I grew up in a family full of wealthy celebrities. My father, Luke Williams, is the celebrity of all celebrities. A superstar actor and producer, my father knows the downside of living in the spotlight. And because of that, he sheltered my siblings and me from everything Hollywood entailed. We didn’t attend premieres. We weren’t photographed. There were no friendships with other celebrities’ children. But now, at 25, I’m ready to start my life, working for my father’s production company in downtown Seattle—until Vaughn Barrymore walks through the door.

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.

Goal: Find a boyfriend, get married, buy a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence, and pop out 2.5 kids. Deadline: Sixty days. That's possible, right? There is no doubt that, this year, home for the holidays takes on a whole new, terrifying meaning. I have to travel from New York City - my home and safe haven for the last 15 years - to my tiny hometown in Vermont for Christmas, my baby sister's wedding, and my high school reunion.