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+

    Or so they think.Revenge is a dish best served cold, after all...

    A wedding we shouldn't have been invited to. Two unexpected romances. A scoop of sexy. And a double scoop of chaos. Lydia is a good girl who is above revenge. Good thing she has us. No one cheats on our best friend and rides off into the sunset with his new bride. What was supposed to happen? Unleash hell like two badasses. It was a simple plan, but we failed to anticipate a few things. A rogue prosthetic, an accidental exorcism, and dominatrix strippers willing to take things way too far, just to name a few. What actually happened? As usual, nothing went as planned, especially when two sexy distractions popped into the mix. We were there to avenge our friend, not to get entangled with two cocky, arrogant men, who don’t like to hear the word no. I was sure we could resist. I mean, it was only a week, right? What could happen in a week? Not intrigued enough? There's totally a duck in this story. Ah yeah. Now we have your undivided attention. Enjoy our chaos. #WorthIt

     Outgoing? Check.Single? Check.Open to finding love? Check. I signed up immediately. A hopeless romantic with an exceedingly demanding schedule, I've found it impossible to find the man of my dreams—so Going in Blind seems too good to be true! That’s until they start setting me up on dates—three very different, very attractive, very distinct blind dates—and only one thing is for certain . . . I’m in big trouble. Good Morning Malibu,I'm Noely Clark, and I have a choice to make.The question is who will I choose; the suit, the rebel, or the jock.

    And he looks good enough to eat, which is just one more reason to stay away from him. But I can’t resist.The sex is incredible (pretty sure we’ve shaken the house right off its foundation), but he can’t fool me—not this time. A degree in marketing and five years in advertising have taught me that “true love” is a fairy tale used to sell lipstick, diamonds, and perfume. It doesn’t exist.He thinks I’m wrong, and he wants to prove it.I think he’s crazy, so I dare him to try.It might be the biggest mistake of my life.

    The Romantic Style Book convention was meant to be a weekend of raucous fun with friends, sun, and enough poolside margaritas to forget about my ex. But now, instead of meeting my fans and signing books, I'm stuck with cocky divorce lawyer Nate Wexler. He's arrogant, infuriating, and I can't keep my hands off of him. Judging by the state of our hotel room, last night was wild. I just wish I could remember it.A pair of matching tattoos. A half empty box of glow-in-the-dark Trojans. And a... wedding veil?What the hell just happened?Discover the hot and hilarious world of the LUCKY IN LOVE series from Lila Monroe!1. Get Lucky2. Bet Me3. Lovestruck4. Mr Right-Now5. Perfect Match6. Christmas with the Billionaire"I laughed my ass off. Let me know if you find it. I wish I'd written this book."-- Kayti McGee"I've NEVER had SO MUCH FUN while reading a book! This was insanely good"-- Shayna's Spicy Reads"Get Lucky is an enchanting, steamy, delightful read I never wanted to end" -- Angie's Dreamy Reads"One of the funniest, light hearted, free spirited novels I have ever read... An absolute joy to read." - Bloggers From Down Under"This.Book.Is.SOOOO.Funny! What is the best way to describe it? It's like a cross between The Hangover and...a steamy romance novel...hahaha. SO SO steamy. I'm surprised my kindle didn't start smoking. But more importantly, it was funny and endearing." -- Micah Liesel's Book Blog

     What happens when the one guy you want to avoid the most, is unavoidable? Lola Sexton is the writer behind Sex Says, a successful relationship column at the San Francisco Times. She’s a pro at advising others on their love lives, but if there’s one thing she isn’t in the market for, it’s love. Reed Luca is a wanderer and a jack of all trades. He doesn’t believe happiness comes from a nine to five job, or that success is delivered through a paycheck. But opportunity often finds its way to those who aren’t looking. When Reed signs up to write an anti-Sex Says relationship column, the result is all out war. Sex Says: If you let guys walk all over you, you could end up smelling like feet. Reed This: Don’t try to change who you are. There’s someone out there for everyone. Take someone with a foot fetish falling in love with someone who smells like feet as an example. Sex Says: Appreciate what you’re given. Reed This: Don’t like what you’re given? Fight for what you want. Sex Says: Don't ever date a guy named Reed Luca. Reed This: Find a woman like Lola Sexton and find her quick. She's a unicorn. Lola hates Reed. Really, she does. It’s just too bad the guy is so likable.

    When my car broke down, we made a deal. Next thing I knew, we were traveling together, spending sexually-tense nights in hotels and taking unplanned detours. My ordinary road trip turned into the adventure of a lifetime. It was all fun and games until things got intense.I wanted him, but Chance wouldn’t make a move. I thought he wanted me too, but something was holding him back. I wasn’t supposed to fall for the cocky bastard, especially when I knew we’d be going our separate ways. All good things must come to an end, right? Except our ending was one I didn’t see coming.Author's note - Cocky Bastard is a full-length standalone novel. Due to strong language and sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.

