He's like a freaking celebrity around here. It's totally ridiculous. People, by which I mean grown women, actually stalk him on the internet. And around campus. Apparently he's god's gift to both football and the ladies (I'm using that term loosely). All he has to do is smile and girls just fall right onto their backs before spreading their legs nice and wide. I've heard that he's already plowed his way through half the female population here at Barnett. I'm sure he'll work his way through the second half before he gets drafted to the NFL later this year.Yeah... I don't plan to be one of them. The guy is nothing more than a conceited player. You know the type—a steroid infused meathead jock coasting through college on his football prowess.Ugh.I have three words for you—avoid, avoid, avoid.Need I say more?I don't think so.I've had the sad misfortune of running into him on campus. Literally. As in—I literally slammed into him before spilling my iced coffee drink all over that wide rippling chest of his (did I just say that?). What I learned from the experience is that Roan King is one hell of a cocky son of a—I also learned that he has the most spectacular chest...And don't even get me started on those abs... I could probably cut diamonds on them.Unfortunately for me, Operation Avoid-Roan-King isn't going so well. Everywhere I go, there he is. If he wasn't so ridiculously hot, he would be a hell of a lot easier to forget. With his dark hair, shocking turquoise colored eyes and (damn him) buff body, he's easily the most gorgeous guy I've ever laid eyes on.Crap... see what I mean?Why do I suddenly have the bad feeling that Roan King is going to lead to my utter ruin and downfall?This is a mature New Adult novel with strong language and sexual situations intended for readers over the age of 18.

    Sometimes it’s where you find Mr. Random shacked up and sprawled out on what was supposed to be your new bed.Between the bear spray and the handcuffs, she discovers a terrible mistake has been made.Lochlan hasn't broken into her new home to sleep with a seedy barmaid...he owns half.With emotions running on high, Erin is determined to tough it out until a solution can be found.The tight quarters seem smaller with his accumulated clutter and bizarre sleeping schedule. It also doesn't help that he's the new lead singer for Thin Ice, an indie band on its rise to fame.What happens when a quiet bookworm gets stuck with a relentless rocker?What happens when the things you see are not the things you get?

    Serving up Nibble My Nuts sundaes and Drunken Sailor boozy shakes are as close to an orgasmic affair as she's had in months thanks to her expanding empire—until the night of her ten-year high school reunion. When Ryleigh's crush, gorgeous ex-football god Cameron Mathis, comes streaking into her life (literally—streaking), she begins to wonder if she really can have it all. Wouldn't it just figure that the moment you think life is perfect is when it falls spectacularly apart? Enter Hunter Morgan, the contractor in charge of Licked's renovations. Devastatingly handsome, and a smartass to boot, he's got his eyes on Ryleigh from the moment he finds her passed out on his couch (yeah, that's a long story). There's just one tiny complication—he happens to be Cameron's best friend. When the lines between relationships and friendships blur, and it's impossible to choose between two delicious flavors, what's a girl to do? Taste a sample of each? Or go out and get LICKED?

    There was something about her that most people didn't know. "My name is Kat Berger, and I love porn."When twenty-five-year-old Kat is dragged to a porn convention by her best friend, she's both embarrassed and nervous. The last thing she ever expected was to meet someone who makes her laugh like no other. This is a story about acceptance and friendship, and a love born out of the most unexpected of places.

    Landing a job on campus as an irreverent radio personality, she uses the anonymity to air all the campus dirty laundry—earning the infamous Sunday Lane more than a few enemies. But her true passion is spinning records, even if Drunk Earl is her biggest fan. Sydney’s junior year kicks off with the promise to be amazing. Or at least it does until Gray Peters, hotshot quarterback, unexpectedly reenters the scene. His presence threatens to destroy everything she has going, as well as resurrecting a night Sydney never wants to remember or repeat. She’d run away like a coward, but this time she's determined to stay and fight. A twisted battle of wit and trickery ensues, with one common goal—vengeance. Sydney and Gray set out to make each other miserable. But misery loves company, and soon, walls are destroyed and truths are revealed that could change their future forever. *** Contains mature situations and language ***

    A rich kid who’s not used to being disappointed by life, Quinn and his sociopathic half-brother Sebastian create a frat house game intended to treat girls how they see them—as simple game pieces to be manipulated for their pleasure.College sophomore Emilie Swanson knows Quinn’s reputation—after all, he did send one of her sorority sisters into therapy earlier in the semester—but the game and his charm bring them closer together and soon she starts to believe there’s more to Quinn than people think.But what if the more is something darker than a game of toying with emotions and breaking hearts?Quinn and Emilie might be falling for each other, but there are secrets he’s not ready to tell—and lifestyle changes he’s reluctant to make. She willingly stepped on the court, but if Emilie finds out she started out as nothing as a pawn in Quinn and Sebastian’s twisted game, she might never forgive him.To his surprise, Quinn finds that he might finally care about someone more than he cares about himself…even if that means letting Emilie walk away for good.

