Not much has changed in Culpepper. The cool kids are still cool. Now they just own car dealerships and live in McMansions next door. Oh, and the whole town is still talking about that Homecoming she ruined her senior year. Desperate for a new start, Marley accepts a temporary teaching position. Can the girl banned from all future Culpepper High Homecomings keep the losing-est girls soccer team in school history from killing each other and prevent carpal tunnel in a bunch of phone-clutching gym class students? Maybe with the help of Jake Weston, high school bad boy turned sexy good guy. When the school rumor mill sends Marley to the principal’s office to sign an ethics contract, the tattooed track coach, dog dad, and teacher of the year becomes her new fake boyfriend and alibi—for a price. The Deal: He’ll teach her how to coach if she teaches him how to be in a relationship. Who knew a fake boyfriend could deliver such real orgasms? But it’s all temporary. The guy. The job. The team. There’s too much history. Rock bottom can’t turn into a foundation for happily ever after. Can it? Warning: Story also includes a meet-puke, a bouffanted nemesis, a yard swan and donkey basketball, a teenage-orchestrated makeover, and a fake relationship that gets a little too real between the sheets.

     I keep my two worlds separate. At work, I’m King of Wall Street. The heaviest hitters in Manhattan come to me to make money. They do whatever I say because I’m always right. I’m shrewd. Exacting. Some say ruthless. At home, I’m a single dad trying to keep his fourteen year old daughter a kid for as long as possible. If my daughter does what I say, somewhere there’s a snowball surviving in hell. And nothing I say is ever right. When Harper Jayne starts as a junior researcher at my firm, the barriers between my worlds begin to dissolve. She’s the most infuriating woman I’ve ever worked with. I don’t like the way she bends over the photocopier—it makes my mouth water. I hate the way she’s so eager to do a good job—it makes my dick twitch. And I can’t stand the way she wears her hair up exposing her long neck. It makes me want to strip her naked, bend her over my desk and trail my tongue all over her body. If my two worlds are going to collide, Harper Jayne will have to learn that I don't just rule the boardroom. I’m in charge of the bedroom, too. The King of Wall Street is a sexy, stand alone, contemporary romance.

    You know, the one with the to-die-for body and panty-melting smirk. And then there‘s the way his designer suits drape over his broad shoulders and big...well, we‘ve all heard the rumors, the ones that say he‘s up for any challenge.But I can‘t see him that way. He‘s my boss - technically one of the owners of the company where I work - and definitely not in my league. Men like him don‘t notice women like me, and they don‘t date them. And I don‘t date men like him. Until that one time that I catch him in a compromising position when I‘m also in need of a last-minute date for a wedding...and then it‘s not real. It‘s blackmail.For one weekend, he‘s my plus-one.Beautiful and unobtainable.From the moment she walked into my office with those stunning blue eyes and crazy sensual curves, she‘s been on my mind. Three years and never once has she acted interested in me. Usually I flash a million-dollar smile and women fall to their knees, some literally. Not her.Then on the occasion that I agree to let another woman do that - fall to her knees - guess who happens to catch us?It may not be the most conventional way to get on her radar, but I didn‘t get this far in business without knowing when to seize an opportunity. If this sexy little firecracker with perfectly kissable lips thinks she can blackmail me into attending her cousin‘s wedding, I‘m going to jump at the chance to be her plus-one.You love her darker side. Now it‘s time to meet Leatha, the lighter side of Aleatha, as she trades her renowned twists and turns for laughs and love with this sexy new standalone romance, Plus One.

    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.

    Shen, comes a new standalone, enemies-to-lovers romance.Célian Laurent.Manhattan royalty.Notorious playboy.Heir to a media empire....And my new boss.I could have impressed him, if not for last month's unforgettable one-night stand.I left it with more than orgasms and a pleasant memory--namely, his wallet.Now he's staring me down like I'm the dirt under his Italian loafers, and I'm supposed to take it.But the thing about being Judith "Jude" Humphry is I have nothing to lose.Brooklyn girl.Infamously quirky.Heir to a stack of medical bills and a tattered couch.When he looks at me from across the room, I see the glint in his eyes, and that makes us rivals.He knows it.So do I. Every day in the newsroom is a battle.Every night in his bed, war.But it's my heart at stake, and I fear I'll be raising the white flag.

    Sometimes, you need a Magnificent Bastard.Face it, ladies: love sucks and then you cry...while your ex rides off into the sunset banging your best friend. But why let a break-up end in tears when it can end with sweet revenge? Enter Magnificent Bastard Consulting and me, chief executive bastard. I've got it all--looks, brains, a heart of gold, and the killer instinct guaran-damn-teed to make your ex regret the day he said goodbye.With the help of my virtual assistant, I've built an empire giving broken-hearted women the vengeance they deserve, while keeping myself far from the front lines of the heart. Life is a bowl of cherries, until my virtual assistant shows upon my real doorstep for the first time, begging for a Magnificent Bastard intervention of her own.  Damn... She's a bona fide sex kitten. I pride myself on being a true pro, but pretending to be her lover soon leads to giving it to her good, hard, fast, and up against the wall. And somewhere between getting balls deep in my sweet and sexy assistant and watching her ex beg for a second chance, I break every last one of my damn rules--professional and personal.So what's my next move? Fight for the girl who makes me want to get up on a white horse and ride to her rescue, or stay a Magnificent Bastard to the end? Warning: MAGNIFICENT BASTARD is a stand-alone erotic romance told from the hero's point of view. No cliffhanger. Lots of dirty talk. A Sexy Flirty Dirty Standalone Romance

    She also has no filter.”“He’s no southern gentlemen.”“I had one last season to prove my worth.”“I’d never seen a game.”“He told me he was a player.”“She told me she was a lesbian.”“But you fell in love with me anyway.”“Yeah, baby, I totally did.”

