When it comes to romance, I’m looking for something real, something that will last: the happily ever after. As a divorce attorney, he loves to tell me there’s no such thing. As a wedding planner, I choose to disagree. We disagree on almost everything, in fact. Everything except James Bond. The only time we really get along is when we’re watching 007 flicks together, and I’ll admit—he has rescued me from a disaster or five. So when one of the baton twirlers from his parade leaves a baby girl at his door with a note that says “I’ll come back for her” and he begs me for help, I can’t turn him down. But it’s a mistake. Because watching him with his daughter, I start to see another side of Nate, a side that has my breath coming faster, my body craving his, my heart longing for him to change his mind about love and tell me there’s a chance for us. I don’t want to be just another girl leaving his apartment in the morning. I want to be the one he asks to stay.

    Who wouldn’t?I didn’t count on being tempted by her sexy voice or her full lips.Too bad she’s off limits.Being a single dad isn’t easy, and I have rules — no relationships and no f*cking anyone my daughter knows.But when I become the subject of her posts, I can’t keep my hands off her any longer.I have to teach her everything she got wrong in her videos.

    Hargrove, comes a New Adult, Single Dad, Sexy, Stand Alone Romance.Single dad, Beckley Bridges, is sexy as hell. No, really, he’s the hottest thing since the sun was created. Honest to God, crack an egg on him and the thing will sizzle.So what’s the problem? He’s also a gigantic jerk. I hate the bastard. I try to avoid him at all costs. But for some reason, everywhere I go he seems to show up. Only the real issue is his daughter, English.She’s an adorable quirky first-grader who’s the sweetest thing since iced tea.And she’s one of my students but also the love of his life.So I have to deal with him on a professional level. It’s not easy. On a scale of easy to hard, dealing with Beckley Bridges is like nails screeching across a blackboard.But when English’s mother tries to gain custody after abandoning her on Beckley’s doorstep as an infant, he’ll do anything possible to keep English under his roof. That’s how he ends up propositioning me.And crazy as it sounds? I find myself considering it. This is a full-length novel that includes mature content not suitable younger readers.

     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.

    He's southern. And he won't stop showing up at my door half naked. Meet Elijah Jackson, my hot new neighbor...From the outside looking in? I’ve got it all. Prestigious job. Pretty house. And a perfect boyfriend who just proposed with the perfect ring.I should feel ecstatic—but instead, I feel suffocated. So I break up with my boyfriend, hop in my car, and head south.Charleston, South Carolina: home to stunning architecture, sultry accents, and—oh yeah—my perpetually shirtless neighbor, Elijah Jackson. As if his abs for days and inked up deliciousness aren’t enticing enough, he also encourages me to chase down my dreams. And the chemistry between us? Hotter than the kitchen at Eli’s restaurant. But I still have a life a thousand miles away. One I’ve worked really hard to build. And I don’t know if I can just leave it all behind.I have to choose. A choice Eli doesn't make any easier by inviting me out to his cabin for a long weekend. Just the two of us. And one bed. I swear to God this southerner is out to charm the panties right off me. Just this once, I might let him...SOUTHERN CHARMER is a slow burn, standalone romance with no cheating. It is part of the Charleston Heat Series, which is a series of interconnected standalone novels set in the steamy southern town of Charleston, South Carolina.SOUTHERN CHARMER: Oliva and Eli’s bookSOUTHERN PLAYER: Gracie and Luke’s bookSOUTHERN GENTLEMAN: Julia and Greyson’s bookSOUTHERN HEARTBREAKER: Eva and Ford’s book

    She’s loud, careless, and manages to get on Dale’s every single nerve. The noise sure isn’t helping, not with the nightmares his precious little daughter has. He’d do anything to take them away. But he’s stuck in this neighborhood, and even worse, he can’t stop looking at his loud neighbor, Clare. Why the hell does she have to be so pretty? Clare Delaney can appreciate Dale Harris’ good looks—and that annoys her because he doesn’t seem interested, and even if he did… No, she just can’t date this annoying single dad, no matter how hot he is, and that’s that. Even if she loves his daughter as if she were her own. Even if the chemistry seems off the charts. Two people who can’t stop arguing should never hop into bed together. So why do their worlds keep colliding, sparks flying? Could it be that opposites attract after all?

    It was my little secret. Until I accidentally told the whole world. Spilling something so humiliating on my social media is bad enough, I never expected anyone to actually message me about it. Especially not someone as smug and sexy as Heath "O Maker" James. He tells me he doesn't just THINK he can get me off—he knows it. As hot as he is, he's a total stranger. I shouldn't give him the time of day. But the more he talks... the more he tells me all the dirty things he wants to do to me... The more I can't say no. And once Heath gets his way, I'll be only screaming one word: Yes!

