Accidentally Marrying

My research trip to do list: study ruins, take notes. Try not to drool over my insanely hot professor.

Then Professor Vale and I stumble on an ancient altar in the forest.
There’s chanting.
There’s glowing.
There’s… accidental marriage. It's magical and apparently legally binding according to local laws.
Yep. We’re bonded. Spiritually, magically, and, um. Very, very intimately.
Now we can’t stop thinking about each other.
Or touching each other. Or sneaking off into the forest to “research” each other under the stars.
It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Except that Rowan wants to break the bond...and I don't.

MIKE : I don’t believe in romance. I believe in efficiency and problem-solving.
So agreeing to marry a princess I’ve never met isn’t impulsive—it’s practical.
Except Evelyn is nothing like I expect. She’s funny, down-to-earth, and completely unflappable. Gorgeous curves aside, she’s far too calm about marrying a stranger.
I assume she’s adaptable. Tough. Ready for the reality of this marriage.
Turns out, she thinks it’s fake.
By the time the truth comes out, it’s already too late. Because I didn’t marry a princess.
I married a civilian with a sharp wit, zero fear, and no intention of following my rules—and now I want the one woman I was never supposed to keep.

EVELYN : I came to Las Vegas for an immersive murder-mystery game.
So the bridal suite and wedding gown make sense. At first.
My groom, Mike, is charming, intense, and ridiculously handsome. He whisks me to a cute chapel, slips a stunning ring on my finger, and kisses me like he means it.
WOWZA.
Then reality hits.
He thought he was marrying a princess. I thought it was all pretend.
Now I’m legally married to a man who thrives on control, treats emotions like a design flaw, and looks at me like I’m a problem he didn’t plan for—which is wildly inconvenient, because he might be the best decision I’ve ever accidentally made.

One tiny oops, and I’m married to a mafia boss.

I’m the stand-in maid of honour, he’s the silver fox uncle of the groom who saves the day when the wedding becomes a disaster, with a fluffy ring-bearer gone rogue, a drunk priest, and a child with perfect comic timing.

But the dream Italian wedding continues, and the uncle—Dante—and I sign as witnesses.

And if I try to flirt with him, I blame the romantic setting and the fact that although he’s twice my age, he’s the hottest man I’ve ever met.

His edge of danger, with his tattoos and the way everyone is nervous of him, gossiping that he’s a morally gray billionaire, only makes me want him more.

He turns me down with a touch to my cheek and a hoarse murmur that I’m too young and innocent for a man like him.

Back at home, my dull little life doesn't compare. Then a wedding certificate arrives at my door.

There’s been a mix up, and I’m married. To him.

When you’re straight out of journalism school and on your first foreign assignment, but there’s a military coup.

So you follow the hot guy in the James-Bond-style suit who seems to know what he’s doing.

And as you hide out in a jungle villa, you sign a paper that you think is a continuity accord necessary to stay safe, but it turns out to be a legally binding marriage. So now, you’re hitched to a stranger who can’t be tied down, for national security reasons, but somehow, he's captured your heart.

As if that isn’t challenging enough, you also have to figure out how to make it out of the country without becoming the rebels’ hostage.

I signed a document without reading the fine print and got tricked into a jailhouse wedding.

I thought I was signing a waiver to attend a dance with a randomly assigned inmate as part of a new outreach program at the prison where my mom met my dad. I accidentally signed a marriage license instead.

Thanks to Mom’s trick and her hankering for a grandbaby, I’m now legally responsible for housing and feeding the scariest, bossiest man I’ve ever met for the next three years.

But a baby and happily ever after with the brutally handsome felon fourteen years my senior are not in my plans. Nor are they in his.

So we’ll grin and bear it as nothing more than reluctant roommates, and then we’ll go our separate ways…right?

Sawyer :  I moved to Montana for peace and quiet after years as a Navy SEAL. Trees instead of cities. Wind instead of gunfire. But a man gets lonely out here, with a cabin full of silence.
So when a matchmaking auction offers a way to help someone start over—and maybe find something real in the process—I figure… why not?
I wasn’t expecting Jessie. Flaming red hair. Freckles that beg for kisses. And eyes that look like she’s tired of being what everyone else needs her to be.
I definitely wasn’t expecting the county to send us a marriage certificate.
Turns out, thanks to one tiny filing error, Jessie and I are legally husband and wife.
Jessie : I didn’t mean to marry him. I meant to find a clean slate—a place to breathe without the weight of other people’s expectations crushing my ribs.
I signed a cohabitation agreement, not a marriage license. But now it’s official. Sawyer “Tank” Granger is my husband. On paper.
And in the quiet of his mountain cabin—with his steady presence and the way he lets me be exactly who I am for the first time in years… it doesn’t feel like a mistake at all.

I accidentally married a cowboy... and he’s not giving me back.

It was supposed to be fake.
We got married on stage in a Vegas bar—part of a rodeo weekend promotion promising prize money to the couple brave enough to say I do.
Win the cash, kiss for the crowd, walk away richer. Easy.

Only it wasn’t.
Because one night with him was enough to ruin me.
That smile. That drawl. That body pressed against mine in the honeymoon suite.
Now the marriage is real.
At least for thirty days.

And my new cowboy husband?
He’s not acting like this is temporary.
Every touch, every kiss, every possessive look says he’s already claimed me.
And by the way he’s looking at me, thirty days won’t be nearly long enough.

I was just trying to stop my best friend from marrying the man she’d just met. Then a bleeding Russian mobster decides to use me as cover because rival gangsters are hunting him down. Zakhar Maksimov is a Bratva Pakhan. He’s ruthless, dangerous, and stupid hot, even while dodging bullets. He also can’t keep his eyes off me… And somewhere between the shootout and our escape, we accidentally get married! Now he’s insisting that I stay at his mansion, in his room, for my “safety.” Right…

I should run, call the cops, do literally anything but fall for the mob boss who keeps calling me “wife.” But how do you resist a gorgeous, infuriating, overprotective Pakhan who decided you’re his?

Melissa : Everybody knows that when you get married on a booze cruise, the wedding only lasts as long as you’re at sea, right? It seems like our captain didn’t follow that rule, and now I have to hunt down the big, bad biker I’ve known forever to tell him that our three-day cruise was actually our legal honeymoon. Duck’s still holding a grudge about me giving him his nickname. He’ll never let me live this down.
Duck : When we first met, I thought Mel was a sweet young thing. She’s spent two decades proving me wrong. Today I finally get my revenge when she arrives in Lonesome looking for an annulment. At first, we delay to protect her from her ex-husband, but I quickly realize that the longer I stall, the more time I have to talk her into turning our drunken vacation prank into a stone cold sober lifetime commitment.

Jeff Rosehill is famously single. So hundreds of fans are super excited to get married on the field, alongside the legendary baseball player turned manager of the league’s best team—and his bride, the mascot.

Little does he know, the regular guy-in-the-costume is sick.

Plus the paperwork the cute girl from Public Relations signed before she filled in? Accidentally very real.
It’s me. I’m the cute girl from PR. The one Mr. Rosehill has never looked twice at. And I’m holding a marriage certificate that says I’m the new Mrs. Rosehill.