The kind I would normally never send. Only, instead of it going to the flirty hotel bartender, it goes to some random stranger who actually responds.I tell myself an unexpected night of hot as hell back-and-forth is the perfect way to blow off a little steam while I’m in New York closing an important business deal. Little do I know the man on the other end of the line is none other than Wells Grange: the most controlling, egotistical, emotionless SOB I’ve ever met.I spend my days squaring off against Wells in the boardroom, and my nights succumbing to the sexy stranger’s commanding texts in the bedroom. Within days, I’m falling for someone I shouldn’t, and I have to remind myself that none of this is real.Wells:The first thing I notice about Conor Newell when he sits down in my high-rise conference room is how delightfully nervous he is. Then I see his tie. The same geeky tie that’s held hostage on my phone. The one that belongs to my anonymous late-night texter. And it changes everything.I should confess. Tell the truth about who I am. Instead, I decide there’s no harm in flirting. After all, once our business is concluded, he’ll be out of my life for good.The more I get to know Conor, however, the more I start to fall for him. Which is a problem, because I made a vow long ago to never let emotions interfere with my life, either business or personal. Except I can’t stop thinking about him night and day. If it’s only in my head, though, it doesn’t count.After all, it’s not like we’re falling for each other in real life...

    Instead, I’m trapped in personal assistant hell. His hobbies include barking orders, torpedoing my advertising campaigns, and reducing the office staff to tears.On a good day, he acts like I’m invisible. On a bad day, I remind myself arsenic is not an acceptable sweetener for coffee. And prison orange would be murder on my complexion.Imagine my surprise when Chase follows me home to Bitter End, North Carolina, where I’m about to endure my ex-fiancé’s wedding.The moment he chases off my date and offers to pose as my boyfriend, I know he's got a hidden agenda—especially when he plays the part a little too convincingly. Unfortunately, I have to play along to find out what he’s really up to.To satisfy the town gossip squad, I’ll have to let him kiss me. Who knew Satan’s lips were so soft and inviting? And if we’re really playing the part, we’ll have to go to Lover’s Lane – testing my willpower beyond its limits.The more time we spend together outside the office, though, the more I see a different side of him. He’s still bossy and demanding, but is it wrong that I find it kind of, well … hot?This wedding is bound to be hell, so I might as well spend it in the arms of a sexy devil.

    Yeah, that Barrett Callahan—the one the press dubbed “Bare” after those naked sexting pictures surfaced. At twenty-five, I was armed with an MBA from Harvard, an executive position at my father’s Fortune 500 company, a penthouse, and a different piece of delectable eye candy in my bed every weekend. I had a life most men dreamed of. But then my father decided to run for president, and my playboy lifestyle became a liability to his campaign that was built on family values. My “makeover” comes in the form of a fake fiancée who I don't even get to choose--one who is an uptight, choirgirl acting priss but also sexy-as-hell. AddisonMy latest relationship had gone down in flames, and I was drowning in a sea of student loans when in true Godfather status, James Callahan made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Seven figures for seven months on the campaign trail pretending to be the adoring fiancée of his son, Barrett. As soon as he won the election, our engagement would be dissolved amicably for the press, I was free to ride off into the sunset a million dollars richer, and because of the NDA, no one would be the wiser. Sure, I’d never met the guy, but I’d been a theater nerd in high school. I could pull off any role from Lady Macbeth to Maria Von Trapp. But that was before I met my fake fiancé—the infuriating, self-absorbed, egotistical, drop-dead-sexy King of the Manwhores. The race will be a fight to the death finish, and that’s not even the actual campaign.

    Easy. Wear designer clothing and sip champagne? Don’t mind if I do. Flirting with Grant? It’s so delicious I should be paying him. Nothing can go wrong as long as I can keep my hands off of him. But that’s the hard part. And I do mean hard. Because Grant is sexy. And bossy. And surprisingly sweet, a real rarity in his pretentious family. Oops. I’m not as good at faking it as I thought. Or maybe they call this method acting. Because it’s getting harder to figure out where my character ends and I begin… It just might be the role of a lifetime. Weekend Wife is a standalone romantic comedy with a sexy billionaire, a sassy heroine, and a Happily Ever After.

