Easy. Wear designer clothing and sip champagne? Don’t mind if I do. Flirting with Grant? It’s so delicious I should be paying him. Nothing can go wrong as long as I can keep my hands off of him. But that’s the hard part. And I do mean hard. Because Grant is sexy. And bossy. And surprisingly sweet, a real rarity in his pretentious family. Oops. I’m not as good at faking it as I thought. Or maybe they call this method acting. Because it’s getting harder to figure out where my character ends and I begin… It just might be the role of a lifetime. Weekend Wife is a standalone romantic comedy with a sexy billionaire, a sassy heroine, and a Happily Ever After.

    After all, the sexy and charming Mateo is everything she's ever wanted—and more. But she needs to protect herself—and her heart—before it’s shattered once and for all. Mateo has no choice but to let her go. His woman needs space, and he loves her enough to give it to her—no matter how much he hates it. The only thing keeping him sane is the certainty that their separation will be short-lived.Ava thinks it’s over, but she’s about to find out that Mateo will stop at nothing to turn her “I Don’t” into an “I Do.”

    Thank God, in six weeks, I’ll be eighteen and free!Except, a certain stupid sweater in my backpack—okay, okay! I didn’t actually pay for it—lands me at court. And, look at that…my mother is back, too.I want to keel over dead when the judge sentences me to time in France with her. Actually, I take that back, I want her to keel over dead! And then somebody says she has cancer. Wow, I’ve never had a wish fulfilled this fast. But until that happens—or I turn eighteen, whichever comes first—I’m required to work in some unknown family’s vineyards. Yeah, right…France, however, holds another surprise for me. Julian.He doesn’t miss a chance to provoke me, and for some reason he seems to foresee each step of my brilliant escape plan. What the hell—?But then he makes a tiny mistake. And suddenly, I’m confronted with a secret that makes my blood run cold.

    Probably not in retrospect. In my defense I had just moved back into my grandparent’s house, I’d lost my dream job, and a guy on Tinder had stood me up. It was like life had suddenly stamped ‘LOSER’ on my forehead. So when the guy behind the bar started giving me THE look…you know, the one that promised I’d be screaming his name into the wee hours of the morning? When that guy also has the perfect amount of scruff on his chiseled chin, biceps bulging out of his t-shirt, and a cocky grin you knew he’d earned in the sack…when he gives you that look, you don’t bother to figure out what your six degrees of separation are. You jump on that horse and ride it! Pun fully and completely intended. And accurate by the way. I fully admit to feeling sorry for myself and acting impulsively, but by the time I’d figured out WHO the bartender was, I was already falling for him.

    But with another job lost and the gorgeous father of her daughter trying to make contact after disappearing three years ago, a break is definitely in order. Hopefully the little town filled with big, juicy secrets can help.After being off the grid for years, Josh Granger, a man with his own secrets, wants Meg and his daughter back. But first he has to get past townspeople as protective as a pack of rottweilers. He’s not the man Meg thinks he is, but he can’t tell her why…not yet.As Meg slowly warms to Josh, it’s clear the old spark is still there. But when his secret is exposed—along with Meg’s own shocking revelation—will it tear their family apart again, or bind them forever?

    And her plan is to keep her head down and to work hard until she can retire. Never mind that she doesn't know what she'll do once she retires– at least she won't be working for the man anymore. Because even though he's a gorgeous man, he's still her boss and he likes to push her buttons.Ethan Howell O'Connor's charmed life comes to a screeching halt after his latest ex-girlfriend starts a fashionable trend in talking to the tabloids. Now all of Ethan's old girlfriends are talking to the press, ruining his reputation, and wiping that charming smile right off his face. The only person that can brighten his black mood is the same person who can annoy him to kingdom come. He and Mackenzie have feuded since the day she was hired, but now Ethan's starting to realize: maybe those sparks were hiding a blazing fire.Mackenzie's about to find out that sometimes a gorgeous man can come up with a plan all his own, and it's a given that it'll mess hers up.

    Her plan: hire an investigator; find an attorney; enlist the help of her new assistant, Ruby; and make her husband pay.Ruby knows how quickly everything changes. After a dicey past, she’s determined to forge a new future by working for Cricket and reinventing herself as a designer, deconstructing vintage haute couture. If anybody can help mend a few tears in Cricket’s life, she can.But turns out Cricket’s life isn’t just a little torn. It’s wrinkled, stained, and falling apart at the seams. With Ruby and her ragtag relatives—a soused PI and a hunky tow truck driver—Cricket is sleuthing her way to the truth, no matter how dangerous it gets.Sure, Cricket’s life isn’t what she imagined. But she’s embracing change and figuring out what she really wants. And that’s kind of fabulous.

    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.

    1 bestselling author Robert Bryndza.Coco Pinchard has just turned forty, and is feeling fabulous. Her long-held dream to be a writer has been realised, with the publication of her debut novel, her son, Rosencrantz, is attending a prestigious London drama school, and her musician husband, Daniel, seems more in love with her than ever. Coco feels poised to enter an exciting new chapter in life.When the New Year dawns after a hideous Christmas spent with her awful in-laws, Coco catches Daniel in bed with a younger woman, her novel flops, and Rosencrantz goes spectacularly off the rails.As her once-happy life unravels, and any chance of an exciting new chapter recedes into the distance, Coco's new iPhone becomes her confessional.Through emails to loyal friends Christopher, a neurotic middle-aged socialite, and Marika, a slightly alcoholic schoolteacher, Coco begins to document her seemingly endless (and often hilarious) run of bad luck.When Coco reaches the top of the local allotment list (after putting her name down nineteen years previously) she meets the drop-dead gorgeous Adam, and she's back in the world of dating as a single forty-something. Read the emails that tell the hilarious, feel-good tale of Coco picking up the pieces!Fans of rom coms by Sophie Kinsella will be glued to the pages of this totally addictive page-turner.

