Sure, she's got the lucrative job. She's got the posh apartment. But her sister nabbed Velma's Mr. Right. There has to be a man out there for Velma. Hopefully, one who's hunky, wears pressed suits, and has a diversified financial portfolio. He'll be exactly like, well... her sister's new fiancé.Badass biker Brek Montgomery blazes a trail across the country, managing Dimefront, one of the biggest rock bands of his generation. With the band on hiatus, Brek rolls into Denver to pay a quick visit to his family and friends. But when Brek's sister suddenly gets put on bed rest, she convinces Brek to take over her wedding planning business for the duration of her pregnancy.Staying in Denver and dealing with bridezillas was not what Brek had in mind when he passed through town, but there is one particular maid-of-honor who might make his stay worthwhile.Velma finds herself strangely attracted to the man planning her sister's wedding.Problem is, he ticks none of the boxes on her well-crafted list. Brek is rough around the edges, he cusses, and doesn't even have a 401(k). But trying something crazy might get her out of the rut of her dating life--so long as she lays down boundaries up front and sticks to her plan...Going Down on One Knee is book one of the Mile High Matched series. If you love a hunky, tattooed wedding planner this book is for you.

    Things go from bad to worse when she discovers that, not only is her ex-husband engaged to her cousin - Tash, the woman he left her for - but that Jake is also running for Lord Mayor of Sydney.Desperate to leave the destructive relationship behind and with nothing to lose, she decides- with encouragement from her three best friends - to follow the dubious advice from a magazine article, Closure in Seven Easy Steps.The Seven Steps to Closure follows Tara on her sometimes disastrous- always hilarious - path to achieve the seemingly impossible.

    Knight.They call me Big Pickle.It’s not what you think.(Although that’s true too.)I happen to be the oldest Pickle in the family deli business. And we have the best salami.Take that one however you like.But when my father announces the franchise will go to the most profitable of the three brothers, I learn that even though I’m the biggest Pickle, I’m dead last.I hightail it to Texas to see what’s happened to my restaurant, only to find a sassy little spitfire named Nova Strong in charge.She’s amazing. She’s sexy. She’s perfectly happy to call bullsh*t when she sees it.But despite the way we nearly melt the permafrost in the industrial freezer, I have to control myself. Nova thinks I'm a new employee. She has no idea I’m only there to spy.Or that I'm her boss.As I get to the bottom of why my franchise is failing, I desperately need to know one thing:Is Nova Strong everything wrong with my deli, or everything right for me?___Big Pickle is a full-length, 300-page standalone romantic comedy full of pickle jokes, giggle-worthy references to male anatomy, and more salty language than a jar of baby dills.

    Don't call your hot boss the antichrist to his face. 2. Don't stare at hot boss's, um, package or his full sleeve of tattoos. (No. Really. Stop!) 3. Don't get on the malicious first assistant's bad side.4. Don't forget to memorize the 300-page employee manual.5. If you value your cashmere, steer clear of boss’s dog.6. Boss’s dimples are lust-inducing. Do. Not. Give. In. 7. “The elevator ate your clothes” is not a valid excuse for showing up to important meetings half dressed. 8. Don't break seven of the rules within the first week of employment if you, ya know, are in dire need of money to support your sick mom.9. Whatever you do, don’t fall for the boss. See rule eight about sick mom.10. Never forget the rules.

    Being a cupid is hard work. Love Matches, Lust Breath, Flirt Touches, not to mention having to meet my quotas every month. And hitting your target with arrows? That shit is not easy. But all of that I could handle. Gladly. If only my cupid powers would actually work. But nope. Turns out, I’m a dud. Unless I want to get sucked out of existence, I need to spread some love around fast. The clock is ticking, but I have the perfect candidate to start with. Warren Knight. Smart, hot as hell, rich, bachelor-dud extraordinaire. No matter how many dates he goes on, he just won’t seal the deal. It’s time I fix him. And fix me too. Of course, the asshole doesn’t want to fall in love, so I have my work cut out for me. They say there’s no rest for the wicked. Well, they should try being a cupid, because this shit is exhausting. Here goes nothing. Author's Note: This is a contemporary paranormal romantic comedy intended for ages 18+.

