I was stuck between a rock(star) and a hard place. At 15, his poster hung on my bedroom wall. At 25 his body hovered over mine. Every girl's fantasy became my reality. I was dating a rockstar. Yet I was slowly falling for another man. The problem was - the two men - they shared a tour bus. Flynn Beckham was the opening act. Dylan Ryder was the headliner. What happens when the opening act begins to shine so bright, it seems to dim everything else in its wake? I'll tell you what happens. Things get ugly.

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....

They say love and hate are the same feelings experienced under different circumstances, and it's true. The man who comes to me in my dreams also haunts me in my nightmares. He is a brilliant lawyer. A skilled criminal. A beautiful liar. A bully and a savior, a monster and a lover. Ten years ago, he made me run away from the small town where we lived. Now, he came for me in New York, and he isn't leaving until he takes me with him.

Nate Monson was gorgeous, obnoxiously wealthy, and a player. He was also the person who could destroy my world with a single decision. I walked into that bar looking for him. He saw me. I saw him. The chemistry sizzled between us, but no. I hated Nate Monson. I hated him with everything in me, even though my body did not. It didn't matter. Nothing I wanted mattered. He thought I wanted to get laid. What I wanted was for him to disappear. But first, I had to tell him that he had a daughter.

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.

My love story all started with a letter. Only it wasn’t from the man I’d eventually fall in love with. It was from his daughter. A sweet little girl named Birdie Maxwell who’d written to the magazine that I worked for. You see, once a year my employer fulfilled a few wishes for readers. Only that column didn’t start up again for months. So I fulfilled some of her wishes myself. It was harmless…so I thought. Until one day I took things too far. While anonymously granting yet another of Birdie’s wishes, I got a look at her father.

It all started with a mysterious blue note sewn into a wedding dress. Something blue. I’d gone to sell my own unworn bridal gown at a vintage clothing store. That’s when I found another bride’s “something old". Stitched into the lining of a fabulously feathered design was the loveliest message I’d ever read: Thank you for making all of my dreams come true.

I’d never forgotten him - a man I’d yet to meet. 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 we were able to rekindle our childhood connection.

He’s the billionaire Beast of Calico Cove, and I’m his sacrificial lamb…I mean, his new employee. Malcolm Bettencourt is a recluse with a nasty scar across his face and a bad attitude. He has a bone to pick with my family over a loan my dad can't pay back, so to save our lobster business, I agree to be his live-in housekeeper and cook. We have nothing in common, and there’s no reason to think he would want anything to do with someone like me. Except I can’t stop thinking about him, and he can’t stop looking at me.

I should have run the other way. Paid my tab and gone back to my room. But he was there. And he was…everything. I figured, what’s the harm in letting passion rule my decisions for one night? So what if he looks like the Devil in a suit? I’d be leaving in the morning, flying home to my pleasant but predictable life. I’d never see him again. Except I do. In the last place I expected. And now everything I’ve worked so hard for is in jeopardy.