    Was there wine? Of course. Did I let loose with my best friends? Absolutely. Did I have one glass too many and follow a tattooed bad boy into a bar? Cue mortification.I don’t do reckless, or wild nights of hot sex.Correction: I didn’t used to. I also didn’t plan to drunk-email my boss and quit my soul-sucking job, leaving me in a financial mess.But I'm churning those lemons into lemonade! I’m chasing my dream job handling wine at San Francisco’s hottest restaurant. But guess who shows up as my competition? None other than my tattooed bad decision. Even worse, the mother-F-er smolders at me and says, “Six.”Jimmy claims he gave me six orgasms, but I don’t remember our wild night, and I don't climax from oral. Pretty sure I’d recall if my body did the impossible and unraveled under his tongue. I call him a liar. He calls me a challenge. I tell him this job is mine and he better watch out because he’s going down.Which is exactly what he offers with that dirty mouth of his…

    They bust out of an emergency exit and have axis-shaking sex. He pours whiskey in her belly button and after they run out of condoms, they have to get creative. That kind of sex. The next day, she learns that he is none other than Dr. Benjamin Beck, a brand new member of the Yale faculty and the hottest thing to happen to academia since… well, ever. She has to take his damned junior seminar to graduate, but it gets worse. He’s also her College Master: her boss, her advisor, her everything. And he’s just moved in, right downstairs. They can’t stay away from each other. They're either fusion or fission or both. They’re making out in libraries, hiding notes between stones, and sneaking off to nautically themed AirBnbs. Hear that sound? It’s the academic code of ethics going up in flames. If they're found out, he’ll lose his job and his reputation. She'll lose her scholarship and be forced to return to the life of lobster fishing that she thought she’d escaped. And they will be found out, yes they will.So what the hell are they going to do? *** To the reader: Things get damned dirty in this book. The characters curse, the sex gets explicit. It’s an erotic love story with fury. Be advised. Other tasters’ notes: HEA. Sweet. Funny. Dirty. Muddy. Wet. Inspired by a real professor.

    The effortlessly popular, lacrosse superstar, beautiful, blue-eyed nightmare Emerson Sawyer. Funny thing is, he didn’t even know I existed until our senior year, when his mom started hooking up with my dad. Now he torments me in the hallways, calling me “Sis” whenever he gets the chance, relishing in the fact that I can’t hide my blushing whenever he’s around. Even though I can’t stand him, my body betrays me—and he loves it. Emerson and his mom just moved in with us, and as if crushing on him wasn’t weird enough, now our bedrooms share a wall. The sexual tension keeps building between us, but I know nothing can ever happen…especially now that our parents are engaged. I try to tell myself that I hate him, that he’s wrong for me, that we’ll never be together… So why did I agree to play Seven Minutes in Heaven at his girlfriend’s high school party? And why does Emerson suddenly have my panties in his hands?Stepbrother Billionaire is a standalone novel. It contains adult themes, harsh language, and graphic sexual content.

    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.

    Steven went first. He was kind of our test subject. Like those monkeys that NASA sent off into space in the fifties, all the while knowing they’d never make it back.And now another poor rocket is ready to launch.But this isn’t just any posh New York wedding. You’ve seen my friends, you’ve met our families, you know you're in for a treat. Everyone wants their wedding to be memorable. This one’s going to be un-frigging-forgettable.Holy Frigging Matrimony takes place about a year after Tangled’s end and is from Drew’s POV.

    Oakley Davis is the star running back at our University, and the reason I’ve broken my vow to avoid the college party scene. Thanks to a mixup with my advisor, I’m now serving my Public Relations internship as a glorified babysitter to the party-hard football players.Specifically, Oakley.He’s impossible to manage. His Instagram is full of half-naked, drunk photos and he’d rather attend parties than practice. His brand needs some serious work, and when he’s not driving me insane, he’s sleeping his way through the entire female population. But I’m determined. I have plans to graduate a semester early and nothing or no one will get in my way. I’m a Virgo, after all. Oakley Davis might be a privileged, cocky, football star, but I’m Amanda Matthews; and I’ll do whatever it takes to get my A. I have to make sure I don’t end up falling in love with the idiot, first.

    It doesn’t bother me. I like my life the way it is.Since I’m single though, when my best friend and her husband finally decide to go on their dream honeymoon, she asks me to watch their three-year-old son.Of course I say yes.What my best friend neglects to tell me is that I won’t be babysitting alone. Feeling Max might be too much for me to handle, her husband asks his only single friend to help. Nick Carrington and I have met a couple of dozen times. I’ve never really given him a second thought—other than to say he’s kind of a jerk. Out loud. So he can hear. Sure, he’s tall, dark, and handsome. And yes, he has the best ass I’ve ever seen, and I mean ever seen quite literally. You see he mooned me at last year’s Fourth of July barbecue because, like I said, he’s a jerk.He always has to be the life of the party.He’s also arrogant.Imposing.Rich.And a playboy.I’d even go as far as to say he’s a manwhore.Yet somehow before I know it, this manwhore and I are co-parenting. Living under the same roof. Eating meals together and yes, talking.Don’t look at me like that—it’s not like I had a choice. Even though I knew every minute would be hell, I had to say yes.But after two weeks what I didn’t expect to discover is that I’d been wrong about him. That under his smart-ass exterior, he’s quite charming.That his arrogance is really confidence. And that the sight of his naked body would do really bad things to me.So yes, I’d misjudged him. And yes, I like him. Really like him. Although I might still think he’s a jerk…I now think he’s a sexy jerk.And I want more of him.The question is—does he want more of me?

     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?

    Formal, aloof politeness is all I’ll ever get from him, and that’s fine with me.He’s a prince, for Pete’s sake, and I’m just some American girl.But then there’s the night I can’t sleep, so I sneak onto the castle ramparts - only to discover that I’m not the only one with an insomnia problem. On the roof, far away from the demands of the state, Kostya is completely different.He’s relaxed. He’s charming. He’s pleasant.He’s flirty. And most of all, Kostya’s definitely not the uptight, rule-abiding prince I thought he was.I know better than to get hot and heavy with a foreign head of state, but what’s a commoner to do? He gives me smoldering, panty-fire-lighting looks from across every room. He has a secret smile that means I want you. He talks dirty to me in his mother tongue.There can’t be an us. Kostya’s destined to marry someone politically expedient, and whatever I’m destined for, it’s not becoming royalty.After all, aren’t fairy tales just stories?