      Worn out from the long drive back home, Jayne Morgan can only smirk at the irony: Of course the first person she sees from her old life is Nick Scott. Once best friends, they lost touch when Jayne left town at eighteen, but nothing could keep them apart forever. Jayne has returned to take over her grandmother’s bookstore, determined to put all her bittersweet memories and secret disappointments strictly in the past — until, that is, Nick insists she bunk at his place.   Nick never did care what people thought about having a girl for a best friend — or the “scandal” she caused by showing up to his wife’s funeral four years earlier — so he’s got no problem with the gossips now. Jayne was always the one person he could count on in his life. Now Nick is starting to realize that he never wants her to leave again... and that being “just friends” isn’t going to be enough anymore.  Includes a special message from the editor, as well as an excerpt from another Loveswept title.

    Check.A heart of gold and a smile that turns me stupid? Double check.My father is the new football coach and he’s made it clear that he doesn’t want me dating anyone on the team. So, I’ll just keep my head down and focus on my theater degree. Easy enough, right?Wrong.Enter, Junior Morgan. Exit, my panties. But I don’t want to be just another notch in his bedpost. If Junior wants me as badly as his bulge tells me he does, then he’s gonna have to earn me. Win a game. Win a night with me.Game on, quarterback. We’re just getting started.A handsome playboy. The coach’s forbidden daughter.College football’s Most Valuable Player has met his match! The Bad Baller Books: Bump and Run (Junior and Eliza’s story)Go Deep (John and Rose’s story)Home Run Baby (Hunter and Daisy’s story)This title was originally published as Whiplash.

    She hasn't laid eyes on her great aunt Abigail since she was eight, so she’s stumped when she inherits Abgail's house in the small hamlet of Alpine Grove.Kat's uncomplicated life gets decidedly less so when she discovers the inheritance comes with some hairy conditions: four dogs and five cats that her aunt wanted her to love as her own. Of course, the house smells like a barn--with a touch of antique skunk--and, naturally, has serious roof issues. And that's before the three-legged cat gets stuck in the wall and the shower goes kablooey.When Kat meets Joel, an unemployed techie type with no love lost for his sister, Kat looks past his obvious flaws, given his timely and desirable skill set: a talent for fixing things (and his own tools).Despite out-of-control dogs, cat fights, dust dinosaurs, massive spiders and an old grizzled hippie passed out in the yard, Kat discovers the tranquility of the forests of Alpine Grove starting to seep into her soul.And why she can't she stop thinking about Joel?

    While entertaining at the popular L.A. strip club known for catering to the feminine wild, the fever-inducing Aussie with the sex-saturated accent and moves to match is preparing for the audition of a lifetime on the sensational hit reality show Then Prove You Can Dance. When retired principal dancer and ballerina Emilie Cartier stumbles into his dressing room, she’s still reeling from the one wrong spin that altered her entire life and obliterated her dreams. After a humiliating public, albeit meteoric, orgasm—the kind so desperate to escape, it took over her body without her brain's permission—and a second, more intimate and deliriously deliberate one, Emilie makes a deal with Stone: he helps her get her dancing mojo back and she readies him for his national audition. But she insists he keeps his wily, wandering hands to himself and his dirty mouth shut. Of course, that’s going to be an extremely hard challenge—one of herculean proportions. Emilie is not prepared for Stone—the way he spins her mind dizzy, rocks her body into sweet oblivion or dirty dances into her every daydream—and falling in love with him is so definitely not an option. The closer Stone gets to Emilie, the more he realizes he’d do anything to make her his own. Problem is, he’s a real f*ck-up with relationships. And that means he’s dangerously close to becoming her next major f*ck-up. What happens when all of the emotional layers—along with the stage props, their dancewear and every last shred of their clothes—are ultimately stripped?

    At the age of twenty-nine-plus-one, I am at the top of my game...professionally.My personal life is a completely different story, one best left untold. Success has its sacrifices and I've been more than happy to put my search for Prince Charming on the back burner while I create fictitious tales of the naïve virgin, the broken girl with a torrid past, and the strong-willed student finding their own Mr. Right...Until one hell of a case of writer's block and a tight deadline set by my publisher forces me to go in search of inspiration.Armed with an account on every dating website out there, I devise a plan. Meet some nice, professional men. Go on a few dates. Hope one of them has the spark I need to finish my book. Then walk away.But plans are meant to be broken.My name is Molly Brinks, and this is my story about Writing Mr. Right.

    When she has to fill a delicate, embarrassing prescription the last thing she needs is a sexy-as-hell (and brand spanking new) pharmacist behind the counter. Johnson Fitzwell’s first day of his dream career also happens to coincide with the exact moment Dove needs her feminine meds filled. His glorious voice is way too loud–as in, he should be counting down the hits with Ryan Seacrest kind of loud. Thanks to Johnson’s handsome face and gorgeous jaw line, Dove dives headlong into her waking nightmare and asks for a vagina-scented cream. How could she not fall for him? Dove's only active goal now is to get Johnson to kiss her right on the lips. Either set. However, his horrible girlfriend is one of many obstacles preventing her from making that fantasy a reality. When Dove defends Johnson in the most unhygienic, unconventionally gross way in the middle of a crowded restaurant, their tender, slightly tantric relationship is off to a galloping, farting start. Each print copy of this book will be dipped in holy water by my mom, and glared at by my father as he purses his lips. Neither will help. So, drop your pants and turn to the left and cough. I hope you're not allergic to latex, because it’s time to fill your prescription. Anally.