Location: Cubicles outside Canon’s office.Co-workers: Betting on how long Canon’s new PA will last.Me: No doubts. Ms. Gum-smacker won’t last the day. I need to place my bet.Manolo Blahnik’s New Fall Shoes: Mine. As soon as Madeline hands over my winnings. Emma Baker has never spoken a word to Alaric Canon, nor has he to her. But she’s studied him every day across the office tundra for almost a year. Canon is hard and fierce, terrifying and beautiful. He’s also the most stern, unforgiving person Emma has ever seen. Emma’s co-workers run a betting pool for Personal Assistant terminations. There’s a separate pot for the day one leaves without crying. Not likely…Canon made a former Navy SEAL cry. He has high standards and low tolerance. Everyone knows it. Everyone stays away. Everyone who can, that is. Except Emma. She can’t look away. Alaric Canon is the single most attractive man she’s ever seen. Bar none. Canon has never noticed her. Not once in almost a year. She’s not even a blip on his radar. But she will be. His radar will be blipless no more. It is a goal. Emma has a plan.

    I just know what I like.A powerful billionaire in a suit wasn’t even my first choice. McAllister Stonewall was never on my radar, I didn’t even know he existed.But I do now.His hands are all over me at work. The heat of his chest pressing against my bare back as he bends me over the desk is the only thing on my mind.He is my most forbidden desires unleashed. He is my new secret obsession. He is my Mr. Perfect.Until the moment I realize… There’s no such thing as perfect.

     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.

    commitment? Marley Mason is dreading the arrival of the new business consultant. After all, this man will most likely outsource her job to China. The last thing she would expect is a case of mistaken identity, leading to false accusations of kidnapping when she attempts to pick up the wrong man at the airport, or worse... that she would have such a visceral reaction to the right man.Rick Randy is super sexy, scandalously flirty and perfect masturbation material, but a relationship is out of the question. Rick is contracted on a temporary basis to fix Marley’s ailing company, then pull out, although as he expresses to Marley, pulling out is difficult for him, in more ways than one! Marley’s feelings range from utter confusion to intense contemplation as Rick charms his way into her life. All of those C-words Marley can control, but it’s the other C-word she fears—commitment.

    ARROGANT. A**HOLE. No doubt about it, Sebastian ‘Oz’ Osborne is the university’s most celebrated student athlete—and possibly the biggest douchebag. A walking, talking cliché, he has a filthy mouth, a fantastic body, and doesn’t give a sh*t about what you or anyone else thinks. SMART. CLASSY. CONSERVATIVE. Make no mistake, Jameson Clarke may be the university’s most diligent student—but she is no prude. Spending most of her time in the hallowed halls of the library, James is wary of pervs, jocks, and douchebags—and Oz Osborne is all three. She’s smart, sarcastic—and not what he expected. …EVERY DOUCHBAG HAS HIS WEAKNESS. He wants to be friends. He wants to spend time with her. He wants to drive her crazy. He wants… Her.

    I’m a virgin attempting to write a romance novel and I'm having an impossible time trying to write a passionate and swoon-worthy love scene worthy of being published, thanks to my lack of experience. My two best friends encourage me to drop the pen, step outside my comfort zone, and gain some real life experience through multiple dating facets such as blind dates, online profiles, and random hookups. But losing my "flower" is proving to be much tougher than expected… This is the story of my awkward, humiliating, and slightly terrifying life, but like all romance novels, I know it will end in a happily ever after. At least that's what I keep telling myself. **WARNING: READ IN THE CONFINES OF YOUR OWN HOME DUE TO RANDOM OUTBURSTS OF LAUGHTER. IF YOU ARE ADDICTED TO CLIFFHANGERS, GETTING YOUR HEART RIPPED OUT OF YOUR CHEST AND FEELING LIKE A BULLDOZER JUST PLOWED THROUGH YOUR STOMACH, THEN THIS BOOK IS NOT FOR YOU. IF YOU LIKE PEEING YOUR PANTS AND CRYING FROM LAUGHING SO HARD, THEN PLEASE CONTINUE READING.

    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

    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.

    I don’t want to party or try to move on. I just want to stay home and post a new recipe on my blog: Brynn’s Dips and Balls.But my friends aren’t having it. Get out there again, they say. It will be fun, they say. I’m still taking a hard pass. Free designer cocktails, they say. And that’s a game-changer. Too bad my ex shows up with his new arm candy. That’s when I lose my mind. But when my besties dare me to leap on the first single man I see, they don't expect me to actually go through with it.TOMAll I need right now is some peace and quiet while my home renovation TV show is on hiatus. But when a curvy woman in a red wrap dress charges me like she’s a gymnast about to mount my high bar, all I can do is brace myself and catch her. What follows is the hottest experience of my adult life. I want a repeat, but my flying Cinderella disappears immediately afterward. She doesn’t leave a glass slipper, either—just a pair of panties with chocolate bunnies printed on them. But I will find her.

