
Tiffenie may be three hundred years old, but she’s still a hot mess. The vampire is tragically single, works a dead-end job at a blood bank, and spends her nights marathoning Hallmark Channel movies with her cat.
When Tiffenie inherits a fixer-upper home in Valentine, Vermont, thanks to a case of mistaken (okay, stolen) identity, she seizes the chance to get her life back on track. With her newly undead neighbor (it was an accident!) in tow, Tiffenie is determined to live out her holiday rom-com dreams in this picture-perfect town.
But between the mystery of her stolen identity, small-town drama, and the arrival of her insufferable vampire ex-boyfriend Vlad, getting her happily ever after with a hot Christmas tree farmer won’t be easy. To uncover what she truly desires, Tiffenie must embark on a journey of self-acceptance for the first time in her immortal life. Luckily, it’s never too late to start therapy.






Recently divorced Gabby Greene spends most of her days listening to self-help books while wrangling her loving yet erratic kids. During a decade of marriage, Gabby shoved aside her own career and ambitions to make room for mountains of laundry, running errands, and investigating the case of the missing socks. Her number one suspect: their Bichon Frise, Mr. Bubbles.
All that changes when a secret government agency comes knocking on Gabby's door, asking her to go undercover. At first, she thinks some reality show is pranking her, but apparently, she bears a striking resemblance to an agent recently murdered, and… well, desperate missions call for desperate measures. Soon Gabby is juggling motherhood and a crash course in Spying 101, led by a handsome James Bond-type who has secrets of his own.
As Gabby embarks on a dangerous mission involving money laundering, a Russian oligarch, and an unfortunate incident with a prosthetic nose, she begins to realize that she is far from the invisible housewife she once believed herself to be, and that maybe, just maybe, she might be capable of saving the day.







Mia might look like a Millennial but she was born yesterday. Emerging from a coma with short-term amnesia after an accident, Mia can’t remember her own name until the Siri assistant on her iPhone provides it. Based on her cool hairstyle (undercut with glamorous waves), dress (Prada), and signature lipstick (Chanel), she senses she’s wealthy, but the only way to know for sure is to retrace her steps once she leaves the hospital. Using Instagram and Uber, she arrives at the pink duplex she calls home in her posts but finds Max, a cute, off-duty postdoc supplementing his income with a house-sitting gig. He tells her the house belongs to JP, a billionaire with a chocolate empire. A few texts later, JP confirms her wildest dreams: they’re in love, Mia is living the good life, and he’ll be back that weekend.
But as Mia and Max work backward through her Instagram and across Los Angeles to learn more about her, they discover an ugly truth behind her perfect Instagram feed, and evidence that her head wound was no accident. Did Mia have it coming? And if so, is it too late for her to rewrite her story?







Gabby Greene: Secret agent. Mother of two. Figuring it out as she goes along.
After her divorce, Gabby never expected that she’d be this close to having it all. Spying with a hot handler who’s an expert in after-hours under-the-covers work was not on her current bingo card. But balancing romance, espionage, and school lunches is a job for a magician, not a secret agent. Gabby will just have to keep dreamy Markus at arms-length . . .
Easier said than done. Her next mission, should she choose to accept it: Pretend to be Markus’s fiancée so they can infiltrate a Power Couples Retreat to see whether the group is selling national security secrets (in addition to questionable beauty products).
To avert a national crisis, Gabby and Markus will need to look like they’re in love, planning their wedding—and enjoying the honeymoon cottage. Faking a relationship with the perfect man without actually falling for him? Piece of calorie-free cake, right?