door. He was the biggest movie star in the world, the most beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes on, and...quite possibly the only man whose life might be a bigger hot mess than her own. And he wanted her... No, this couldn't go wrong at all.

The white dress. The diamond ring. The full church. The...missing groom. Molly Miller had become a clich when Jackson Davis left her at the altar, but she'd crawled back from the heartbreak and embarrassment and was living her dream of running a successful bakery in San Francisco. Well, good riddance. She didn't need Jackson, or any other man in her life. He'd gone and that was that. Until one early morning Jackson walked through the front door of her restaurant. And her whole world imploded.

Calle Stevens wasn't what one would call a risk-taker. She was steady. She was even. She was . . . Pregnant. Oh God. How was she pregnant? Well, she knew the how part, but that wasn't the point. Mistakes happened, condoms failed, birth control pills didn't work, and . . . she was pregnant by a man who'd broken up with her via text and then readily offered to sign away his parental rights when she'd told him she was keeping the baby. Her life was ruined. She'd just been hired as an assistant coach for the professional hockey team, the San Francisco Gold. She didn't have any family in the area, didn't have a partner. How was she going to have a baby? But then Cooper. A star player for the team, he'd found out about the baby and had insisted on coming with her to her first appointment, then had held her hair back when she'd spent the majority of her time christening the porcelain goddess before coming to the second, and then the third, and the fourth and-In fact, as much as she tried to push him away, he refused to keep his distance. And then when she was having a particularly weak moment, feeling fat and gross and completely unappealing, he held her like she was precious and . . . he kissed her. Then didn't stop. Calle didn't know what was scarier, the kiss or that she didn't want him to stop either.

I'd spent my life watching everything happen around me. But never actually living it. Sheltered. Na ve. Shy. The top three adjectives to describe me. Well, that and awkward. Until Brent. From the first moment, I'd met him, my filter had disappeared. The things that passed through my lips when I was with him were the thoughts that passed through my mind, but also the things I'd never dreamed of saying aloud. But he seemed to like them, and I couldn't stop. Not when he was also gentle, kind, and protective. As well as the most beautiful man I'd ever laid eyes on. A total winning package, and one who was into me. But I was me. More comfortable on the edges, better at observing rather than living. I'd pushed my boundaries just once, had really gone for what life was offering me, and that had ended about as well as an elephant trying to parachute with a tissue. Horribly. It had ended horribly. So I wasn't going to be ready to try again. Not ever. Even if Brent made a very convincing argument to just suck it up and go for it.

Trixie Donovan had been born stupid. Okay, not so much intellectually inept as born with a stupid name. Named after her flighty mother's favorite pooch, Trixie had spent most of her life fending off comments of her canine similarities from her siblings. They thought they were hilarious, and she thought . . . Well, there was a reason she'd moved to the opposite side of the globe and it wasn't because she was close with her family. She'd left California for bigger and better things then had kept on moving, putting her nursing skills to use to help people all over the world. But living without reliable electricity or clean water or hell, the internet had grown old. Now she was back. She'd finally figured out what Netflix was, though she was still iffy on Tinder, and she'd become her half-sister Heather's new pet project. Isn't that what happily married people did? Tried to marry off everyone around them because they were so sickeningly content that they couldn't stand the thought of someone they knew not being in the same position. So anyway, Heather pestered and Trix gave in, agreeing to a single blind date. But then that blind date turned out to be Jet. Jet, the doctor she'd worked with halfway around the world. The man she'd slept with and then had fallen desperately in love with. The one who, in clich na ve female fashion, had decimated her heart. And the one who transformed an unwanted, but tolerable night out into the blind date from hell. Because apparently Jet had decided his biggest regret was letting her go.

