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The quintessential question asked to every couple. And the answer is usually some bubbly, lovey dovey tale of being struck in the bum by Cupid’s arrow. My meet cute (well, not so meet cute) is slightly different. I was trolling a wealthy neighborhood in Beverly Hills, searching for someone to take me as their bride, you know, to make my arch nemesis jealous who consequently just fired me.

After years of working her tail off at her event-planning business, Maggie Mitchell is ready for a vacation. With nothing on her mind but R & R, she’s enjoying the warm weather of Bora Bora when in saunters Brody McFadden, her brother’s best friend and also her sworn enemy. Thanks to years of tension between the two—kicked off by a make-out session at her brother’s wedding that ended horribly—Maggie has sworn to stay away from the man. That is, until she finds out he’s in Bora Bora for his boss’s daughter’s wedding, hoping to use the trip to win a real future at the company.

He proposed . . . and I said yes. Normally a jovial occasion for a couple in love, but this proposal has a very different feel. Because the man that I'll be calling my husband blew into town with one thing on his mind . . . to make my life a living nightmare. So why did I say yes? Well, because we both need something from each other. Namely, I want the farm land he currently owns, and he needs a wife in order to inherit his family cabin in his grandfather’s will. So as he so eloquently put it, my hand, for his land.

After failing my last semester of grad school, I decided to come back to my hometown and wallow in my boyfriend’s sympathetic arms. Instead, he proceeded to dump me...for being boring! Now, I'm not typically a spiteful person, but there's only so much I can take. Hence why I’m holding the box of his most cherished possessions...stolen possessions no less!

I have two responsibilities as the new heir to the throne: Get married and ave babies. Sure, becoming queen one day is part of those new responsibilities, but as long as King Theo is in charge, I don't have to add a coronation to my list.

Running into your ex is never ideal. Running into your ex who is now dating your nemesis is a literal nightmare. That’s how I found myself in a sheer panic, reaching for the closest guy at the bar and kissing him. And to my delight he was easily the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.

Ryot Bisley is my husband. Yes, the former third baseman for the Chicago Rebels and absolute heartthrob of the Windy City. That Ryot Bisley. The first time I ran into him, he was grumpy, a horrific host, and left me on his sofa with nothing but a nylon baseball flag to use as a blanket.

An unexpected steamy yet laugh-out-loud royal romance.

I knocked up my best friend's sister. Let's start with how she decided to inform me and Pacey the news...together. Imagine that nightmare. I was going into what I thought was a hockey marketing meeting, and then bam! I'm going to be a dad and my best friend/teammate is attempting to imprint my face with his fist. Threats were tossed around, friendships were revoked, and then I was marched up to her apartment, suitcases in hand, and forced to live with her so I could take care of her every need. Now I'm finding it harder and harder not to fall for my best friend's little sister.

I was hanging with the girls, celebrating my divorce, when I saw him - my crush, sitting in the corner of the bar, all alone. Being single and looking for a wild night, I asked him if he wanted to join me. To my delight, he said yes. On paper, it seemed like I had hit the jackpot. And if I wasn't fresh from a toxic marriage, I would have absolutely noticed the finer things about him. But, I wanted nothing to do with being married, so when I arrived back home from my eventful weekend in Vegas, the last thing I expected to see was a new doting husband already moved in.

Five hockey players, a cabin in the woods...and little old me, Winnie Berlin. Sounds like the start of a fantasy, right? But it's not. It's my reality. It all started when I got lost in the middle of the Canadian Rockies. A wicked thunderstorm sent my car mud sliding into a ditch, and for a girl whose survival skills involve finding the nearest Starbucks, I was in deep trouble. Forced to abandon my car in search of help, I stumbled upon a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

"She went home with someone else that night?" I would like to make it known, I have a lot more swagger than what it seems. I don't normally ask a girl out, have her fail to recognize it's a date, and then give me a high five - as if I'm her wingman - and take off with someone else. No. Normally I'm the one taking the girl home, but with Stella, it's been one failed attempt after another and frankly, I'm done trying. But thanks to my best friend getting married in Hawaii right before the school year starts, I'm stuck on a tropical island.

It started with one night out with the boys. She was the hot diner waitress putting herself through school. I was the rich, arrogant player everyone misjudges. On paper, we didn’t match. Yet all it took was one day. One single day to change her mind. She wasn’t planning to spend her day off with me. She wasn’t supposed to fall for my charm. But one day, one smile, turned into several nights of her calling out my name. I’m not the guy she should end up with. I’m jealous, possessive. Not here for a long time - just a good time. She’s changed me.

I haven't seen her in three years. I haven't talked to her since the kiss. So why am I on a plane, flying across the world to spend a week with her in Germany? One word: Pops. My life’s a mess. My possible football career is hanging on by a thread. I'm driving the roads of Germany in honor of Pops with the one girl I can never have. And I’m sharing a bed with her, the girl I've measured everyone else up to, while desperately trying to not to touch her. We made a pact growing up, never to get romantic with each other - never fall in love.

I’d like to preface this by saying it was never my intention to ever get involved in a workplace romance, let alone get involved with the most surly, agitating, and pompous man I’ve ever met who just so happens to be my new friend’s brother. My intentions were to show students how English and reading books could actually be fun and make a new life for myself in the suburbs of Chicago.

Let me ask you a question: If someone is vying for your spot on a team and just so happens to injure you during practice, would you believe it was on purpose? Word around campus is...it was no accident. That injury has cost me everything - my starting position, my junior year, and the draft. Now, I’m a senior fresh off recovery, struggling to find my groove, until the day I run into a nervous, fidgety girl with freckles in the dining hall.

Want to know a secret? It's about that girl over there. Don’t look, but she’s the one in the power suit with the long, black hair and the serious expression. The one I’m about to go on a date with. Yeah, according to her, she “accidentally” donated an obscene amount of money to my charity - The Lineup - to win said date, but I found out the truth.

Have you heard the rumor around campus about the locker room? If you haven't, let me enlighten you: Legend has it, if you bring a girl into the sacred aftergame domain of the baseball locker room, it will end with a walk down the aisle. But not all baseball players are superstitious, me included. So, when the girl I've fallen for brushes me off, I start to question if I need to switch my way of thinking. Maybe, it's time I finally hand out a coveted invitation to the locker room. The only question is, will she accept?

What does one do when they completely blow an interview? If you're me, you pick up a one-night stand with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.. That's right, after a lousy interview that could have changed everything for me, I headed over to the local small town bar to sulk when the one man I shouldn't want walked in. And when my friend convinced me to take him back to my hotel room, I didn't think about it, I just did it . . . well, I did him.