    From Pucked: An Area 51 breach on the kitchen table that was cut from the final draft, plus a holiday outtake showcasing Violet’s exemplary Super MC costume design skills. From Pucked Up: Discover just how bad poor Miller “Buck” Butterson’s luck really is in these deleted chapters, and fall even more in love with the snuggly, reformed manwhore. From Pucked Over: Revisit the sexiest, horniest and most prolifically active couple with outtakes and alternative POV’s from Randy Ballistic. From Forever Pucked: Check out a never before seen outtake, in which Violet defends her Area 51 position, and get a sneak peek at the first chapter of the Pucked sequel.

    Example: You're chatting with a guy you're interested in and your friend comes along and lays claim to him.MaggieThat's my life except it's worse. My friend who keeps jamming me is my gay roommate, and if that isn't a W.T.F. moment, I'm not sure what is. Fact: He went home with three yes, three of the guys I had been so sure were into me. Fact: He's really pissing me off. I mean, hello? I'm trying to get back in the saddle, but I'll never manage to get a boyfriend before the age of fifty if he keeps this up. Fact: Secretly, I wonder what it would be like if he weren't gay.RyThe day I interviewed for the room to rent, everything changed. I knew I had met the girl, except there was one small problem: she didn't want anything to do with men. I recognized a top-notch force field when I saw one. She'd been burned badly and didn't want to deal with a heterosexual guy as a roommate. I could've turned around and found another place to live, but I wanted to live there with her. So I had to go undercover. Fact: I'm in love with my roommate. Fact: She's going to hate me if I come clean now. Fact: I'm not giving up. Which means I'll just have to continue to run defense until I figure out a way to get Maggie to see the real me. The me that loves her. The me that would never do her wrong. Until then, I'll keep running off every guy who shows any interest. Until then, I'll continue to Clam Jam.

    When she discovers the drunken vows she exchanged with the groom during a wild Las Vegas trip eight years previously mean they're legally married, her future plans ricochet out of control.Gavin Maguire's life is low on drama, high on stability, and free of pets. But Gavin hadn't reckoned on Fiona blasting back into his life and crashing his wedding. In the space of twenty-four hours, he loses a fiancée and a job, and gains a wife and a puppy. Can he salvage his bland-but-stable life? More importantly, can he resist losing his heart to Fiona all over again?

    But it’s redemption time, and she’s putting on her big girl panties to make sure this year’s bridal festival goes off without a hitch. Even if it means she has to play nice with the man who broke her fairy tale.She’s definitely not the one for him. Or is she...World adventurer and reluctant local hero CJ Blue doesn’t want to be in Bliss anymore than Natalie wants him here. But family obligations have brought him back, and now he’s somehow been roped into saving the town tradition he’d rather forget with the woman whose kiss he can’t forget. She frustrates him and drives him nuts but he's had more fun giving her a hard time about the bridal festival than he has in years.And their fun is just starting...Despite their rocky past, these two wounded souls have more in common than they expect. They’ve both loved and lost, they’ve both tried to move on, and now they’ve both been been banned from the local church confessional after...well, they’re not supposed to talk about it. But by joining forces for the sake of Bliss, they might find the courage and the sparks to risk love one more time.Note: BLISSED was previously published for like 5 minutes many years ago as THE HUSBAND GAMES. Publishers Weekly called it a "Marvelous romantic comedy" in a starred review and named it as a "Self-Published Star" of 2014.

    Not even close.Now they have to live together for the next thirty days while renovating the family home. Or the estate will transfer to the one person Ben hates more than Emelia, and she'll have to move back to the one place she wants to forget more than Ben.Did I mention Ben look likes man-candy and smells like testosterone? Not that Emelia notices. She spends a lot of time not noticing things about Ben.