    But their attraction is undeniable. Introverted Daisy McGregor is used to being a wallflower, but what she lacks in style, she makes up for with an acerbic wit, a passion for life, and a deep devotion to her family. So she’ll suffer through her sister Dahlia’s bachelorette party and accept the cloud of pity for going stag to the wedding.Out at the pub, sexy bad boy Mason Carlisle is a reluctant wingman tasked with entertaining Daisy while his brother flirts with her oldest sister, Daffodil. When the plan fails and Mason’s true intent is revealed, he feels intense guilt—and a sensual spark of desire for the unlikeliest of women.Daisy decides to use this unfortunate encounter to her advantage: to make it up to her, Mason will be another kind of wingman, playing the role of her boyfriend and wedding date. Will their ruse unravel completely—or will Mason and Daisy’s undeniable attraction ignite a scorching love affair that knows no rules?

    Problem is, she doesn’t believe in marriage. Not after watching her mother be treated like garbage by her father. Nope, marriage is not for her. All she wants is a baby. All she needs is a man to agree to her terms.Dane Wylder, recently retired NFL tight end and future Hall of Famer, wants a baby.Naturally, marriage is off the table. He’s not the marrying type. Women are great––as long as they’re trying to get into his bed and not his heart. But after years of living only for himself, he’s ready to be a father. Sparks fly when a successful financial manager and a legendary football player enter into a legal agreement to have a kid together. They planned on everything––they just didn’t plan on each other.

    The blue-eyed man sitting next to me, even better. He was suave and intelligent. We talked and laughed, and something clicked. Fate took over and the plane was grounded, and we had an unexpected stopover for the night.With no plans, we made our own. We danced and laughed our way around Boston and had a night of crazy passion that no woman would ever forget. That was twelve months ago, and I haven’t heard from him—until today. I started a new job and met the CEO. You can imagine my surprise to see those naughty blue eyes dance with delight when he saw me across the mahogany desk. But I’m not that carefree girl anymore. My life has changed, I have responsibilities. I just got an email. He wants to see me in his office for a private meeting at 8:00 a.m. Naughty blue eyes have no place in the workplace. What kind of private meeting does he have in mind?

    It just happened.Nathaniel Weaver is the most attractive man I’ve ever seen with enough charisma to blind the sun.He’s bigger than the world, owns half of it and conquered the other half.He was forbidden. Wrong.So I totally got over him. Or so I told myself.Until we’re forced to get married.Now I’m trapped.But maybe he’s trapped too.Because we’re both reaching for that forbidden fruit dangling between us.Empire of Desire is a complete STANDALONE. No book should be read prior to this.Note: This is NOT a dark romance.

    He’s arrogant. He’s smart as a whip and sexy AF. He has too much money. He’s bossy, and he’s usually right. All I saw were his clear blue eyes, tight butt, and ripped torso. I gladly handed him my V-card that night, ten years ago. I was so stupid. I swore I’d never be that stupid again… Emmy Barton works for a dry cleaner? Yes, that Emmy Barton—long, blonde hair, bright blue eyes, pretty smile… Sexy little body. Smart mouth. She was the only girl who interested me, but I was leaving to be an officer in the Navy. Now I’m home, running my business. My life is perfectly ordered until I bump into her, divorced and struggling to make ends meet. I hate seeing her like this. I hate that she married Burt “The Dick” Dickerson. What an a--hole. She says she hates me, but when we fight, it’s all heat and lust. I won’t leave her this way. She will let me help her and her son. She will stay… It’s a thin line between love and hate, and this line is on fire. (STAY is a STAND-ALONE enemies-to-lovers, second-chance, marriage of convenience romance. No cheating. No cliffhangers.)

    There’s only one problem—she hates my guts.And in the fine print of the contract? The requirement that we produce an heir.She can’t stand to be in the same room with me. Says she’ll never be in my bed. But I’ve never backed down from a challenge and I’m not about to start now.Mark my words—I’ll have her begging for me, and it won’t take ninety days.On the heels of her smash hit and New York Times bestselling SCREWED series, Kendall Ryan brings you HITCHED, a romantic comedy that delivers heart and heat. A NYC playboy turned business mogul has ninety days to win over the woman he's always desired in order to save his father's company. One tiny problem: She hates his guts.

