Alina Jacobs

Someone is breaking into my house… and cleaning my kitchen. At first, I think I’ve lost my mind. Then I decide it’s kinda nice—until the death threats start.

When a flaming dead body drops out of the town Christmas tree and crashes through your ceiling, it’s safe to say this Christmas will not be merry or bright. Now my crazy ex-best friend is telling everyone in town I killed Dr. Merriweather.

When your wedding-crazy, septuagenarian grandmother arranges a contest to see which of her granddaughters marries first, you have to bring out the big guns. And my billionaire boss Blade’s guns are banging....

Two weeks ago, I was an optimistic office girl with a Pinterest vision board and a dream. Now? I’m standing in a billionaire’s penthouse office, trying not to throw a donut at his smug, perfect face. McCarthy Svensson is my new boss-slash-personal tormentor.

I wanted to wallow in peace. Not have a rebound with an obnoxious best man. Too bad he looks so good covered in frosting....

Armed with comfy pants, overpriced coffee, and a highly anxious emotional-support corgi, I prepare to face him. Corporate boss. Villain. Salinger Svensson. I step into his office. His perfect mouth twists into a sneer.

When you're a blacklisted preschool teacher and somehow end up coaching the worst team in the NHL, it's shaping up to be the crappiest Christmas ever. We’re adding an NHL head-coaching job to the Yule log dumpster fire of my holiday season.

What was the worst day of my life ever? Today. My wedding day. Not because I married a man I’d never met but because my husband, Wolf Van de Berg, hates my freaking guts—and the feeling is mutual....

Christmas is bad enough without all the music, frantic shopping sprees, and holiday parties. So many parties… with people you couldn’t stand in high school and definitely can’t stand now.

In my defense, I never claimed to be professional.... At least that’s my excuse for why I mistook a billionaire for a waiter, made off-color comments, and accidentally dumped a plate of food all over him....

I am always fully in control of my company, my family, and my life. Even my diet is perfectly regulated - that includes no candy. Except when my new assistant sprays chocolate sauce all over me and passes out drunk in my car, it marks the point where my control over everything starts to...

The Maxine Hotel was supposed to be mine. I invested my meager savings into the upkeep. I slept in a freezing-cold attic like Cinderella, but with way more wine. Then Mike Svensson swaggers in with his billions and his bad attitude, steals the hotel from me, and starts bossing me around....

After the first taste of her Christmas cookies I wanted to shove the whole thing in my face. The whole plate of cookies, that is. Not...you know. Christmas is bad enough without one of The Great Christmas Bake-Off contestants all wrapped up in a bow under my tree....

The only consolation of working for free at my Gran’s failing restaurant? Weston freaking Svensson, with whom I’d had a reputation ruining encounter with in high school, wasn’t in town. That is, until he walks into the restaurant, arm in arm with the high school mean girl....

Beck Svensson fired me right before rent was due and in the middle of a rainstorm. That’s why he’s at the top of my hate list, along with pickles, people who steal other people’s lunches out of the office fridge, and trying to fold a fitted sheet....

When you kiss your perfect boyfriend under the mistletoe...only for your cousin scream to the family that you stole her man, you realize that you will never again have a merry Christmas.

My butt pads are sliding under my shape wear, I had to starve to fit in this dress, and the last place on earth I want to be is on a date with Walker Svensson....

Hire a hitman to take out my cheating ex? It was an eggnog-fueled mistake, I swear! On Christmas Eve, my perfect fiancé stands up at the altar to declare his pure undying love… for my evil stepsister.

At first glance (an upward glance because he was tall), Greg Svensson seemed perfect. Six-feet-five of solid muscle with washboard abs and a tower with his name on it, Greg was a guy my parents would actually begrudgingly admire. I had our future all planned out....

When I first laid eyes on the curvy brunette, she made me a drink then said I made her wet. I couldn't pass up the invitation. I wanted her to paint me like one of her French boys. Before I walked out of her dinky small town cafe, I left my card, all black. Hazel: I turn weird and awkward...