    And the more I drank, the more I wanted to do something reckless to celebrate.By reckless, I mean the sexy and alluring man dressed in a business suit standing near the bar. You know his type—tall, dark, handsome. I was sure he was out of my league, but I’d had just enough alcohol that things like that no longer seemed to matter. I’m not fat, mind you, but you can tell I like french fries, so there’s that.He took me home, and I enjoyed the hottest birthday sex of my life. Well, until it came to a screeching and rather unwelcome halt.There’s nothing quite like being interrupted mid-ride with a little voice asking, “What are you doing to my daddy?”Just kill me now . . . or so I thought.Come to find out, the man I rode like a bull at the rodeo is my new landlord.

    Damn it if that tattoo-covered would-be felon isn’t everywhere now, and lighting everything on fire under her skirt.His name is Hudson Fenn, and he’s frustratingly impossible to pin down. He works as a bike messenger, but has the manners of a prince—along with a strange tendency toward breaking and entering. As much as Verity knows he’s not her type, and likely to land her in jail, she can’t help but find her truest self when they’re together.Can she be brave enough to give Hudson a real chance? Will he be bold enough to reveal the man beneath the ink, or will his secrecy doom their connection? Also, WTF is the deal with Verity’s boss? No less than thirteen of your favorite romance writers have teamed up to tell this sexy, wacky, snort-inducing tale. With them you’ll visit the world’s most irritating office, a VIP room of questionable cleanliness, and the fanciest apartment a bike messenger has ever inhabited, but you’ll still never see this ending coming.

    Just another twenty-something girl, living the dream. That’s what I tell myself every morning. That I’m successful, self-aware, and well-balanced. It's just a tiny fib. I would be all of those things, if I had friends who didn’t work with me at the bank. And if I made it to pilates more than once a quarter. And if watermelon slushies weren't the main source of nutrients in my diet. It wouldn’t hurt if I’d had sex in the last year, either. (My best friend insists Jorge the Nightstand Boyfriend doesn’t count.)But when you know where you're going, you don’t need to enjoy the ride. Right?Even if some teeny part of me did want to fool around, Max Donovan would be the last guy I’d call. Sure, he made the indie video game that broke the internet. And yeah, his eyebrow piercing’s sexy, in a ‘what-are-you-in-a-band?’ kind of way. And fighting with him gets me going faster than Jorge on bezerker mode…He’s still colder than a cactus and twice as prickly. And I’m not talking about his face, because the guy’s barely old enough to shave. It’d really be best if we just ignored each other. Which is a problem, because Max Donovan is my new biggest client.So what happens when the girl who lives to work meets the guy who was born to play?Game on.

    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.

    Ten years ago, I gave Carter my innocence.

    Two slow blinks. Three hollow beats. I’m still here. After three years, that reminder isn’t as necessary. But everyone has their bad days. This is definitely one of them. Until an adorable little boy dashes into my store. His zest for life makes me smile in a way that’s been long lost. Then I meet his father. Well, confront is more like it. Brance Stone is volatile. Offensive. Harsh. And can’t be bothered to care. Not that I want him to. I get frostbite just looking into Brance’s glacial stare. But there’s something undeniable about him. My misery suddenly craves company. The suffocating numbness lifts whenever Brance is near. That alone should have me running in the opposite direction. Try as I might, there’s no avoiding him. If only I could understand why. As if he’d let me. I don’t ask. He doesn’t tell. A silent, bitter truce settles between us. That was our first mistake. It’s certainly not the last.

    Once a month, Addison comes to New Orleans and then…It. Is. On. Until Addison returns to New York, it’s just hot, happily-no-strings-attached sex. And beignets. And jazz. But lately for Gabe, it isn’t nearly enough.Sure, maybe Addison’s gotten a bit hooked on Gabe. After all, who can resist a guy who’s so sexy, so charming, and so… available? But maybe he’s too available for her right now. Addison’s just moved to New Orleans, and relationships are definitely off the table. Besides, guys always bail when they learn her secret: she’s a single mom.Only Gabe’s not running. Worse, he’s thrilled. But Addison never signed up for ever-after romance, and Gabe won’t settle for anything less. Now it’s a battle of wills — and when it comes to the woman he’s falling for, Gabe isn’t above playing a little dirty.

    Thomas Hard, the pleasure is all mine … literally.I can’t help it that my name suits me well.You know what else suits me well? That girl sitting across the bar, with her lips right where I tell them to be. I want her, and when I want something, it’s gonna be mine.One night. No names. No phone numbers. Just me, her, and pure pleasure.Except, that one girl turns out to be the biggest mistake of my life.Why?Because I broke my cardinal rule …Never b*ng a student.Author’s note: Don’t like reckless decisions & unbridled scr*wing? Don’t love girls that are obsessed with rainbows, unicorns, and ice-cream? Don’t enjoy a bit of corny humor sprinkled on top? Then this book is not for you. And last but not least, if you hate cats with huge jewels… Don't even bother.