Grey. Everyone in Cedar Creek, Texas, knows Jack McNight is an arrogant devil. Physically, I get it: he’s tan and fit, with coal-black hair that’s clearly been scorched by hellfire. Oh, and his personality? It burns just as hot. When I show up on the doorstep of Blue Stone Ranch, I’m run-down and rockin’ my last pair of underwear. I’m hoping for a savior, but instead, I find him. My opinion of Jack is marred by a dismal first impression, but his opinion of me is tainted even before I arrive. He’s heard I’m a spoiled princess there to take advantage of his goodwill. To him, I’m more trouble than I’m worth. Our button-pushing banter should get under my skin. His arrogance should be a major turn-off. Problem is, devils are known to offer their own form of temptation. Every one of his steely glares sends a shiver down my spine. Every steamy encounter leaves me reeling. Sure, it could be the Texas heat messing with my head, but there’s no way I’ll survive the summer without silencing him with a kiss and wrestling him out of those Wranglers. Who knows…going to bed with the devil might just be the salvation I’ve been looking for all along. ARROGANT DEVIL is a full-length romantic comedy of 93,000 words. For a limited time, I've also included an excerpt from my #1 bestselling sports romance THE SUMMER GAMES: SETTLING THE SCORE!

    But here I am, chopping away my frustrations.It all started when my brother, Paul, convinced me to go on one last family road trip across the Mother Road with him and my dad.. Just like old times, right? Wrong. What Paul fails to mention is his best man, Porter, will be joining us, who just so happens to be my childhood crush and the man who broke my heart four years ago. What is supposed to be a fun, family bonding experience across Route 66 turns into a war of pranks, awkward moments and bathrooms full of dirty flannel shirts and day old beard clippings. Paul’s know-it-all attitude and Porter’s devilish charm brings me to the brink of my sanity on my seven day trek across the United States with three bearded men in a small 1980’s RV.

    The questions, the stares—the assumption I’m the proud owner of a cock and balls. Not that it matters. I’ve proven over and over that I’m ready for anything the judgmental asses throw at me.Except the hot, single dad of twins who just moved to town.Brantley Cooper gets the shock of his life when I show up on his doorstep to fix up his kids’ new rooms. His son is confused why ‘the pretty lady has a drill,’ and his daughter has a new obsession—me.On paper, my job is easy. Go in, do their bedrooms, and leave.In theory, I’m spending eight hours a day with a guarded, sexy as hell guy, and I’m staying for dinner more often than I’m eating it alone, on my couch, with Friends re-runs.I shouldn’t be staying for dinner. I shouldn’t be helping him out with the twins. I shouldn’t be falling in love with tiny toes and dimpled cheeks.And I most definitely should not be kissing my client.Oops…MISS FIX-IT is a brand-new, standalone romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author, Emma Hart, who brought you BEING BROOKE and CATCHING CARLY.

    Master Baker. Dimples. Muscles. The unicorn of fake boyfriends.Complication: Wyatt Morgan. My brother's best friend. My sworn enemy. Military man. Sexy as hell single dad. The man I let into my panties for one night of hot hate sex after my ex dumped me. And the man who just scared off that perfect fake boyfriend. By pretending to be my real boyfriend.I can roll with this though. What’s the harm in Flirting with the Frenemy if it helps me get the job done?Complete my mission and move on.Or so I thought.Until Wyatt kisses me again and I start feeling things I shouldn't.The thing about weddings...nothing ever goes as planned. Flirting with the Frenemy is a rollicking fun romantic comedy featuring a single dad military man, an irritatingly attractive blast from his past, pirates, cursing parrots, and a wedding gone wild. It stands alone with no cheating or cliffhangers.

    A wedding we shouldn't have been invited to. Two unexpected romances. A scoop of sexy. And a double scoop of chaos. Lydia is a good girl who is above revenge. Good thing she has us. No one cheats on our best friend and rides off into the sunset with his new bride. What was supposed to happen? Unleash hell like two badasses. It was a simple plan, but we failed to anticipate a few things. A rogue prosthetic, an accidental exorcism, and dominatrix strippers willing to take things way too far, just to name a few. What actually happened? As usual, nothing went as planned, especially when two sexy distractions popped into the mix. We were there to avenge our friend, not to get entangled with two cocky, arrogant men, who don’t like to hear the word no. I was sure we could resist. I mean, it was only a week, right? What could happen in a week? Not intrigued enough? There's totally a duck in this story. Ah yeah. Now we have your undivided attention. Enjoy our chaos. #WorthIt

