S.J. Tilly

Moving into my dad’s house at age 32 because my roommate scammed me out of my rent…not exactly what I’d call winning at life. So on my drive to Colorado, I decide I need one more night of freedom, and the cute motel on the side of the road is the perfect place to stop.

Running away from home at 17 wasn't easy. Let's face it, though, nothing before or in the ten years since has ever been easy for me. And I'm doing okay—sorta. I just need to keep scraping by, living under the radar. Staying out of people's way, off people's minds....

When I was nine, I went to my first funeral. Along with accepting my father's death, I had to accept new and awful truths I wasn't prepared for. Sure, I have a half-brother who runs The Alliance. And yeah, he's given me his protection—in the form of a bodyguard and chauffeur....

Okay, so my bad for assuming the guy I was going on a date with wasn't married. And my bad for taking him to a friend's house for dinner, only to find out my friend is also friends with his wife. Because, in fact, he is married....

I’m just so exhausted—always living on the edge of desperation, one paycheck away from ruin. But this new job… It could be the fresh start I need. It could change everything. The contract is only for three months, but if I keep my head down, work hard, and prove myself, maybe I could stay longer.

I'm a dangerous man. A man who has spent the last two decades removing so many souls from this earth that it's a miracle my hands aren't permanently stained red....

I have a nice life—living in my hometown and owning the coffee shop I’ve worked at since I was 16. It’s comfortable on paper, but I’m tired of doing everything by myself. Tired of being in charge of every decision in my life. I want someone to lean on, someone to spend time with, sit with, hug....

I should have run the other way. Paid my tab and gone back to my room. But he was there. And he was…everything....

Maddox Lovelace. The captivating football player I met in college. The one I only knew for a week. A week that was...life-changing. Until my phone rang, and I had no choice but to go home.

I was eight when Nathan moved away. He was my best friend. My only friend. My safe space. And then he was gone. And my life turned into Hell. But I survived. I broke free and made a life for myself. And I tried to forget about the boy who grew up to be Nate Waller, the famous football player.

I fell in love with Beckett when I was 7. He broke my heart when I was 15. When I was 18, I promised myself I’d forget about him. And I did. For a dozen years. But now he’s back home. Here. In Darling Lake....

Watch the girl. It was supposed to be a simple assignment. But, like everything else in this family, there’s nothing simple about it. Not my task. Not her fake name. And not my feelings for her....

When a holiday baking competition goes incredibly wrong. Or right…

I caught her staring at me from across the quad, eyes fixed on the football jersey stretched across my wide chest. And if I flexed my muscles, showing off the strength of a defensive tackle, it was just to see her blush. And then she did, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind.

There are a few things that life doesn’t prepare you for. Like what to do when a super-hot guy catches you sneaking around in his basement, or what to do when a mysterious package shows up with tickets to a hockey game (because, apparently, he’s a professional athlete)....

I’m so sick of watching the world spin by, of letting people think I’m plain and boring, too afraid to just be myself. Then I see him—John. He’s strength, and fury, and unapologetic. He’s everything I want. And everything I wish I was....

My trip to Mexico for my cousin's wedding was only supposed to be a few days of obligation and oceanside. I wasn't expecting Luke.

My friends have convinced me: no more hockey players. With a dad who is the Head Coach for the Minnesota Sleet, it seemed like an easy decision. My friends have also convinced me that the best way to boost my fragile self-esteem is through a one-night stand....

My friends found their happily-ever-afters with a couple of sweet, doting, over-the-top, in-love athletes. They got nicknames like Kitten and Sugar. But me? I got stuck with a dickhead who riles me up on purpose and calls me Banshee.