    I’m a college drop-out working a dead-end job, my best friend Carly’s dog gets more action than I do, and I have more bad dates in my diary than there are movie remakes. Not to mention I'm completely and utterly in love with Cain Elliott.The problem? He’s in a relationship. With a girl who’s so plastic she makes Barbie cry herself to sleep with jealousy. The second problem? He's my best friend.My shut-up-and-put-on-Harry-Potter, yes-this-is-your-shirt, help-I-have-no-power, crap-I’m-out-of-tampons, kinda best friend. And that’s all he can be, right?Right.(Being Brooke is a standalone romantic comedy. Hilarious, super-sexy, and possibly highly inappropriate at times, this is the perfect feel-good read!)

    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?

    You can call it a "locational" hazard, if you will.That’s Tomahawk for you.We rank people based on just how crazy they are. And the four craziest families in town are called the Wild Ones. I’m on the bottom tier of those, so technically I’m not as crazy as the other Wild Ones. In fact, if it wasn’t for my brothers and their endless antics, I wouldn’t be considered a Wild One at all. Ahem. Sure. We’ll go with that.Anyway, I have a best friend who endures it all with me. Benson Nolans is my one, constant favorite person.Without him, I’d probably go really crazy, and not the fun kind. It’d be ridiculous, after three years of a flawless friendship, to mess that all up by falling for him.I mean, even if we did get a little too close one night, it’d be reckless endangerment. Even if we did suddenly feel the chemistry that’s always been there and stop toeing the line, it’d be a foolish risk to take.It’d be stupid to start hoping a really fun, but completely irrational, night with zero inhibitions might accidentally happen.Really stupid… Right?*NO cliffhanger*Stand-alone book *Sexual Content*Adult language*Completely, 100% crazy

    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.

    I really, really don’t.He’s egotistical, crass, and my patient’s owner—which makes him totally off limits. Yep, that’s right. He owns the wiener I’m currently working on. A wiener dog—get your dirty mind out of the gutter. I’ve also worked on his spoodle, his cocker-shitzu, and a cheagle—don’t ask. (And no, it’s not a sexual position.) It doesn’t help that he also represents most of my joint-owned veterinary practice’s small clientele. We’d only just opened the doors a few months ago, and in he strode with a yelping Taco Terrier. One haughty look at our sparkling new facilities, he’d demanded royal treatment, even though I was currently finger deep up a squalling tom cat. Ever since then, he expects me to serve him.Any time. All the time. Him and his revolving zoo of dogs. One of these days, I’m going to swat him for being such a pompous ass but I can’t deny the way he handles his charges makes me want to see past the ‘do as I say and don’t ask questions’ barking exterior. But then last week…he caught me staring at his um, cough, package. His bossy commands switched to a cocky smirk. He gave me permission to do something I promised myself I would never ever do.I can touch it.If I want…

    It's definitely the SIZE of the boat too. And I've got both firing on all cylinders. In fact, I have ALL the right assets. Looks, brains, my own money, and a big c*&k.You might think I'm an a*&hole. I sound like one, don’t I? I'm hot as sin, rich as heaven, smart as hell and hung like a horse.Guess what? You haven't heard my story before. Sure, I might be a playboy, like the NY gossip rags call me. But I’m the playboy who’s actually a great guy. Which makes me one of a kind. The only trouble is, my dad needs me to cool it for a bit. With conservative investors in town wanting to buy his flagship Fifth Avenue jewelry store, he needs me not only to zip it up, but to look the part of the committed guy. Fine. I can do this for Dad. After all, I’ve got him to thank for the family jewels. So I ask my best friend and business partner to be my fiancée for the next week. Charlotte’s up for it. She has her own reasons for saying yes to wearing this big rock.And pretty soon all this playing pretend in public leads to no pretending whatsoever in the bedroom, because she just can’t fake the kind of toe-curling, window-shattering orgasmic cries she makes as I take her to new heights between the sheets.But I can’t seem to fake that I might be feeling something real for her.What the fuck have I gotten myself into with this…big rock?BIG ROCK is a standalone, dirty romance novel written from the guy’s POV by NYT Bestselling author Lauren Blakely…