Example: You're chatting with a guy you're interested in and your friend comes along and lays claim to him.MaggieThat's my life except it's worse. My friend who keeps jamming me is my gay roommate, and if that isn't a W.T.F. moment, I'm not sure what is. Fact: He went home with three yes, three of the guys I had been so sure were into me. Fact: He's really pissing me off. I mean, hello? I'm trying to get back in the saddle, but I'll never manage to get a boyfriend before the age of fifty if he keeps this up. Fact: Secretly, I wonder what it would be like if he weren't gay.RyThe day I interviewed for the room to rent, everything changed. I knew I had met the girl, except there was one small problem: she didn't want anything to do with men. I recognized a top-notch force field when I saw one. She'd been burned badly and didn't want to deal with a heterosexual guy as a roommate. I could've turned around and found another place to live, but I wanted to live there with her. So I had to go undercover. Fact: I'm in love with my roommate. Fact: She's going to hate me if I come clean now. Fact: I'm not giving up. Which means I'll just have to continue to run defense until I figure out a way to get Maggie to see the real me. The me that loves her. The me that would never do her wrong. Until then, I'll keep running off every guy who shows any interest. Until then, I'll continue to Clam Jam.

    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.

     Outgoing? Check.Single? Check.Open to finding love? Check. I signed up immediately. A hopeless romantic with an exceedingly demanding schedule, I've found it impossible to find the man of my dreams—so Going in Blind seems too good to be true! That’s until they start setting me up on dates—three very different, very attractive, very distinct blind dates—and only one thing is for certain . . . I’m in big trouble. Good Morning Malibu,I'm Noely Clark, and I have a choice to make.The question is who will I choose; the suit, the rebel, or the jock.

    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.

    With her pride wounded and her tail tucked between her legs, she leaves New York and goes back to her tiny hometown of White Timber, Montana. No more twenty-four-hour taco trucks, no more shopping at the best designer stores within walking distance, no more giving taxi drivers the finger when they angrily honk at her. She didn’t think it could get any worse. But then Clint Hastings walked into the room and insulted her. Her arch nemesis from high school is no longer a nerdy computer whiz, masturbating to pictures in PC World magazine in his free time (allegedly). He’s grown up to be a hot-as-hell cowboy, and she has no other choice but to be a smart ass right back to him. After all, it’s what they do. It’s what they’ve always done, and twelve years apart hasn’t changed anything. Only this time, getting under each other’s skin is a hell of a lot more fun than it used to be.

    Russell has a bad reputation around our hospital. The scrub techs say he’s cold-blooded, the nurses say he’s too cocky for his own good, and the residents say he’s the best surgeon in the world—really, just a swell guy!—on the off chance he’s within earshot.I try to avoid him and his temper at all costs. It’s just as easy to admire his sexy, grip-it-while-he’s ravishing-you hair and chiseled jaw from a healthy distance, preferably from the other end of the hallway half-hidden behind a plant.Unfortunately, my plan crumbles when my trusty ol’ boss decides to swap his white coat for a Hawaiian shirt. His retirement leaves me with two terrible options: switch specialties and spend months retraining, or take an open position as Dr. Russell’s surgical assistant.That means I have to stand near him in the OR for hours on end and anticipate his every need without letting his biting words and bad attitude intimidate me. Oh, and as if that’s not difficult enough, my silly crush on him—the one I’ve tried to stomp on until it disappears—might just be reciprocated.It’s fine.I’m fine.I take my job seriously. There will be no smoldering bedroom eyes across the operating table, no angry almost-kisses in the storage closet. (Well, no more of those.)What’s the phrase? An apple a day keeps the doctor away?Maybe I should go for a whole damn bushel.

    Generally, the person in charge of these things shouldn’t fantasize about lighting the whole three-ring dating circus on fire.Anyway, men from all over Southern California, vying for the coveted bachelor role, submitted their personal ads to my paper. The readers voted, and Single Dad Seeks Juliet won by a landslide.Enter Mr. Bachelor Anonymous (40M), the single dad Romeo seeking his Juliet.Blah, blah, blah, right? Wrong.You guys—and I cannot stress this enough—this guy is the ultimate man in a six-foot-three, chiseled-muscle, freaking Adonis package with aquamarine eyes that would haunt the dreams of an insomniac.He’s a former Navy SEAL, successful business owner, motocross-riding, charming, supportive, funny-as-heck single dad, and the more time I spend with him, the more I want to bring this contest thing crumbling to the ground for an entirely different reason.Real talk: I think I’m falling for him.Me, the woman who despises love, might be falling for the completely off-limits Bachelor who I’m ironically assigned to help find love, while five other women think they’re the only contestants competing for his heart.So, Internet. Am I scum? Or is all fair in love and war?

