Alina Jacobs

When you’re the family disaster, you don’t beg Santa for a holiday miracle—you just try not to commit any felonies before Christmas. Unfortunately, I start the holiday season by running over a man with my grandfather’s Cadillac. So naturally, I panic, stuff his corpse into the trunk, and...

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...

When you catch your fiancé cheating on you with your sister on Christmas Eve, the elf hat comes off. Ive always been the good girlthe helper, the one who eats her food cold so her guests are taken care of, who volunteers at nursing homes, who bakes cookies for her neighbors, and who stays late...

In my defense, my twin sister is engaged to the love of my life. Ok, so he’s my ex of two weeks, but I have totally been in love with him since we were kids....

There comes a time in every almost-thirty-year-old woman’s life when getting kidnapped off the street is preferable to admitting that the hot, rich boyfriend you’ve been bragging about for months does not, in fact, exist. Yes, it’s terrifying being stuffed in the trunk of a Mercedes, but I...

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.

Slaughter, you say? Well, youd be ready to rampage, too, if you had to listen to Jingle Bell Rock for the eleven thousandth time. Christmas is bad enough without all the music, frantic shopping sprees, and holiday parties. So many parties with people you couldnt stand in high school and...

When the townspeople of Harrogate almost riot over the Christmas décor thievery committed by the chair of the Elf on the Shelf Committee, I know Im not going to survive the holiday season unless drastic action is taken. Biddy Jefferson turning up dead in my Christmas market stall is not exactly...

I might not be able to ruin his life, but I will ruin his Christmas. Yeah, I’m totally a grinch. But I come by it honestly. Because of Oliver Frost, I flamed out of college in the most humiliating way possible. Now I’m back in my small town—just in time to suffer through a display of...

I admit it was me who shouted, “Looking good, hot stuff!” at Mr. Richmond this morning, but I didn’t mean it like that. Yes, Mrs. HR Lady, I know how it looks. Believe me, I am totally anti-catcalling, but that’s not what that was. Honest. I was paying him a compliment! That’s kind of...

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

When Greg Svensson crossed my path four years ago, I should have just let him keep on walking...right into the street to get hit by a bus. But I was weak....

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....

The Thanksgiving turkey is still warm, and I’m already up to my eyeballs in debt from my failed business....

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....

Crash-land on an alien barbarian planet and told there’s no way home? Anyone else might have a nervous breakdown, but I was abducted with my besties! Between us, we have fifteen PhDs. We will be getting off this planet. Trust. Except that our spaceship had stowaways....

There’s a hot alien male living in my apartment…and he hates my guts. Vidanric reminds me daily that he despises Earth and wants to go home. He’s miserable, and so am I—even though I can’t help but admire the view when he’s standing shirtless in my kitchen making a smoothie. Loudly...

I have no alternatives—I have to throw myself to Carl Svensson’s mercy like a wretched Victorian romance heroine in order to save my dog. I wish all I had to do was lounge around a haunted mansion in a pretty dress....

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....

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....