     It’s been a decade since I’ve seen him, but our years on opposite coasts were less of a lasting peace and more of a temporary cease-fire. Now that we’re both back in our small town, I know Lucas expects the same old war, but I’ve changed since high school—and from the looks of it, so has he. The arrogant boy who was my teenage rival is now a chiseled doctor armed with intimidating good looks. He is Lucas Thatcher 2.0, the new and improved version I’ll be competing with in the workplace instead of the schoolyard. I’m not worried; I’m a doctor now too, board-certified and sexy in a white coat. It almost feels like winning will be too easy—until Lucas unveils a tactic neither of us has ever used before: sexual warfare. The day he pushes me up against the wall and presses his lips to mine, I can’t help but wonder if he’s filling me with passion or poison. Every fleeting touch is perfect torture. With every stolen kiss, my walls crumble a little more. After all this time, Lucas knows exactly how to strip me of my defenses, but I’m in no hurry to surrender. Knowing thy enemy has never felt so good.

     Poppy Porter's ex is getting married ... to her ex best friend. To land her dream job of partner in the most prestigious firm on the Upper East Side, Poppy must now pull double shifts as their wedding planner and maid of honor. And the icing on a truly craptastic cake? Leo Nass. Handsome, infuriating, womanizer, and … the best man. Despite their longstanding loathing, Poppy doesn't see Leo coming. Literally. One ruined cake. One archnemesis. One hour to save the wedding. Can they put their hatred aside long enough to save Poppy’s job and Bridezilla's head from exploding? Piece of cake, right?

    With her pride wounded and her tail tucked between her legs, she leaves New York and goes back to her tiny hometown of White Timber, Montana. No more twenty-four-hour taco trucks, no more shopping at the best designer stores within walking distance, no more giving taxi drivers the finger when they angrily honk at her. She didn’t think it could get any worse. But then Clint Hastings walked into the room and insulted her. Her arch nemesis from high school is no longer a nerdy computer whiz, masturbating to pictures in PC World magazine in his free time (allegedly). He’s grown up to be a hot-as-hell cowboy, and she has no other choice but to be a smart ass right back to him. After all, it’s what they do. It’s what they’ve always done, and twelve years apart hasn’t changed anything. Only this time, getting under each other’s skin is a hell of a lot more fun than it used to be.

    He’s absolutely devastated. He swears. Just ignore his cheeky grin, okay?When word reaches his fancy corner office that Gallum is replacing himself with his daughter, Amity, Carver is ecstatic. For real this time. Jones squashes men in the business industry flat. A woman? Pfst. He’ll be completely in charge in no time, doing whatever he wants. He’s so ready for this. But is he ready to fight the hardest fight of his life? No, not the one to maintain control of his company. The one to keep control of his heart.The battle may begin in the boardroom, but the war will definitely be won in the bedroom. May the best sex win.

    And since the last three weeks of my life have been riddled with humbug—another breakup, a broken toe, an office promotion I deserved and didn’t get—I’m not at all in the mood to celebrate nor have the happ, happ, happiest Christmas EVER.When Mom insisted that we all gather at my Grandparent’s ancient cabin for an old school family Christmas, I fully intended to get into the holiday spirit with the help of the three wise men, Johnnie Walker, Jack Daniels, and Jim Beam. But those boys did absolutely nothing to offset the shock or temper the sting of seeing my EX on our doorstep the first day of our holiday soiree.Apparently, Santa missed the memo, and this elf is pissed.Stuck for a week with the man who obliterated my heart nearly two decades ago, I did the only thing I could do and put on my game face, thankful for the home advantage.I knew better than to drink that last cup of eggnog.I knew better than to get tongue tangled beneath the mistletoe with the only man to ever break my heart.I knew better than to sleep with Satan’s wingman on the eve of the Lord’s birthday.I could blame the nog. I could blame the deceitful light blue eyes, thick, angelic hair, and panty evaporating smirk…but mostly, I blame Eli because he always knew exactly which of my buttons to push.I foolishly thought a family Christmas filled with nostalgia was going to turn my inner Scrooge around, but this year’s festivities went up in flames. Leave it to the ghost of my Christmas past to be the one to light the match.Fa la la la la, la FML.

    Scones? Child’s play. Cupcakes? I’ll frost them so good you won’t know what hit you. Donuts? Please.You’re talking to a master baker.But there’s one egg I’ve never been able to crack.My best friend.Correction: My former best friend.She’s the apple in my pie. The whip in my cream. The lemon in my meringue. The wish in my bone.She’s the one who got away.After ten years in the military, she’s back. She’s bruised and battered by life, but she’s back.Except she’s not my second chance. She’s gone to the dark side.Running a rival bakery in a town not big enough for two.So now I have to decide—which do I want more?My bakery?Or the woman I never should’ve let go of in the first place?Master Baker is a deliciously fun friends-to-enemies-to-lovers romantic comedy featuring a smooth-talking baker, the one who got away, and a goat with more matchmaking tendencies than a nosy old grandpa. It stands alone with no cheating or cliffhangers.

    Her references are good. And she’s easy on the eyes.Until …Flint discovers Ellen Rodgers, Board-Certified Music Therapist, plays music. Bongos, guitars, singing—not Beethoven administered through noise-cancelling headphones.The cut-throat attorney serves up an eviction notice to the bubbly, constantly humming redhead who's too sexy for her own good. But luck is on Ellen’s side when Flint’s autistic son, Harrison, takes an instant liking to her. A single dad can’t compete with guitars—and rats. Yes, she has pet rats.This woman …She’s annoyingly happy with a constant need to touch him—adjust his tie, button his shirt, invade his space, and mess with his mind.Still …She must go.Their lust-hate relationship escalates into something beautiful and tragic. This sexy, romantic-comedy explores the things we want, the things we need, and the impossible decisions parents and children make to survive.