    So right. The moment I heard his velvety voice growl that I’m his ‘Kitty Kat’, I knew I was in trouble. Derrick ‘The Love Whisperer’ King gives out relationship and sex advice on the radio to everyone, but he’s giving me something a bit more personal. Nobody’s ever talked to me the way he does. Daring, Demanding, Sexy… and oh, so Dirty. Maybe we started this whole thing a little backward, sex first and getting to know each other after. But I'm starting to let my guard down, my untrusting heart beginning to think that maybe fairy tales do come true. Even for me. I feel beautiful and hopeful when he worships my body. I feel dirty and naughty when he whispers filthy things in my ear. But is it real? Can something so naughty really be good for me? And more importantly, against all odds, can it last… forever? Dirty Talk is a full-length Romance with a happy ever after, no cheating, and no cliffhanger!

     At thirty-five, Marcus Carelli has it all: wealth, power, and the kind of looks that leave women breathless. A self-made billionaire, he heads one of the largest hedge funds on Wall Street and can take down major corporations with a single word. The only thing he’s missing? A wife who’d be as big of an achievement as the billions in his bank account. A cat lady who needs a date… Twenty-six-year-old bookstore clerk Emma Walsh has it on good authority that she’s a cat lady. She doesn’t necessarily agree with that assessment, but it’s hard to argue with the facts. Raggedy clothes covered with cat hair? Check. Last professional haircut? Over a year ago. Oh, and three cats in a tiny Brooklyn studio? Yep, she’s got those. And yes, fine, she hasn’t had a date since… well, she can’t recall. But that part is fixable. Isn’t that what the dating sites are for? A case of mistaken identity… One high-end matchmaker, one dating app, one mix-up that changes everything... Opposites may attract, but can this last?

    I don’t even like him.I just want him.Eli Loveless was my nemesis from the first day of kindergarten until we graduated high school. Everything I did, he had to do better - and vice versa. The day he left town was the best day of my life.Ten years later, the day he came back was the worst.Now he’s my co-worker.Grown-up Eli Loveless is sexy as sin. He’s hotter than asphalt in the summer. The irritating kid I once knew is gone, and he’s been replaced by a man with green eyes, perfect abs, and a cocky smile.It’s bad that I want him.It’s worse that he wants me back.There are looks. There are smirks. There are smiles that make my panties burst into flame.And then there’s a shared kiss that leads to the hottest night of my life.This is no office romance. This is a five-alarm fire. What’s a girl to do when the man I can’t stand is the one I can’t stop lusting after?Enter into a friends-with-benefits agreement, of course. No dates. No relationship. Just blisteringly hot sex, because if there’s one person I could never fall for, it’s Eli....right?

    Free spirits with personal boundary issues, excessive quirks, or general squeamishness need not apply. Salary negotiable. Confidentiality required.Workaholic billionaire Sawyer Carlyle may have joked he needed a “buffer” from their marriage-obsessed mom, but he didn’t need a waiting room filled with “candidates” to further distract him. (Thanks, bro.) But when a sexy job applicant shooes his mom and the socialite in tow out of his office, Sawyer sees the genius of the plan. And the woman. In fact, Miss Clover Lee might just get the fastest promotion in history, from buffer to fake fiancé…This “free-spirit” might look like hot sunshine and lickable rainbows, but she negotiates like a pitbull. Before Sawyer knows what hit him, he’s agreed to give up Friday nights for reality tv, his Saturdays for flea markets (why buy junk still baffles him), his Tuesdays and Thursdays for “date nights” (aka panty-losing opportunities if he plays his cards right). And now she wants lavender bath salts and tulips delivered every Monday? Yup, she’s just screwing with him. Good thing she’s got this non-negotiatable six-weeks-and-she’s-gone rule or Sawyer may have just met his match…

    And the answer is usually some bubbly, lovey dovey tale of being struck in the bum by Cupid’s arrow.My meet cute (well not so meet cute) is slightly different. I was trolling a wealthy neighborhood in Beverly Hills, searching for someone to take me as their bride, you know, to make my arch nemesis jealous who consequently just fired me.He was stomping around the block like some sort of gorgeous ogre, mumbling about a business deal gone wrong and attempting to finagle his way out of it.And that’s when we bumped into each other.There were no sparks.Not even a hint of blossoming love.But next thing I knew, I was scarfing down free chips and guac, listening to this man lay out all of his problems which led to his big ask . . . he wanted me to be his Vivian Ward, you know, from Pretty Woman--minus the frisky behavior.We’re talking about living in a mansion, intimate double dates, and pretending we were head over heels in love . . . and engaged. Can you imagine?The absolute audacity.But people do crazy things when they’re desperate. And I reeked of desperation. So, I struck up a deal.My one big mistake, though . . . big . . . HUGE? I accidentally fell for the incomparable Huxley Cane.