    It was from his daughter.  A sweet little girl named Birdie Maxwell who’d written to the magazine that I worked for.You see, once a year, my employer fulfilled a few wishes for readers. Only that column didn’t start up again for months.So I fulfilled some of her wishes myself. It was harmless…so I thought. Until one day I took things too far.While anonymously granting yet another of Birdie’s wishes, I got a look at her father. Her devastatingly handsome, single dad father. I should have stopped playing fairy godmother then. I should have left well enough alone. But I just couldn’t help myself.  I had a connection to this girl. One that had me acting irrationally.Like showing up on their doorstep.

    To her utter mortification, Quinn Sullivan—aka Sir McHotpants—witnesses it all then keeps turning up like a pair of shoes you lust after but can't afford. The last thing she expects is for Quinn to make her an offer she can't refuse.Neanderthal Seeks Human is book #1 in the Knitting in the City series. Each book is a standalone, full length, contemporary romantic comedy novel, and follows the misadventures and exploits of seven friends in Chicago, all members of the same knitting group.

     What happens when the one guy you want to avoid the most, is unavoidable? Lola Sexton is the writer behind Sex Says, a successful relationship column at the San Francisco Times. She’s a pro at advising others on their love lives, but if there’s one thing she isn’t in the market for, it’s love. Reed Luca is a wanderer and a jack of all trades. He doesn’t believe happiness comes from a nine to five job, or that success is delivered through a paycheck. But opportunity often finds its way to those who aren’t looking. When Reed signs up to write an anti-Sex Says relationship column, the result is all out war. Sex Says: If you let guys walk all over you, you could end up smelling like feet. Reed This: Don’t try to change who you are. There’s someone out there for everyone. Take someone with a foot fetish falling in love with someone who smells like feet as an example. Sex Says: Appreciate what you’re given. Reed This: Don’t like what you’re given? Fight for what you want. Sex Says: Don't ever date a guy named Reed Luca. Reed This: Find a woman like Lola Sexton and find her quick. She's a unicorn. Lola hates Reed. Really, she does. It’s just too bad the guy is so likable.

    When romance novelist Kate Smith suddenly gets writer's block as she's beginning the final installment of her international bestselling erotic Bed 'n Breakfast series, she'll do pretty much anything to get her groove back. Like sneak into a Tire Depot waiting room because her words flow there just like complimentary coffee-smooth, sweet, and scorchingly hot. She manages to fly under the radar until the rugged and charming mechanic, Miles Hudson, notices the quirky redhead slinking in and out of the employees only entrance. But she's way too intriguing to blow the whistle on. Doing a test-drive of her new book idea sounds like a much better option.

    You don't buy me, a$#%^*e. You earn me." The bride is a doll. The groom is the perfect gentleman. But the rest of the wedding party? They're the stuff of nightmares. Rich? Check. Vapid? Double Check. Entitled? Not enough checks in the world. And the Best Man? More like the Worst Man.But Maid of Honor Franchesca takes her duties seriously. Kidnapped groom? She's got this. Rude attendees? You just watch her handle them. So a Best Man with a big attitude and an even bigger...checkbook? Yeah, there's no way she's going to let that pretentious, judgmental jackhole ruin her best friend's wedding. No matter how sexy he is. (Well, that's the plan anyway...)Aiden Kilbourn doesn't do long-term relationships. He's busy ruling the business world, and has yet to find a woman he can tolerate for longer than a month, two at the outside, anyway. Conquering the unconquerable is basically his bread and butter. And he hasn't met a challenge that he can't win. But Franchesca Baranski? This smart-mouthed girl from Brooklyn may just be his downfall.

     Spencer I love sex. I love the power, the intimacy, the euphoria it brings. Too bad I’m not having any . . . You’d think as New Orleans’ most renowned sex therapist that I’d be swimming in single men. In a way, I am . . . except for the fact that one is in diapers and the other two are drowning in preteen hormones. As a single mother of three, my days are devoted to my clients and my kids, and my nights are spent with Fabio, my trusty vibrator. When my world begins to unravel, I have no choice but to move back home. And when my high school sweetheart comes waltzing back into my life, comedy and chaos ensue. What can I say? I never said I could pick ’em, but you can bet your ass I know how to fix ’em. Cooper As soon as the ink dried on my divorce papers, I made myself a solemn vow: I was done with relationships. Moving home to take over my father’s firm was the plan, until Spencer decided to return, along with three souvenirs from the life she’s lived without me. I’ve been in love with the girl next door for nearly all of my life; the rest was spent trying to forget her. I’d give almost anything for a second chance with her, but I have no time for distractions—especially the kind that involve diapers, bottles, and eighteen-year commitments. The problem is, she’s already got me by the balls . . . and I’m beginning to feel the noose tightening around my heart. *Intended for readers 18+

