I fired off a storm of raunchy text messages…to the wrong number. And he replied. Him: Show me a picture. Him: Tell me your name. Why does the lure of anonymity have me craving to indulge a stranger? It’s the start of everything right. I received a slew of text messages…when everything in my life was wrong. And she made me laugh again. Her: You’re probably a creeper. Her: Possibly a stalker. Why do I have the overwhelming need to find this stranger who saved me and make her mine? Him: Take a chance with me. Her: This is crazy. Him: I need to see you. Her: What are we doing? Him: We’re about to find out. Her: PHOTO ATTACHED Him: PHOTO ATTACHED

    However, what will her fate be when she endeavors to flag down the only lifeguard on duty, the enormously popular and ridiculously beautiful Tristan Daniels? The most sought after and virtually most unattainable guy in school who not only makes Camie’s heart flatline on a recurring basis, he’s also the one guy who seemingly doesn’t know she exists.Feeling like an inept piece of chum that could ultimately be swallowed by Jaws, can Camie get Tristan to rescue her from floundering in the treacherous deep, or is she destined to be Shark Bait?Author's Note: While the tales themselves are fictional, some of the events and characters are very loosely based in reality and on my experiences—but don’t worry, the names of the characters, most of their unfortunate fashion sense and/or questionable taste in music has been changed to protect the not-so innocent. Due to language and some adult content, this book may not be suitable for readers under the age of 16.

     So he's written another guide, full of "helpful advice," for all the horny lil' punks that think they stand a chance of getting near his angel Presley. ***WARNING: This WAS written by Sawyer Beckett, so prepare yourself... no tellin' what he'll say, or how he'll say it.

    With a fantastic pair of shoes on the line for the woman who makes it to the end without breaking any rules, the competition gets fierce. Sparks fly a few days into the bet when Grace and her friends cross paths with a sexy bartender named Michael Andris who happens to have a little bet of his own going with his friends.... In this hilarious debut novel, Victoria Michaels brings us a colorful and relatable cast of characters. She sends them on a sweet and sexy escapade as they sidestep one booby trap after another, manage the best of misguided intentions, and exert a whole lot of willpower and self control as they race down the path to true love. Winning isn't everything...or is it?

    That’s child’s play. Here’s how I do it: I avert my eyes when he walks out of his room, shirtless in all his toned glory. I squash the butterflies that fill my stomach every time he slowly unfurls a dimpled smile. And, most importantly, I keep an arsenal of “personal massagers” in my bedside drawer. Wink. Not to brag, but Aiden Smith isn’t hard to resist if you’ve been doing it for as long as I have. In fact, we might have continued as best friends forever if not for the fact that I needed him to play the part of my fake boyfriend.Date me like you mean it, I told him. Nudge nudge. C’mon, just go along with a little lie, help a girl out, and then we can all return to life as we know it.Except he veered from the plan.He crossed the line.Flirting with me when no one else was around? Pinning me down and kissing me like that? Okay, how exactly is taking off my bra part of the ruse, Aiden?!I’d ask him about it if I could, but well…things got ugly and we’re not best friends anymore.In fact, we’re the exact opposite. Now, I have to play nice even though I want to crush his heart in the palm of my hand. Pretending not to love Aiden was the easy part.Pretending not to hate him?Well…I might need a little more practice.

     I haven't seen him since. Charlotte Spencer grew up on the blue-blooded Upper East Side of Manhattan but she never wanted the sit-still-look-pretty future her parents dictated for her. Enter Colin Walsh, her brother's quiet, brooding, man-bun-sporting best friend, and with him a chance to escape. He's far from Charlotte's dream guy as but they need each other for one thing: marriage. One courthouse wedding later, Charlotte's inheritance is hers to start a business in San Francisco and Irish-born Colin has a Green Card. Ten years later, Colin drops a bombshell: the terms of their prenup state that before either can file for divorce, they have to live under the same roof for three months. Suddenly this match made in practicality is about to take on whole new meaning...

    These six novels follow their lives as they take a chance at love. Can love truly conquer all? From broken souls to broken hearts, they all will find out if they'll get their second chance at happily ever afters and that love really is worth fighting for.Axel (Corps Security, #1)Cage (Corps Security, #2)Beck (Corps Security, #3)Uncaged (Corps Security, #3.5)Cooper (Corps Security, #4)Locke (Corps Security, #5)

    Copywriter Callie Murphy has a bad attitude, a vicious tongue, and a serious aversion to Shimura Advertising’s resident manwhore, Walker Rhodes. Know where he can stick his good looks and Southern charm? She can think of a few creative places. Avoiding him wouldn’t be a problem, except her boss threatens to fire her if she doesn’t go along with him on their RV client’s cross-country tour. Burnt-out art director, Walker, is sick of his job, tired of women, and in a big old creative rut. The upcoming client road trip is just what he needs to shake things up and rediscover his lost passion. But his plans go south when his partner drops out at the last minute, and Callie, the foul-mouthed tiny terror, takes her place. Unless he can find a way to thaw his icy coworker, he’s looking at two months of pure hell. Road-Tripped is a stand-alone novel and the first book in the Ad Agency Series. *Not for readers under 18. Erotic sex, adult language, and drug use.

