Mine is the worst. The worst, hidden in a six foot tall package of male perfection. It’d be easier if he looked like an old Scrooge, wouldn’t it? Nick Saint-Croix doesn’t look like an old scrooge. He’s hot as-Um, never mind. Just bring me a new boss. Please. Sincerely,Holly Winter

    Me too.And yet, here we are. This isn’t even the most unprofessional thing that’s happened between us in the past couple of weeks.The first was when I agreed to let her have Christmas Day off, but only if she goes with me to three family gatherings as my fake girlfriend.The second was when she caught me belting out a Christmas song on stage in the awful hotel bar.The third was the hot, drunk, angry sex that followed, but I do not regret it.And she hasn’t even found out the real reason I need her by my side this holiday season.I need to pull it together before I do the dumbest, most unprofessional thing of all—fall head over heels in love with the only assistant who’s lasted more than a month at the job and claims to hate me and my moods more than she hates eggnog. And I’ve seen how much she hates eggnog.

    The infuriating man forwards them along with his annoying commentary and unsolicited advice. At least she never has to see him in person since they work in different locations…until they come face to face at the office holiday party. As luck would have it, Kennedy turns out to be gorgeous…though still a jerk. Yet somehow he’s able to charm her out on the dance floor—and convince her to participate in his crazy scheme: He’ll go home with Riley for a Christmas party and pretend to be her boyfriend if Riley agrees to be his date to a wedding. It sounds easy enough. But little by little, the act they’re putting on starts to feel like so much more than a Christmas pact—and Riley’s about to learn there’s more to Kennedy than she ever imagined.

    Three margaritas, two shots, and one beer—because it was free.I think it’s important to be open and honest with your co-workers, don’t you?So here I am, being honest. Drunk but honest. Or just drunk with lust? You decide.I like you so much it’s clouding my judgment and making me do things I never would sober. Like write this letter.I have a hopeless, foolish, schoolgirl crush on you when you are the last person on earth I should be falling for. Did you know people around the office call you a sadist? An egomaniac. An insensitive, arrogant prick. Your bark is worse then your bite, and you don’t scare me. The fact is, I’d love that bite of yours to nip at my bare skin while we’re both wearing nothing but sheets.For once I want you to look at me as more than one of your employees. And as long as we're being honest, that navy blue suit you wear? With the crisp white shirt? It really makes me want to loosen your tie and show you who’s boss. Love,Sincerely,Yours.

     With a handsy aunt, a meddling mother and a father concerned for the wellbeing of his daughter's eggnog, there's no chance Sam and Noel will have time to fall in love...or will they? **The Stocking Was Hung is a full-length, standalone Christmas novel that will make you laugh, make you HOT and maybe even make you say, "Awwwww" a few times.

    She loves them. She’s full of festive cheer. He’s brimming with Bah, Humbugs. Besides unreasonably seasonable names, the only thing Jonathan Frost and Gabriella Di Natale have in common is a healthy dose of mutual contempt. Well, that and the same place of employment at the city’s most beloved independent bookstore, Bailey’s Bookshop. But when the store’s owners confess its dire financial state, Jonathan and Gabby discover another unfortunate commonality: the imminent threat of unemployment.With the Baileys’ requests to minimize expenses, win new customers, and make record sales dancing in their heads, Jonathan and Gabby conclude—barring a financial Christmas miracle—one of them will soon be cut from the payroll. Neither are willing to step down from their position, so they strike a bargain: whoever has more sales in December gets to stay on in the new year; the loser will resign. With a lifetime's worth of festive tricks up her sleeve, Gabby should easily outsell her nemesis, except the unreadable Mr. Frost’s every move seems purely designed to throw her off her game.As if that wasn’t bad enough, Gabby's deceptive ex won't quit pursuing her, and her anonymous online friend suggests they take a break. Worst of all, as the pressure mounts to save the bookshop and her job, Gabby meets a new, tender side of Jonathan. Is this the same man she's called her cold-hearted enemy?Maybe he’s got a motive she just can’t figure out—or maybe Jonathan Frost isn’t as chilly as she once thought. Maybe Jonathan and Gabby already know—and love—each other in ways they never thought possible.This is an #OwnVoices story for its portrayal of autism by an autistic author.

    His lips are as sculpted as David. And his ego is the size of the Guggenheim.You know the type—wolfish smile and the gravity of a black hole. The kind of man who sucks all the air from the room the second he enters it. My cocky boss thinks this internship was wasted on me, and he doesn’t hesitate to let me know.But he’s wrong, and I’m going to prove it to him. If I can stay away from his devil lips, that is. Lips that cut me down and kiss me in the same breath, leaving me certain he’s on a mission to ruin my life.And maybe my heart.*A brand new STANDALONE romantic comedy full of steam, laughs, and heart by bestselling author Staci Hart*

    Two weeks before Christmas and all through Manhattan, shop windows are decorated in red and green satin.I'm standing alone in front of the famous Vivant department store, when a charming man named Aiden asks my opinion of the décor.It's a tragedy in tinsel, I say, unable to lie.He asks for a better idea with a twinkle in his eye.Did I know he owned the place? No. He put me on the spot.Now I'm working for that man, trying to ignore that he's hot.But as a down on her luck girl with a difficult past, I know an opportunity when I see one—and I have to make it last.I'll put my heart and soul into dressing his holiday windows.I'll work without stopping. And when we lose the battle with temptation, I'll try and remember I'm just window shopping.