    Her references are good. And she’s easy on the eyes.Until …Flint discovers Ellen Rodgers, Board-Certified Music Therapist, plays music. Bongos, guitars, singing—not Beethoven administered through noise-cancelling headphones.The cut-throat attorney serves up an eviction notice to the bubbly, constantly humming redhead who's too sexy for her own good. But luck is on Ellen’s side when Flint’s autistic son, Harrison, takes an instant liking to her. A single dad can’t compete with guitars—and rats. Yes, she has pet rats.This woman …She’s annoyingly happy with a constant need to touch him—adjust his tie, button his shirt, invade his space, and mess with his mind.Still …She must go.Their lust-hate relationship escalates into something beautiful and tragic. This sexy, romantic-comedy explores the things we want, the things we need, and the impossible decisions parents and children make to survive.

    Of course it did. I’m a professional fluffer. It’s NOT what you think. I stage homes for a living. Real estate agents love me, and my work stands on its own merits. Sigh. Get your mind out of the gutter. Go ahead. Laugh. I’ll wait. See? That’s the problem. My career has used the term “fluffer” for decades. I didn’t even know there was a more… lascivious definition of the term. Until it was too late. The ad for a “professional fluffer” on Craigslist seemed like divine intervention. My last unemployment check was in the bank. I was desperate. Rent was due. The ad said cash paid at the end of the day. The perfect job! Staging homes means showing your best angle. The same principle applies in making a certain kind of movie. Turns out a “fluffer” doesn’t arrange decorative pillows on a couch. They arrange other soft, round-ish objects. The job isn’t hard. Er, I mean, it is — it’s about being hard. Or, well… helping other people to be hard. Oh, man… And that’s the other problem. A man. No, not one of the stars on the movie set. Will Lotham – my high school crush. The owner of the house where we’re filming. Illegally. In a vacation rental. By the time the cops show up, what I thought was just a great house staging gig turned into a nightmare involving pictures of me with an undressed star, Will rescuing me from an arrest, and a humiliating lesson in my own naivete. My job turned out to be so much harder than I expected. But you know what’s easier than I ever imagined? Having all my dreams come true.

    After a dairy disaster implodes her carefully crafted career in one fell ploop, she finds herself back home in upstate New York, bailing out her hippie mother and running the family diner.When gorgeous local farmer Leo Maxwell delivers her a lovely bunch of organic walnuts, Roxie wonders if a summer back home isn’t such a bad idea after all. Leo is heavily involved in the sustainable slow food movement, and he likes to take his time. In all things. Roxie is determined to head back to the west coast as soon as summer ends, but will the pull of lazy fireflies and her very own Almanzo Wilder be enough to keep her home for good?Salty. Spicy. Sweet. Nuts. Go on, grab a handful.

    Suit monkey, commitment-phobic serial dater. No more than three dates, unless he hasn't ... you know. Emmy:What a disaster! I only just made my flight to New York to help my uncle, and the phone I’m holding is not mine! It seems to belong to some commitment-phobic serial dater who’s never made it past four dates (according to the constant notifications he's getting from his fake dating profile...) And worse? I have a sinking feeling it’s that hot suit-monkey with the arctic grey eyes I just had a run-in with at the airport. Somehow I have to persuade him not to get a new phone until I get back. My whole life is on that phone. It’s only a few days. Surely we can handle it. Trystan :This is a joke, right? My life could not get more f*cked up. I’m in the middle of selling my company and on my way to a funeral and that hot mess hippie-chick stole my freaking phone. I’m not sure how she convinced me not to immediately walk into a smart phone store and get a new one, but now she’s going to have to play stand in and distract me while I deal with my long-avoided and estranged family. I don’t have my dating apps after all, and frankly she’s pretty funny. And sexy. And why can’t I stop texting her? And now we’re talking. And … look, I’ll admit that I usually run for the hills the morning after, but the morning after phone sex? That’s not really real, right?