    That’s the hiccup in a warm and witty romance by the bestselling author of Roommaid.The meet-cute award goes to dog groomer Juliet Nolan. It’s one of Hollywood’s biggest nights when she volunteers as a seat filler and winds up next to movie heartthrob Noah freaking Douglas. Tongue tied and toes curling in her pink Converse, she pretends that she doesn’t have a clue who he is. It’s the only way to keep from swooning.She’s pretty and unpretentious, loves his dog, and is not a worshipping fan. No way Noah’s giving up on her, even if his affectionate pursuit comes with a bump: Juliet has a pathological fear of kissing and the disappointments that follow. What odds does romance have without that momentous, stupendous, once-in-a-lifetime first smooch? Patient, empathetic, and carrying personal burdens of his own, Noah suggests a remedy: they rehearse.The lessons begin. The guards come down. But there’s another hitch they weren’t betting on. As for that cue-the-orchestra-and-roll-credits happy ending? It might take more than practice to make it perfect.

     Spencer I love sex. I love the power, the intimacy, the euphoria it brings. Too bad I’m not having any . . . You’d think as New Orleans’ most renowned sex therapist that I’d be swimming in single men. In a way, I am . . . except for the fact that one is in diapers and the other two are drowning in preteen hormones. As a single mother of three, my days are devoted to my clients and my kids, and my nights are spent with Fabio, my trusty vibrator. When my world begins to unravel, I have no choice but to move back home. And when my high school sweetheart comes waltzing back into my life, comedy and chaos ensue. What can I say? I never said I could pick ’em, but you can bet your ass I know how to fix ’em. Cooper As soon as the ink dried on my divorce papers, I made myself a solemn vow: I was done with relationships. Moving home to take over my father’s firm was the plan, until Spencer decided to return, along with three souvenirs from the life she’s lived without me. I’ve been in love with the girl next door for nearly all of my life; the rest was spent trying to forget her. I’d give almost anything for a second chance with her, but I have no time for distractions—especially the kind that involve diapers, bottles, and eighteen-year commitments. The problem is, she’s already got me by the balls . . . and I’m beginning to feel the noose tightening around my heart. *Intended for readers 18+

    I ended my day with a bottle of tequila. I'll let you connect the dots.Somehow, I wound up working as a waitress at an Italian restaurant. I have no idea what I'm doing. And I'm not just talkin' about life.This should be interesting.Previously published as Tales of a New York Waitress

    From herself. From her wild child ways. From the screwed up life that she left behind in Los Angeles. And, most of all, from Ryan Hunter—the first man who has the potential to break through her defenses to see the dark fears and secrets she hides. Stark International Security Chief Ryan Hunter knows only one thing for sure—he wants Jamie. Wants to hold her, make love to her, possess her, and claim her. Wants to do whatever it takes to make her his. But after one night of bliss, Jamie bolts. And now it’s up to Ryan to not only bring her back, but to convince her that she’s running away from the best thing that ever happened to her--him.

    But, when she needs to do some research of this kissing kind, things may get a little more heated than she expected.Research has never been so fun.WARNING: This 11k short has no vampires, shape shifter or scorching sex, but it might make you snort your diet Coke out your nose.

    As in Barbie and Ken. Secrets from her mother: I lost my virginity in the spare bedroom with Danny Nussbaum while Mum and Dad were downstairs watching Ben-Hur. Secrets she wouldn't share with anyone in the world: I have no idea what NATO stands for. Or even what it is. Until she spills them all to a handsome stranger on a plane. At least, she thought he was a stranger.…Until Emma comes face-to-face with Jack Harper, the company's elusive CEO, a man who knows every single humiliating detail about her...

    Suit monkey, commitment-phobic serial dater. No more than three dates, unless he hasn't ... you know. Emmy:What a disaster! I only just made my flight to New York to help my uncle, and the phone I’m holding is not mine! It seems to belong to some commitment-phobic serial dater who’s never made it past four dates (according to the constant notifications he's getting from his fake dating profile...) And worse? I have a sinking feeling it’s that hot suit-monkey with the arctic grey eyes I just had a run-in with at the airport. Somehow I have to persuade him not to get a new phone until I get back. My whole life is on that phone. It’s only a few days. Surely we can handle it. Trystan :This is a joke, right? My life could not get more f*cked up. I’m in the middle of selling my company and on my way to a funeral and that hot mess hippie-chick stole my freaking phone. I’m not sure how she convinced me not to immediately walk into a smart phone store and get a new one, but now she’s going to have to play stand in and distract me while I deal with my long-avoided and estranged family. I don’t have my dating apps after all, and frankly she’s pretty funny. And sexy. And why can’t I stop texting her? And now we’re talking. And … look, I’ll admit that I usually run for the hills the morning after, but the morning after phone sex? That’s not really real, right?