Bad HookupShe'd always been a good girl. Except when it came to him. She'd done all the "bad girl" things with him, and they had been glorious. Until he'd vanished the next morning. No note. No exchanged numbers. She hadn't even known his name... Until she'd walked into her office and found out she had to work with him. Side by side. Every single day with Sebastian Henley-the sexy, gorgeous, irresistible, disappearing man from that night. And the worst part? He still made her want to do bad, bad things. Bad DivorceHe was back. With the news that their divorce had never been finalized. As in she was still freaking married. And worse? Luke was determined to prove that ending their short-lived marriage had been a mistake. Well, for Bec, one broken heart was enough, and she wasn't in the market to give Luke another chance at shattering her all over again. He needed to sign the divorce papers and leave her to her life. Only... Luke wouldn't sign. And maybe...she didn't want to either. Bad Fianc Sera used to believe in happily ever afters. Now she knew they weren't for her. For Seraphina Delgado, finding a man who loved her for who she was inside, rather than simply appreciating her outward appearance, had proved to be impossible. Until Tate. He was more interested in software than her cup size. He didn't care about her looks or her boobs, only her abilities as a real estate agent. But then he showed up in her office with a crazy proposition. One so crazy, it almost made sense. He wanted them to get married. Even crazier? She said yes. Bad Text: A never before released novellaIt came in the middle of the night. Totally her fault, as she should have had her phone on Do Not Disturb. But she hadn't, and that buzz-buzz had woken her. Then she'd seen the picture and...wow. She couldn't let that pass her by. She'd just had to respond and then had stayed up texting back and forth with the man who'd had the great abs and the spectacular di-Cough. Sense of humor. She meant the spectacular sense of humor. But as the sun had risen and as she'd had to force her bleary self out of bed, she'd set the text chain aside and gotten on with her day. Until she'd walked out of her apartment, turned toward the elevator, and saw... Him.

She was a laughingstock. A hippie. A tree-hugger. A granola, crunchy, millennial who worried about how her food was grown and what she put into her body and GMOs and . . . Had a secret chocolate addiction. Because even though she cared about all of those things, a girl had to live too. And Rebecca couldn't live her life without 90% Cacao Super Dark Chocolate. Addictions aside, it was her job to help keep the players on the San Francisco Gold healthy and she was damned good at it, so her hippie, granola background (and maybe also her PhD in Nutritional Sciences) had come in handy, at least to some degree. Especially since the team had taken home the league's top prize last season. Unfortunately, not everyone thought her contributions were important. In fact, some people-cough one Dr. Gabe Carter-thought her position with the team was unnecessary. He thought her diet was too restrictive, her meal plan too out there. He'd actually told Rebecca that her program hadn't been an important factor in the Gold's successful season. But dammit, she knew she'd made a difference with the team, knew her work was important, and it didn't matter that Gabe was gorgeous and a talented doctor, he still didn't have any right to-Kiss her. No. Kiss her or make her feel small. Yes, that. The second one. He was a jerk. She didn't like him or care about his opinions and she definitely wasn't in love with him. Definitely hadn't been in love with him the moment she'd laid eyes on him-Sigh. She definitely was. And to make matters worse? Gabe knew.

My life was boring until I met him. Painfully tedious, pathetically lonely, and I absolutely hated it. But I was too scared to do anything about it. Too scared to change . . . at least until I met Kace. I should have been terrified of him-scared of his size (he towered over my short, curvy self), freaked out by the fierce tats covering his arms and torso (they even crawled up his neck), and definitely frightened by the angry scowl he unleashed on anyone who dared to disrupt him (though this happened rarely, it still did happen). Except, Kace seemed to like me-shy, boring, socially inept me. He couldn't change the tats or the towering, but he rarely unleashed his trademark scowl on me. Okay, so maybe it was more like he tolerated me, but regardless, Kace didn't seem to care that I hung around the bar he worked at, putting my night owl tendencies to work as I wrote. See, my work was the only place I explored. My safe place to write as dirty and steamy and kinky of books as I wanted. My readers loved them-loved the hot sex, the tough alphas, the guaranteed happy endings. As thus, I made good money, only somewhat because I was a decent writer, but mostly because my imagination was very active, beyond active . . . some might even say too active. As for me personally? I'd never experienced anything close to the types of things I wrote. But I'd decided it was time to change that. With scowly, sexy, terrifying Kace.

Kelsey Scott was done with men. She certainly didn't want anything to do with Tanner-the only man who had ever managed to weasel his way into her heart. And by typical male progression, the only man to break it. But then she and Tanner were paired up as bridesmaid and groomsman at her brother's wedding, and suddenly, she found it hard to remember all her steadfast rules. Found it hard to remember her broken heart. Because she was falling for Tanner all over again.