Point is, she cost me my two best friends ten years ago. It’s payback time, and I’m going to make her life hell.When I’m not banging her silly and myself stupid.I need to get my head back in business, because getting off is great, but "He was a man who had sex, and lots of it, and in the worst locations, with the woman of his nightmares" isn’t the inscription I want on my tombstone.Even if it’s true.AmbrosiaThere are three things I hate:Bratwurst in any form, my neighbors boinking loudly like farm animals at 3 AM, and Chase Jett.Mostly I hate Chase Jett. It’s been ten years since he took my virginity—I’d make a bratwurst joke, but the unfortunate truth is that it would have to be a bratbest joke, and yes, it kills me to admit it—and now he’s not only a billionaire, he’s also my new boss.Turns out our hate is mutual. And this kind of hate is horrifically twisted, filthy, and banging hot.I just might have to hate him forever.MISTER McHOTTIE is 45,000 gloriously hilarious, hot, sexy words that your mother warned you about, complete with an organic happy-ever-after (or seven), a Bratwurst Wagon, ill-advised office pranks, and no cheating or cliffhangers.

    Three margaritas, two shots, and one beer—because it was free.I think it’s important to be open and honest with your co-workers, don’t you?So here I am, being honest. Drunk but honest. Or just drunk with lust? You decide.I like you so much it’s clouding my judgment and making me do things I never would sober. Like write this letter.I have a hopeless, foolish, schoolgirl crush on you when you are the last person on earth I should be falling for. Did you know people around the office call you a sadist? An egomaniac. An insensitive, arrogant prick. Your bark is worse then your bite, and you don’t scare me. The fact is, I’d love that bite of yours to nip at my bare skin while we’re both wearing nothing but sheets.For once I want you to look at me as more than one of your employees. And as long as we're being honest, that navy blue suit you wear? With the crisp white shirt? It really makes me want to loosen your tie and show you who’s boss. Love,Sincerely,Yours.

    I knew you’d open this email faster if I tempted you with a glimpse of JT's “PP”. Well, put your pants back on and grab some bubbly because I have much better news to share.I GOT A JOB!As of tomorrow, I’ll be the new executive assistant at Lorena Lefray Designs. I am SO excited, but there’s one itty bitty problem: I won’t be Lorena’s assistant. I’ll be working for her older brother, Julian.I know what you're thinking- "But Jo, what’s the problem?"Google him. Now. He’s the man in the fitted navy suit whose face reminds you that there’s hope yet for this cruel, ugly world. Keep scrolling…Do you see those dimples? Yup. That’s the Julian Lefray I will be reporting to tomorrow morning.Lord, help us all...XO,Jo

    Okay, fine, calling him an asshat before knowing he was my boss wasn't my finest moment. Hating him should be easy. I just never counted on him being so gorgeous or charming when he's not annoying me.AustinI expected my new assistant to be professional and punctual, but all I'm getting are dirty looks and rude comments. I should fire the little hellion, but instead all I can think about is bending her over my desk and breaking every rule I've ever made for myself.One look. One touch. One night. If we break the rules, our lives will never be the same again. Good thing rules were made to be broken. And besides, it feels so good to Tempt the Boss.

    At least it’s not my brother’s best friend. Or my best friend’s brother. Or… never mind. It’s all pretty cliche. And worse? My boss’ best friend is his business partner. Which sort of makes him my boss too. Okay - it’s not sort of. It’s definite. Gabe Laurent is off limits. Totally off limits. Which is fine. I make do with my imagination. He’ll never know. Ever. Unless my work bestie passes me an eighties-style teen movie sex quiz during a meeting and I fill it out. And it ends up in Gabe’s hands… *** Please Note *** Wrong - Sophie's Story Right - Everly's Story Fling - Sandra's Story Trust - Chloe's Story - November 8, 2016 Each book can be read on it's own, but TRUST takes place 6 months after the first three books. Characters from those first three books appear in TRUST, living their happily ever afters.

