A honeymoon should be one of the most romantic experiences of your life. For Emilee Sanders, it was - it just wasn't with her husband. ***** An anxious paralegal finds herself where no bride should be on the week of her wedding. Single. Stuck taking a honeymoon alone, Emilee Sanders finds herself trapped at a Bali beach resort that's spilling with couples and romance. However, she's not the only single person on this beach. Mysterious and gorgeous Logan Hodge, a newly graduated physician, is on his own solo vacation to escape realities from back home. Shielding their true identities from each other, the two create new ones as Emmy and Hodge - a couple celebrating their honeymoon. The two weeks of steamy, romantic bliss should end with no more than fake names and lone trips home to their real lives, but life may have more in store for them. Content/Trigger Warning: the story contains scenes of mature sexual content and possibly triggering content around rape. [[word count: 150,000-200,000 words]] Cover designed by April Alforque

When aspiring writer Marcie is hired as the personal assistant to her all-time favorite author, Rosalind Lindbergh, she expects to be learning the ins and outs of the industry - not fending off red-hot feelings that aren't exactly "workplace appropriate." Season 1 of Romancing The Writer *** Willing to do anything to prove she has it together, unemployed writer/perpetual screw-up Marcella Harper somehow manages to land her second-place dream job: personal assistant to her personal hero, best-selling author Rosalind Lindbergh. Brutally dumped less than 24 hours after her first day, Marcie discovers that there may be no better distraction than her new job ... and new boss. After all, Marcie has had a crush on über-famous, ultra-hot Roz since high school. And - although she promised Marcie their relationship was strictly professional - Roz might just be returning her awkward, bumbling advances. When lines begin to blur and career prospects end up on the line, Marcie is sure of one thing: either she gives up on her dreams, or her dream woman. "You know, they have tutorials online for this kind of thing," I tell her. "You know, I hired a personal assistant for this kind of thing," she retorts. And then, we both stand there, awkwardly close. We watch the coffee sputter, then begin to pour. Neither of us utters a word. And, when it's done pouring, neither of us reach for it. "Are you ... not gonna take your coffee?" I finally ask. It's quiet. Tentative. "Oh. Right."