     I keep my two worlds separate. At work, I’m King of Wall Street. The heaviest hitters in Manhattan come to me to make money. They do whatever I say because I’m always right. I’m shrewd. Exacting. Some say ruthless. At home, I’m a single dad trying to keep his fourteen year old daughter a kid for as long as possible. If my daughter does what I say, somewhere there’s a snowball surviving in hell. And nothing I say is ever right. When Harper Jayne starts as a junior researcher at my firm, the barriers between my worlds begin to dissolve. She’s the most infuriating woman I’ve ever worked with. I don’t like the way she bends over the photocopier—it makes my mouth water. I hate the way she’s so eager to do a good job—it makes my dick twitch. And I can’t stand the way she wears her hair up exposing her long neck. It makes me want to strip her naked, bend her over my desk and trail my tongue all over her body. If my two worlds are going to collide, Harper Jayne will have to learn that I don't just rule the boardroom. I’m in charge of the bedroom, too. The King of Wall Street is a sexy, stand alone, contemporary romance.

    Say no more. I throw on baggy clothes, tuck my long hair under a baseball hat, and apply for a job. Unfortunately, my half-baked idea of disguising myself as a guy is flawed from the beginning. As Shakira says, these hips don’t lie. Still, I like to think I might have pulled the whole thing off save for one thing: I know my boss. Last month, we met at a bar, and after a fiery first encounter, it seems we’re destined to be sworn enemies. Ethan Stone is ruthless and arrogant, a man I never would have crossed had I known how much he likes to toy with his prey. He should just fire me and be done with it. Instead, he decides to make me his personal slave. Oh right, I think they’re calling it personal “assistant” these days. It’s torture, all of it—his bad attitude, his ruggedly chiseled face, his desire to grind me into dust. Every one of our friction-filled battles burns hotter than the last. A girl can only hold out for so long. Soon, I’m bound to go up in flames. My objective? Survive the heat long enough to send home a paycheck.My real objective? Stop having X-rated fantasies about my coldhearted boss.

    After the final rude message she wrote in my yearbook, I decided that we didn't need to see each other anymore. (But if we ever did, I would show her exactly why I had every reason to be "cocky," and make her admit that I really *was* "that damn sexy.")Now that it's ten years later, I've graduated from law school at the top of my class, and I'm being recruited to work at the number one law firm in New York City.Since I'm in desperate need of a change and want to meet new people, I don't hesitate to accept the offer.Until I find out that Courtney Ryan graduated from law school, too.Until I realize that she'll be working at the same exact firm, in the office right across from me.And if this timing isn't unfortunate enough, she's far more tempting and sexier than I originally remembered.(Oh, and last night I found out that she lives right next door...)We don't have to be close.We don't have to be best friends.But she's going to pay me back for making us enemies all over again...

    I know we had to get engaged as part of our companies’ merger plans, but a fake engagement is all I’ll agree to. For business purposes. We are never, ever getting married.We have nothing in common. I’m the nerdy do-gooder girl with glasses and you’re the playboy with a new woman on his arm every week. I’m not your type, and you’re not mine.Okay, so you’re incredibly gorgeous. And funny. And you keep giving me That Look. And you’ve ditched all your other girlfriends for me. And I’ve seen you in nothing but your boxer shorts, and I’m still thinking about it. Because…wow.We have to be married by midnight Christmas Eve, and the deadline is getting closer. It doesn’t matter if you might be my dream guy. It doesn’t matter if I’m falling for you—it’s just a business deal.We are never, ever—Oh God, I just kissed you again.

    No festival means no tourism dollars. A disaster of epic proportions for his hometown.But when home renovation expert slash smoking hot reality TV star Catalina King shows up with a camera crew and a budget big enough to put the town back together again, Noah balks. Hard. The last time Cat was in town she stirred up trouble everywhere she went. (Residents are still talking about the town's first and only bar fight.) Noah doesn't need a TV diva capitalizing on his town's tragedy or filling his daughter's head with glitz and glam.Cat is ready and willing to put Merry back in Christmas mode with a holiday special that will leave everyone believing in miracles and get her friends back in the home they love. But there's one big problem standing in her way. And his name is Noah Yates. He's wrong about her and she can't wait to prove it. Ring those jingle bells because it's on.

     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.

     It’s just a docuseries about your career as an OB/GYN, they said. It won’t interrupt your life during or after filming, they said. It is a great opportunity for the hospital and your practice, they said. Well, they—the television executives who seem intent on ruining my career and personal life with a fair number of creative liberties—lied. Now I’m stuck dealing with the consequences of believing them. Instead of being known as Dr. Will Cummings, Head of Obstetrics and Gynecology at St. Luke’s Hospital, I’m now being called Dr. Obscene. What devotion I’d hoped to earn in respect, I’ve instead received in patients flashing me seductive smiles and flirtatious winks during their exams. How’s a guy supposed to convince the most perfect woman he’s ever met that he’s not as much of an idiot in real life as he appears to be on camera? With all of the show’s side effects taking root like parasites, it’s going to take a lot to persuade Melody Marco to be anything more than my new nurse. But I can’t get her out of my head. I want her. Good thing I’ve never been one to back away from a challenge… Get ready, Melody. The doctor is in.