One visit to my father in prison—convicted for a murder he didn't commit—and I've attracted the attention of the last man I'd ever want knowing that I exist.

Psychiatrist Dr. Gwen Moore is an expert on killers. She’s spent a decade treating California’s most depraved predators and unlocking their motives - predators much like the notorious Bloody Heart serial killer, whose latest teenage victim escaped and then identified local high school teacher Randall Thompson as his captor. The case against Thompson as the Bloody Heart Killer is damning - and closed, as far as Gwen and the media are concerned. If not for one new development.

When a scandal tarnishes the reputation of hot-as-hell A-lister Patrick Walsh, he needs a reputation rescue, pronto. Enter waitress Norah Peers - a nobody who’s average with a capital A. She’s available, dependable, and has sworn off men for the rest of her natural born life. In other words: the perfect match for a no-strings fake romance. For the right amount of money, she can avoid waitressing and play the part of his dependable down-to-earth girlfriend. What she can’t avoid - dammit - is the growing steam between them.

As a teenage runaway and child of an addict, Christy-Lynn learned the hard way that no address was permanent, and no promise sacred. For a while, she found a safe haven in her marriage to bestselling crime novelist Stephen Ludlow - until his car skidded into Echo Bay. But Stephen’s wasn’t the only body pulled from the icy waters that night. When details about a mysterious violet-eyed blonde become public, a media circus ensues, and Christy-Lynn runs again.

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.

I found Killian drunk and sprawled out on my lawn like some lost prince. With the face of a god and the arrogance to match, the pest won't leave. Sexy, charming, and just a little bit dirty, he's slowly wearing me down, making me crave more. He could be mine if I dare to claim him. Problem is, the world thinks he's theirs. How do you keep an idol when everyone is intent on taking him away?

I asked for his criteria for bed buddies - that's the PG version. He swore at me and said he didn’t do groupies. And just like that, our friendship was off to a great start. Reese Forster was the starting point guard for the Seattle Thunder. Gorgeous. Cocky. Loved by the nation. He’s also attending preseason basketball training camp where I used to work.

When Liz Dougherty’s first reporting assignment for her North Carolina college newspaper finds her covering a state senator’s impromptu press conference, she has no idea how drastically her life is about to change. Senator Brady Maxwell may look the part with his devastating good looks and impeccable style, but his politics rub Liz the wrong way, and she’s not going to let him off easy. Liz’s hardball question catches Brady off guard and shows her editor, Hayden Lane, that she’s headed places as journalist. But to Liz’s surprise, she’s also headed for a secret, high-stakes romance with Brady Maxwell.

Hollywood bad boy Brad Sinclair always gets his way, whether it's the role he wants or the bikini-clad model he has to have. But when a bombshell gets dropped in his lap in the form of a dimpled five-year-old from a forgotten relationship, he knows his life is about to change forever. Cara DuMont isn't exactly thrilled when she gets assigned to be the nanny for the latest box-office king. She has one rule: no celebrity fathers, especially single ones with devilish good looks and rock-hard abs.

It should have been easy. I needed the money. He needed a babysitter to keep him from snorting himself to death. I was cherry-picked especially for him. Responsible. Optimistic. Warm. Innocent. The worst part is that I should have known better. Alex Winslow. British rock star. Serial heartbreaker. Casanova with whiskey eyes. “Don’t get near the devil in a leather jacket. He’ll chew you up and spit you out.” Guess what? I didn’t listen. I signed the contract. World tour. Three months. Four Continents. 100 shows. My name is Indigo Bellamy, and I sold my soul to a tattooed god.