A 24-year-old law student at Tulane, Beau was as mysterious to me as second base (both in baseball and in the bedroom). He was older. Intimidating. Hot. Boys my age had chicken legs and chubby cheeks. Beau had calloused hands and a jaw cut from steel. Our interactions were scarce—mostly involving slight stalking on my end—and yet deep down, I desperately hoped he saw me as more of a potential lover than a lovesick loser.Turns out, I was fooling myself. My fragile ego learned that lesson the hard way.Now, ten years later, we’re both back in New Orleans, and guess who suddenly can’t take his eyes off little ol’ me.My old friend, Mr. Fortier.But things have changed. I’m older now—poised and confident. My ego wears a bulletproof vest. The butterflies that once filled my stomach have all perished.When I was a teenager, Beau warned me to guard my heart.Let’s hope he knows how to guard his.

    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.

    After countless mishaps, mistakes, and unmitigated disasters on the dating scene, she’s decided to give up and move on with her life…solo.Everything changes, however, after Fawn runs into Levi Fremont, a homicide detective new to New York City.Dedication to the job has rendered Levi’s love life nonexistent—until he moves in next door to the free-spirited Fawn. After a series of comedic run-ins push them together, will they finally give in to the inevitable and realize—maybe—they are perfect for each other?

    If I took time to explain, Declan Moss would get hit by a bus.Let me back up. I didn’t ask for this. I was perfectly happy—and perfectly sane—before I was tasked with keeping Declan Moss alive. It was a thankless job until the moment that my panties dropped and his delicious smirk found his way in between my thighs.Hello, toe-curling ecstasy. Goodbye, professional boundaries. And suddenly, there’s a new danger to avoid: the falling of my heart.

    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.

     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.

    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.

    He also knew she wanted nothing to do with romance, and for very good reasons. So what did he do? He was the best friend she needed for five long years.The day Joss comes to tell her best friend that she’s ready for love—with another guy—it’s like a punch to his … well, you know.How does he show her that the real love of her life isn’t the random guy who bought her a pickle cupcake at the bakery? Well … he needs to wage war--one touch, one moment at time. Joss isn’t the only stubborn one in their friendship, and he’ll prove that the man for her has been right in front of her the whole time.

    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.

    How long it took to fall asleep: Forever. I have insomnia. Duh. Number of caffeinated beverages you had consumed: Zero. Thanks for advising me to quit! My stress level is off the charts. I can’t sleep right on a normal day, and lately my days are filled with the best kind of chaos. My ex-wife and husband number two are filming in Poland for three months, so I’m turning down movie parts to focus on the most important role of my life— impossibly charming and somewhat capable young single dad. My son won’t stop asking questions. My daughter won’t brush her teeth unless I sing her showtunes. Our regular nanny quit. The only person I could trust to hire as a temp nanny is my best friend’s sister. If Mary Poppins and Bill Murray had a baby it would be Willa. Fresh out of grad school and beautifully weird. She hates my movies, and my kids adore her. I couldn’t sleep last night because she wasn’t here. Turns out I can’t sleep unless she’s in my house now. Turns out she’s what’s been missing from my life all along. If my friend had any idea what I want to do to his gorgeous troublemaker of a sister, he would smother me with a pillow. The chances of us succeeding as a couple are about as good as that little indie movie that I made being a huge hit. But it’s a chance I’m going to take. * This is a 71,000 word novel

    You’re ready to leave after a one-night stand, and you’re figuring out how to—shock horror—leave your number and ask him to be your fake boyfriend for your sister’s wedding this weekend. When he wakes up. Well, that happened to me. And over coffee and omelets, I found myself a date. Which was how I ended up arriving at the wedding with a guy I knew nothing about. I didn’t know his last name, or how we met, or how long we’d been dating. I didn’t know where he grew up, what he’d majored in in college, or how many siblings he had. I sure as hell didn’t know he was Adam Winters, hotshot hockey player—and not only my father’s favorite player, but my little nephew’s freakin’ idol. Which means I’m in trouble. Big, big trouble. My mother is suspicious, my sister is bridezilla on crack, and my grandpa will tell anyone who’ll listen about his time in Amsterdam’s Red Light District. Four days. I have to keep this up for four days, and then Adam and I can return to our regular lives, where we don’t have sex whenever we’re alone and my family aren’t interrogating him over his intentions with me. At least, that’s the plan. And we all know what happens to those.

    What Amanda Newland wants is to graduate at the top of her class, as well as finally finish her novel and prove to her family that writing is a respectful career.What Blake and Amanda don’t want is to be paired up with each other for their final project, but that’s exactly what they both get when they’re forced to collaborate on a writing piece. Since Amanda thinks Blake is a pushy asshole (with a panty-melting smirk and British accent) and Blake thinks Amanda has a stick up her ass (though it’s a brilliant ass), they fight tooth and nail until they discover they write well together. They also may find each other really attractive, but that’s neither here nor there.When their writing project turns out to be a success, the two of them decide to start up a secret partnership using a pen name, infiltrating the self-publishing market in the lucrative genre of erotica. Naturally, with so much heat and passion between the pages, it’s not long before their dirty words become a dirty reality. Sure, they still fight a lot, but at least there’s make-up sex now.But even as they start to fall hard for each other, will their burgeoning relationship survive if their scandalous secret is exposed? Or are happily-ever-afters just a work of fiction?

    Keeping my growing feelings tucked away should be a piece of cake. Except, seeing him every day definitely throws a wrench in that plan.Before I know it, we’re trading favors for dates, and as much I don’t want to admit it, the feelings for him I thought were dead and buried are taking root and growing into something that looks a lot like love. Daigle Family Funeral Services… don’t be caught dead any place else.

    Sexy Stranger is more appealing. And when he speaks—in that British accent—it’s a done deal. Every American woman has a hot British guy fantasy. Well, most do. I haven't taken a poll or anything, but I’m pretty sure it’s a fact.  Except… You know that saying about best-laid plans? Good, because I don’t either, but I assume they go awry.Like my one night stand…