Vino & Veritas Series

Harrison Phillip Fletcher III isn't supposed to be here. Not in Burlington, Vermont, not running Vino & Veritas, a quaint inclusive bookstore and wine bar, and definitely not still alive, at 42. Also not supposed to be here? An unexpected delivery of chickens. Finn Barnes knows chickens. The burly organic farmer knows all about rare breed poultry, but dealing with a hot older bookseller is an entirely different matter. City-slicker types like Harrison never end up staying in Vermont for the long-term. They should steer clear of each other. But the flare of attraction is mutual.

I'm not the obvious choice to run Burlington's coolest wine bar - quiet, brooding, clueless about tannin content, and always one wrong turn away from another downward spiral. But no one seems to mind that I'm a wreck. Besides me. I just focus on getting through each shift until the night a beautiful stranger appears, looking as lost and damaged as I feel.

When I first met Whit, I couldn't get away from him fast enough. He's a hockey player, and I hate everything to do with the sport that broke my heart. But I can't help feeling sorry for the guy. He's newly out and desperate to meet someone, but his eagerness seems to scare potential hook-ups away. Agreeing to be his wingman should've been simple. Watching him flirt with other guys made things complicated.

Rich kid. Party boy. Gabe is tired of the labels. He's a smart guy, but ever since he got kicked out of grad school, people are only interested in his no-limit credit card and his pierced ears...and other places. Tall, dark, and scowling Alec hates Vermont, with its artisanal-freaking-everything and its irritating people. To be fair, most people irritate Alec, including the FBI director who sent him here to investigate a smuggling scheme involving yoga mats.

Brent Weyland was the life of the party until an injury ended his hockey career. Now he's retreated alone to a lakefront house, trying to make sense of a life and body that doesn't feel like his anymore. Jon Norquist was happily married right up until he wasn't. Now a single father in his 40s, he's trying to figure out what comes next. In the meantime, he pours his heartache and regret into the lyrics he sings for the wine bar crowd a couple of nights a week. When a friend coaxes Brent out for a night of wine and music, he puts Brent and Jon on a collision course.

Jamie Morin's college GPA drops every time a cow breaks through a fence, but he's determined to get his degree and keep his parents' Vermont dairy farm afloat. He'd rather be reading than milking, but he can't let his family down...not the way his brother did. So the last thing he needs is distraction in the form of an irresistible bookseller with a mysterious backstory. 

After being rejected one too many times, Chelsea makes a bold vow: No more men. Her friends doubt a boy-crazy party girl can handle not dating for a year, but that only makes Chelsea more determined. Tara has made a vow, too. After growing up in foster care and suppressing herself to please others, she's going to live her truth. When she sees a beautiful woman, she'll make her attraction known. Chelsea appreciates Tara's flirtatious compliments, not to mention her androgynous beauty. There's a loophole in Chelsea's vow, and it's more tempting every day.

After becoming an inadvertent viral sensation - and losing her job and her girlfriend as a result - Phoebe Shaw retreats to Vermont. Renovating her late grandmother's cabin into a vacation rental seems like the perfect way to lie low for a while. But the last person she expects to encounter on the property is the woman whose kiss was her teenage sexual awakening...and whom she's never quite forgotten.

I don't have time for an unplanned visit home to help out in my father's struggling letterpress shop. My stint in Vermont will have to be short, for a couple of reasons: One, I'm a busy executive trying to climb the corporate ladder. Two, my ex is still my dad's right-hand man in the shop. And I am not over him.

I fled Boston and my cheating jerk of an ex with $300 and a lip gloss in my pocket. Waking up the next day in Burlington, Vermont, with a crick in my back and a frozen ass wasn't exactly in the plan. If there was one. Which there wasn't. Story of my life. Three hours later and I've been hired as temporary help in the local veterinary and grooming clinic, which is kind of impressive since I know zip about animals and even less about grooming. But one thing I do know - I'm crushing hard on the sexy, absentminded vet for whom I work.

This job sucks but someone's got to do it. My readers expect me to chronicle my very real, very steamy encounters in my novels. I'd never want to disappoint my fans, but the creative well has run a bit dry. Burlington, Vermont, seems like a good place to fill it up. This town offers a tempting array of artists, craftsmen, farmers, lumbersexuals . . . and so many beards. But no one prepared me for Brody. He's young. He's hot. He's definitely a grump. And he's getting under my skin. Where I want him is under my bed sheets.

Liam Luckett is on an adventure. He's dropped out of his master's program without telling his overbearing parents and set off on a road trip across the country. Armed with little more than his guitar, he's looking for his best life. He never expected his car to break down in the middle of nowhere Vermont with a huge storm pending, leaving him stranded and at the mercy of a hunky local mechanic.

Sean Anderson has spent his life waiting to get the hell out of West Virginia. His plans got derailed when his dad shipped him off to "pray the gay away", but he's over it, ready to prove that he's a grown-ass man who can take care of himself. Of course, he'd have a better chance convincing himself if he could stop lusting after his grumpy roommate.

When Skyler spots the new bartender at Vino and Veritas, his body responds before the guy even turns around. But when he does, it takes only a heartbeat for recognition to set in and for sparks to fly. Judson's been gone for ten years, but he's the man Skyler never forgot. Or forgave.

After my band kicked me out, I ran away to Vermont, changed my name, and kept my head down. So far, it's working and nobody knows who I am. Or who I was. Until I see geeky poet Caleb stumbling through his first open mic night and I can't help rescuing him. He's as sweet as the honey my bees make and sexy enough to make me rethink so many things. But I can't tell him my secret, or I'll lose the anonymous life I worked so hard to build.

One night with Reeve Hale wasn't enough. I knew it when I kissed him, I knew it when I slept with him, and I was certain of it when I walked out of his motel room the very next day. So when the shy, gorgeous man is introduced as our newest employee at Vino and Veritas, I can't help but conjure up all the ridiculous ways to convince him to repeat that unforgettable night. Like asking him to be my fake boyfriend at my sister's upcoming wedding. Only, I didn't expect him to say yes.

I swore I wouldn’t do this again. Mix sports, school, and sex. But right now the only thing standing between me and the NHL is six feet of frenemy packed into a pair of form-fitting jeans that have me thinking all kinds of things I shouldn’t. I don’t just want Kolby. I need him. Because I’ve got to pass this theater class—yeah, I said theater—if I’m going to keep my spot on the team. When tutoring sessions turn into dates-not-dates over Shipley Cider at Vino and Veritas, I realize it’s going to be harder than I thought to keep my hands on my stick and off of Kolby.

My new roommate has the worst taste in men. I mean, Murph's special. He's funny and flamboyant and full of life. While I'm straight, even I can tell these guys aren't good enough for him. I had to yell at one date, toss another one out the door, and throw a beer in another's face. Kind of embarrassing, really. I don't know what's gotten into me. I ask my sister what's wrong with me and she says I'm jealous. Jealous? Please. Me? Come on. Only thing is, I hate the thought of Murph kissing any guy. Ever. Except, maybe . . . me?