    That's when the realization hit: I'm young, I'm rich (thanks to a hefty inheritance), and I'm boring. Not "needs a little zip" boring, either. More like "mustard stain on a Sears tweed couch" drab. French's in a squeeze bottle, that's me. But suddenly I have Grey Poupon aspirations! Things are gonna change-starting now... Building a better mantrap... First things first: Exercise. Carrot juice. Straight hair. Whiter teeth. Clothes that fit (I have breasts? Who knew?) But wait-there's more. Life's kicked me around a bit, and I've been nursing my wounds for too long. I'm finally ready to take a chance on love with the perfect guy. He's handsome. He's smart. He's reliable. He's my CPA. Problem is, I'm clueless about winning him over. It's time to call in an expert. It's time to call in The Dog. Down, boy. Mike "The Dog" Dougherty is a man's man. A guy's guy. Okay, he's a chauvinist pig, and his sty is "The Dog House," a testosterone-charged column in Maximum for Him magazine. On one hand, I abhor all he stands for. On the other hand, who better to coach me? So here I am. Learning the complex unspoken language of the American male (Talk, bad. Sex, good.); trying exciting new things (Stripping lessons are empowering. Really.); falling for Mike. Uh oh. But the Mike I'm getting to know is different from The Dog. And the Mona I'm becoming isn't quite who I expected, either. This whole makeover scheme is getting crazier by the minute. But "crazy" beats "boring"...right? Jennifer Coburn is an award-winning journalist who has written for magazines and newspapers in the United States, Canada and Australia. She lives in San Diego with her husband, William and their daughter, Katie. Jennifer desperately wishes she had Mona's unlimited cash, beachfront estate and singing voice. When she's not living vicariously through chick-lit characters, Jennifer runs a public relations business which serves non-profit organizations and small businesses in southern California. She is also the coordinator of the Del Cerro Soccer Moms League and coach of the real-life Kickin' Chicks, the best seven-year-old girls to ever tear up suburban soccer fields.

    But when she’s caught red-handed by a man who kills for a living, her enmity rapidly turns to fear. Daniil Kozar isn't a man to trifle with, and Elizabeth is forced to strike a deal with the mafia king. Her every action is watched, and she needs to decide how to handle the gun-toting criminal--and his seductive charm.Daniil may be the devil her father warned about. Or he may be the sensual awakening Elizabeth never knew she needed. Somewhere, Elizabeth's dad is screaming a prayer...*Originally published in The Obsidian Collection**This work contains sexual material intended for readers 18+*

    Just another twenty-something girl, living the dream. That’s what I tell myself every morning. That I’m successful, self-aware, and well-balanced. It's just a tiny fib. I would be all of those things, if I had friends who didn’t work with me at the bank. And if I made it to pilates more than once a quarter. And if watermelon slushies weren't the main source of nutrients in my diet. It wouldn’t hurt if I’d had sex in the last year, either. (My best friend insists Jorge the Nightstand Boyfriend doesn’t count.)But when you know where you're going, you don’t need to enjoy the ride. Right?Even if some teeny part of me did want to fool around, Max Donovan would be the last guy I’d call. Sure, he made the indie video game that broke the internet. And yeah, his eyebrow piercing’s sexy, in a ‘what-are-you-in-a-band?’ kind of way. And fighting with him gets me going faster than Jorge on bezerker mode…He’s still colder than a cactus and twice as prickly. And I’m not talking about his face, because the guy’s barely old enough to shave. It’d really be best if we just ignored each other. Which is a problem, because Max Donovan is my new biggest client.So what happens when the girl who lives to work meets the guy who was born to play?Game on.

    Finally, at 26, she may have actually lost the dreaded ‘McMaster the Disaster’ nickname that has followed her around her whole life. Josie’s quite content to be single, much to her mother’s disappointment. So when a bizarre contest is announced where a socialite is holding a lottery to pick her bridesmaids (and rake in a little extra cash), she can’t roll her eyes fast enough, even if it does mean meeting Jake Hall, her one and only movie star crush. Obviously, Josie doesn’t enter the bridesmaid lottery, so you can imagine her surprise when her picture pops up among the winners, thanks to Mom. With a little prodding -- okay bribing -- Josie agrees to participate.The wedding turns into the event of the year, and Josie finds herself in the middle of a paparazzi feeding frenzy, which gets even crazier after Jake Hall takes a special interest in her. Can Josie handle the pressure in the spotlight? Is it possible she might really have a chance with Jake Hall? And if she’s busy worrying about all that, how in the heck is she going to keep ‘McMaster the Disaster’ from showing up in front of the entire world?

    She's a (struggling) sports journalist looking for her big break. Charlie Denton has been handed the most impossible assignment from her stick-in-the-mud boss: get an exclusive interview with the NHL's golden boy, Duke Harrison. The catch? She's got eight days or she’ll be demoted. Fired. Kicked to the curb - No way is she letting her future rest on the broad shoulders of a goalie who is at least three seasons past his prime. She has eight days to convince Duke that the loyal fans of The Cambridge Tribune (annual circulation: 1,000) are dying to know about his life, on and off the ice. Eight days to stand toe to toe with a man who is pure sex on a stick. Eight days to remember that every mind-blowing kiss is nothing but a power play. What could go wrong?