    . ." Good question. I’d like to preface this by saying it was never my intention to ever get involved in a workplace romance, let alone get involved with the most surly, agitating, and pompous man I’ve ever met who just so happens to be my new friend’s brother. My intentions were to show students how English and reading books could actually be fun and make a new life for myself in the suburbs of Chicago.But so far, I’ve managed to be called into the principal’s office.Coerced into participating in the teacher's badminton league.And instigated into passionate fights with Arlo Turner over education and decorum while losing my underwear at the same time.Known as Mr. Turns Me On, he’s the reason I might get fired from my first ever teaching job.

    I know it sounds crazy, and daredevil tendencies aside, I definitely went too far to get his attention. But you haven’t seen him.Colton Wolfe. My boss.Tall, dark, and handsome, with the sexiest British accent I’ve ever heard. His only flaw? That he’s completely oblivious to what’s been right in front of him all along.Me.Well, he was until a few minutes ago.Remember those good old days? Before I got caught making "nice" with the copy machine, and before I was totally getting fired?But wait. Maybe I’m not.If I can take on the biggest dare of all. Making Colton Wolfe fall in love with me. The Dare is a full-length romance with a HEA and no cliffhanger.

    Okay, so I’d had a bad day and took it out on a bystander in a pizza shop. But there’s nothing innocent about Ally Morales. She proves that her first day of her new job… in my office… after being hired by my mother.So maybe her colorful, annoying, inexplicably alluring personality brightens up the magazine’s offices that have felt like a prison for the past year. Maybe I like that she argues with me in front of the editorial staff. And maybe my after-hours fantasies are haunted by those brown eyes and that sharp tongue.But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to be the next Russo man to take advantage of his position. I might be a second-generation asshole, but I am not my father.She’s working herself to death at half a dozen dead-end jobs for some secret reason she doesn’t feel like sharing with me. And I’m going to fix it all. Don’t accuse me of caring. She’s nothing more than a puzzle to be solved. If I can get her to quit, I can finally peel away all those layers. Then I can go back to salvaging the family name and forget all about the dancing, beer-slinging brunette.AllyHa. Hold my beer, Grumpy Grump Face.Author’s Note: A steamy, swoony workplace romantic comedy with a grumpy boss hero determined to save the day and a plucky heroine who is starting to wonder if there might actually be a beating heart just beneath her boss’s sexy vests.

     This was a VERY EASY decision to make, as the past two years have been utterly miserable. I wish his next executive assistant all the luck in the world (she'll need it) and if my boss should need me to do anything over the next two weeks, kindly tell him that he can do it [his] goddamn self... Sincerely (Not Really), Tara Lauren That’s the version of my two weeks’ notice I should’ve sent to my boss, because the more professional version - the one where I said I was "grateful for all the opportunities," and "honored by all the rewarding experiences" over the years? That letter was rejected with his sexy, trademark smirk and an “I highly suggest you read the fine print of your contract...” So, I did. And now I've realized that unless I fake my death, poison him, or find a way to renegotiate my impossible contract, I’m stuck working under one of the cockiest and most ruthless bosses in New York. Then again, I thought that was the case until he called me late last night with an emergency proposition... **This is a standalone contemporary romance.**

    But where’s the fun in that? She decides to stay and exact a little revenge on her insufferable ass of a boss.Billionaire Cole Harrington quickly figures out something’s afoot with his usually agreeable personal assistant. When he finds out about the office pool betting on how long it’ll take him to fire her, he decides to spice things up and see how far he can push her until she quits.The game is on, with everyone waiting to see who will crack first. But the bet sparks a new dynamic between them, and soon they realize they just might have crossed that fine line between hate and love.

    Forget kissing frogs. She can’t even get past the first date. But at work, she’s a badass—the longest-running assistant billionaire Shepherd Calloway has ever had. Her coworkers wonder how she handles the big bad wolf—and never gets bit. Shepherd Calloway isn’t interested in being anyone’s sugar daddy. Tired of women who only want him for his money, he swears off dating, determined to focus on running his empire. Until his gold-digging ex hits him where it hurts, putting him in a difficult position.His solution—to have Everly pose as his live-in girlfriend—is obviously crazy. But the timing is uncanny. It just so happens Everly needs a favor from her boss—a big and awkward one—and this could ensure everyone gets what they want.Besides, Everly can totally survive a few months of faux romance. Except there’s a problem. Shepherd is supposed to be a single-minded, unemotional robot boss. Not an actual human with a heart and morning wood. Between the awkward bed-sharing and tingly fake dates, lines are blurring. And as Everly gets to know the real Shepherd, she discovers there’s more to the man behind the bank account.And faking it gets all too real.Faking Ms. Right is a hot, STAND-ALONE romantic comedy.