    Not that I'm interested in him in that way. Attorneys can't go around sleeping with their clients. Not even if he is the most beautiful man I've ever met and so ridiculously smart he makes my nerdy-girl heart sigh.Besides, he has too much on the line to risk taking a chance on the insane chemistry building between us. We both do.I've always followed the rules. Too bad he makes me want to break each and every one of them.All About the D is a romantic comedy and a full-length standalone. Due to adult situations and sexual content, it's recommended for readers over the age of 18.

    Doing so would be considered "unethical" and "a fireable offense." Lucky for you, ethics was never my strong suit.44 Chapters About 4 Men is a laugh-out-loud funny and brutally honest look at female sexuality, as told through the razor-sharp lens of domesticated bad girl BB Easton. No one and nothing is off limits as BB revisits the ex-boyfriends—a sadistic tattoo artist, a punk rock parolee, and a heavy metal bass player—that led her to finally find true love with a straight-laced, drop-dead-gorgeous . . . accountant. After settling down and starting a family with her perfectly vanilla "husbot," Ken, BB finds herself longing for the reckless passion she had in her youth. She begins to write about these escapades in a secret journal, just for fun, but when Ken starts to act out the words on the pages, BB realizes that she might have stumbled upon the holy grail of behavior modification techniques. The psychological dance that ensues is nothing short of hilarious as BB wields her journal like a blowtorch, trying to light a fire under her cold, distant partner. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but in the end, BB learns that the man she was trying so hard to change was perfect for her all along.

    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?

    After she wakes him up with a few slaps and some smelling salts, the very first thing he does is ask her out for ribs and beer. His name is Jimmy. He looks like a Gillette model. And he’s just too hunky to resist.Jimmy “The Falcon” Falconi is mystified that Mary has absolutely no idea who he is. Mystified and refreshed. He is, after all, not your everyday NFL quarterback. He shops at Costco, has a soft spot for Pinterest, and is in the midst of an epic losing streak.Jimmy falls for Mary fast and hard, the way he does everything—balls out and like it’s fourth and long. And he realizes he’s finally met his match. That stamina he’s so proud of? Doesn’t stand a chance against her Kegels.But what they don’t know is she’s also his new physical therapist, recently hired by the Bears to work on his rotator cuff…and groin injury. If she can’t help him, he’ll be traded faster than they can say “offensive penetration.”In spite of the thousands of internet memes featuring Jimmy’s face with captions like: “HEY GIRL, WANT TO TOUCH MY BALLS?” Mary finds herself falling for him and his unrelenting desire to make her his.Until a toddler shows up at Jimmy’s door.And throws their lives into total chaos.***To the reader: Sweet. Safe. HEA. This is a comedy that gets very dirty, so be advised. Other tasters' notes: Hints of honey and champagne. And a feisty little dog named Frankie Knuckles.

    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…

    Only neither of us attended the wedding, and the nuptials happened decades before either of us was born. Our grandfathers had been best friends and business partners, at least up until my grandfather’s wedding day—when his bride-to-be blurted out she couldn’t marry him because she was also in love with Weston‘s grandfather. The two men spent years fighting over Grace Copeland, who also happened to be their third business partner.  But in the end, neither man could steal half of her heart away from the other. Eventually, they all went their separate ways. Our grandfathers married other women, and the two men became one of the biggest business rivals in history. Our fathers continued the family tradition of feuding. And then Weston and I did, too. For the most part, we kept as much distance as possible. Until the day the woman who started the feud died—and unexpectedly left one of the most valuable hotels in the world to our grandfathers to share. Now I’m stuck in a hotel with the man I was born to hate, trying to unravel the mess our families inherited. As usual, it didn’t take long for us to be at each other’s throats. Weston Lockwood was everything I hated: tall, smart, cocky, and too gorgeous for his own good.  We were fire and ice.  But that shouldn’t be an issue. Our families were used to being at war. There was just one minor problem, though. Every time Weston and I fought, we somehow wound up in bed.

    He’s the it man of Hollywood—until the ultimate betrayal sends him into a downward spiral of alcohol-infused days, ending with a different woman in his bed every night. His only way out of the funk is accepting a new movie deal with the hottest director in Hollywood.Charlotte Michaels is a designer-brands girl on a thrift-store budget until she lands the mother of all jobs as Vaughn West’s wardrobe assistant on his latest movie.Only their first meeting doesn’t go as planned, and now, Vaughn is acting like a jerk. So, why do their clothes seem to keep falling off whenever they’re around each other? And why can’t Charly seem to keep her mind in the closet and off Vaughn? Things are about to get hot, dirty, and messy in Hollywood. Especially if Charly’s closely guarded secret falls out of her closet.

    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?