    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.

    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.

    They never fight. They're preparing for their lavish wedding that's three months away. And she is miserably and utterly sick of him.Naomi wants out, but there's a catch: whoever ends the engagement will have to foot the nonrefundable wedding bill. When Naomi discovers that Nicholas, too, has been feigning contentment, the two of them go head-to-head in a battle of pranks, sabotage, and all-out emotional warfare.But with the countdown looming to the wedding that may or may not come to pass, Naomi finds her resolve slipping. Because now that they have nothing to lose, they're finally being themselves--and having fun with the last person they expect: each other.

    She’s travelled the world, and can categorically say that no one measures up to Tom Valeska, whose only flaw is that Darcy’s twin brother Jamie saw him first and claimed him forever as his best friend. Despite Darcy’s best efforts, Tom’s off limits and loyal to her brother, 99%. That’s the problem with finding her dream man at age eight and peaking in her photography career at age twenty—ever since, she’s had to learn to settle for good enough.When Darcy and Jamie inherit a tumble-down cottage from their grandmother, they’re left with strict instructions to bring it back to its former glory and sell the property. Darcy plans to be in an aisle seat halfway across the ocean as soon as the renovations start, but before she can cut and run, she finds a familiar face on her porch: house-flipper extraordinaire Tom’s arrived, he’s bearing power tools, and he’s single for the first time in almost a decade.Suddenly Darcy’s considering sticking around to make sure her twin doesn’t ruin the cottage’s inherent magic with his penchant for grey and chrome. She’s definitely not staying because of her new business partner’s tight t-shirts, or that perfect face that's inspiring her to pick up her camera again. Soon sparks are flying—and it’s not the faulty wiring. It turns out one percent of Tom’s heart might not be enough for Darcy anymore. This time around, she’s switching things up. She’s going to make Tom Valeska 99 percent hers.

    When my daughter wouldn’t stop wailing one night, Mr. Manwhore came knocking on my door. Miraculously, at the sound of his voice, Sunny stopped crying. And when he held her…she eventually fell asleep in his arms.Deacon was rough on the exterior, but apparently on the inside? Mr. Single-and-Ready-to-Mingle was a baby whisperer.After that night, we became friends.He’d go for coffee runs. Come over to chat. Normal friend stuff.But over time, our conversations ran deeper. We got closer.Until one night we crossed the line.Our friendship turned into a complicated mess.I’d gone and fallen for a guy who’d sworn off commitment and kids.I knew Deacon was starting to care for me too, even though Sunny and I didn’t fit into any plan he’d ever imagined for himself.He was wrong for me—so wrong that I’d dubbed him the “anti-boyfriend.”Then why did I wish more than anything that I could be the one woman to change him?

    MiaAlex Lawson might as well be the hottest book boyfriend imaginable. A fun, romantic, possessive, panty-melting man. And the best part? He’s real. For a girl like me—a slightly awkward book addict—Alex is a dream come true, straight off the pages of my favorite romance novels. But our story is turning into a whirlwind romance—the kind that only exists in books. And I wonder if we’re heading toward our own happily ever after, or if he’s too good to be true.Alex Here’s the thing. I’m not a bad guy. Lying to Mia wasn’t part of the plan. Finding success as a romance author using a female pen name wasn’t part of the plan either. But sometimes life takes unexpected turns. Like realizing the woman you’re falling for is your alter-ego’s online best friend. Online, she thinks I’m a woman named Lexi. In person, she knows I’m all man. I want to worship her body and claim every inch of her. But if she finds out the truth, I could lose everything.

    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.

    Cruz Costello is my archenemy.But that would require acknowledging one another, which we haven’t done in over a decade.He’s the town’s golden child. The beloved quarterback-turned-physician.I’m the girl who got knocked up at sixteen and now works at a diner.He is Fairhope royalty.I get my monarch dose from tabloid gossip.He’s well-off.I’m…well, off.When our siblings get engaged, Cruz’s parents invite both families to a pre-wedding cruise.Except Cruz and I find ourselves stuck on a different ship from everyone else.Cue ten horrible, insufferable days at sea with a man I cannot stand.(My fault, of course.)But when the alcohol pours in, the secrets spill out, and I’m left with one question:Can I take another chance on love?