    One hot boss. One too many hot encounters... It’s not you. It’s me. No, seriously. It is me. Not only does my name literally mean “unfortunate,” but that’s the story of my life. Everything I touch turns to crap. An apartment fire—that I swear I was not responsible for—means I’m living back at home with my sex-mad parents. Yay, me! Which is why I need my new job as personal assistant to Cameron Reid to get back on my feet. Three months in this job and I can move back out and, hopefully, remember to turn off my flat iron once in a while. Ahem. On paper, my job is easy. Make coffee. Book appointments. Keep everything in order. Until I walk in on my boss, half-naked, wearing nothing but the kind of tiny white towel that dreams are made of. Now, nothing is easy—except our mutual attraction. But he’s my boss, and you know what they say about mixing work and pleasure: unless you do p*rn, it’s just not worth it. Or is it?

    Seriously. The guy is like a potassium addict. Of course, I touched it. If you want to get technical, I actually put it in my mouth. I chewed it up, too... I even swallowed.I know. Bad, bad, girl.Then I saw him, and believe it or not, choking on a guy's banana does not make the best first impression. I should backtrack a little here. Before I ever touched a billionaire’s banana, I got my first real assignment as a business reporter. This wasn’t the same old bottom-of-the-barrel assignment I always got. I wasn’t going to interview a garbage man about his favorite routes or write a piece on how picking up dog poop from people’s yards is the next big thing. Nope. None of the above, thank you very much.This was my big break. My chance to prove I wasn’t a bumbling, clumsy, accident-prone walking disaster. I was infiltrating Galleon Enterprises to follow up on suspicions of corruption. Cue the James Bond music.I could do this. All I had to do was land the position as an intern and nail my interview with Bruce Chamberson.Forget the fact that he looked like somebody carved him out of liquid female desire, then sprinkled on some "makes men question their sexuality" for good measure. I needed to make this work. No accidents. No disasters. No clumsiness. All I needed to do was hold it together for less than an hour.Fast forward to the conference room before the interview, and that's where you would find me with a banana in my hand. A banana that literally had his name on it in big, black sharpie. It was a few seconds later when he walked in and caught me yellow-handed. A few seconds after that was when he hired me. Yeah. I know. It didn't seem like a good sign to me, either.

     But one look at Cade Hill, the sexy new sports director, and uptight reporter Rebecca Fieldstone is daydreaming about other things. Sex in his office… Sex in the on-set kitchen… Sex in the supply closet… She can’t stop thinking about the former NFL quarterback and how perfect he’d look between her sheets—except he’s an arrogant jerk with a huge… ego. He’s the last guy she’d ever have a one-night stand with. Cade Hill draws a thick professional line on office romance—until it comes to the hyper-focused Rebecca. He wants her, and he gets his wish when a chance encounter has them having the hottest sex of their lives. It’s just a hook-up, she says. When can we do it again? he says. With Rebecca determined to keep Cade in the friend zone, it’s going to be an uphill battle for Cade to convince her he’s the last guy she’ll ever want. THE LAST GUY is the first white-hot CONTEMPORARY ROMANTIC COMEDY from Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills and Tia Louise. It features Fireball-fueled hookups, Doritos Locos Tacos, attack monkeys, toddlers in tiaras, and one fabulous drag queen. Prepare for frantic clicking (or page flipping!) and smoking-hot sexytimes all the way to the out-of-this-world happily-ever-after.

    If I took time to explain, Declan Moss would get hit by a bus.Let me back up. I didn’t ask for this. I was perfectly happy—and perfectly sane—before I was tasked with keeping Declan Moss alive. It was a thankless job until the moment that my panties dropped and his delicious smirk found his way in between my thighs.Hello, toe-curling ecstasy. Goodbye, professional boundaries. And suddenly, there’s a new danger to avoid: the falling of my heart.