The list of things I hate is short. Not even my soon-to-be ex-husband is on that list. Nope. I save only the worst of the worst, the crème de la crème, the absolute I cannot even for this list: black coffee, rude people, and Nathaniel Bradley. Which is why when my father informs me that he’s making Nathaniel Bradley his new business partner, and in turn, my boss, I flip out. I go into this knowing I’ll hate every second in his presence. Except the longer he’s around, the more I find myself staring at his lips and remembering the one time they were on mine.

Everyone in the city knows who I am: Vincent Citrione, top capo of the most powerful crime family in the city. If you’ve got two brain cells to rub together, you’re scared sh*tless of me. As for women, I give them the hardest, dirtiest f*ck of their lives before showing them the door. They know better than to expect more. Commitments? F*ck ‘em. At least, that was my motto until I caught her snooping in the wrong place at the wrong time. Aubriella. I wanted her to be like all the rest of the girls. I wanted to forget her. But I can’t forget her lush curves...

I was issued a warning: stay away from Ben Rosenberg. As Clifton Cove's resident "king", he thinks he's entitled to anyone and anything. The trouble is, I've spent my whole life following the rules and playing it safe. I know what it feels like to be the good girl. I'm the police chief's daughter and a librarian - for adorable children, no less. An all-nighter with a fictional hunk is about as exciting as my life gets until one day, fate decides to take pity on me and shove me straight into the path of Mr. Off-Limits himself.

When a vicious attack leaves 25-year-old Clementine Johns with no memory, she’s forced to start over. Now she has figure out who she was and why she made the choices she did - which includes leaving the supposed love of her life, tattoo artist Ed Larsen, only a month before. Ed can hardly believe it when his ex shows up at his tattoo parlor with no memory of their past, asking about the breakup that nearly destroyed him. The last thing he needs is more heartache, but he can’t seem to let her go again. Should they walk away for good, or does their love deserve a repeat performance?

I can still pinpoint the exact second when my life became two truths and a lie. You don't forget delivering a mountain of fresh-baked sweets to a man like Dexter Rory. I never wanted to see his scowling, bossy, brutally godlike face again, no matter how well he tipped. If you told me I'd wind up wearing his ring, I would've died laughing. But here I am, trying to cling to my sanity while I confront the undeniable.