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.

    The Romantic Style Book convention was meant to be a weekend of raucous fun with friends, sun, and enough poolside margaritas to forget about my ex. But now, instead of meeting my fans and signing books, I'm stuck with cocky divorce lawyer Nate Wexler. He's arrogant, infuriating, and I can't keep my hands off of him. Judging by the state of our hotel room, last night was wild. I just wish I could remember it.A pair of matching tattoos. A half empty box of glow-in-the-dark Trojans. And a... wedding veil?What the hell just happened?Discover the hot and hilarious world of the LUCKY IN LOVE series from Lila Monroe!1. Get Lucky2. Bet Me3. Lovestruck4. Mr Right-Now5. Perfect Match6. Christmas with the Billionaire"I laughed my ass off. Let me know if you find it. I wish I'd written this book."-- Kayti McGee"I've NEVER had SO MUCH FUN while reading a book! This was insanely good"-- Shayna's Spicy Reads"Get Lucky is an enchanting, steamy, delightful read I never wanted to end" -- Angie's Dreamy Reads"One of the funniest, light hearted, free spirited novels I have ever read... An absolute joy to read." - Bloggers From Down Under"This.Book.Is.SOOOO.Funny! What is the best way to describe it? It's like a cross between The Hangover and...a steamy romance novel...hahaha. SO SO steamy. I'm surprised my kindle didn't start smoking. But more importantly, it was funny and endearing." -- Micah Liesel's Book Blog

    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.

    Not that I'm interested in him in that way. Attorneys can't go around sleeping with their clients. Not even if he is the most beautiful man I've ever met and so ridiculously smart he makes my nerdy-girl heart sigh.Besides, he has too much on the line to risk taking a chance on the insane chemistry building between us. We both do.I've always followed the rules. Too bad he makes me want to break each and every one of them.All About the D is a romantic comedy and a full-length standalone. Due to adult situations and sexual content, it's recommended for readers over the age of 18.

     This was a VERY EASY decision to make, as the past two years have been utterly miserable. I wish his next executive assistant all the luck in the world (she'll need it) and if my boss should need me to do anything over the next two weeks, kindly tell him that he can do it [his] goddamn self... Sincerely (Not Really), Tara Lauren That’s the version of my two weeks’ notice I should’ve sent to my boss, because the more professional version - the one where I said I was "grateful for all the opportunities," and "honored by all the rewarding experiences" over the years? That letter was rejected with his sexy, trademark smirk and an “I highly suggest you read the fine print of your contract...” So, I did. And now I've realized that unless I fake my death, poison him, or find a way to renegotiate my impossible contract, I’m stuck working under one of the cockiest and most ruthless bosses in New York. Then again, I thought that was the case until he called me late last night with an emergency proposition... **This is a standalone contemporary romance.**

    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.

    And one thing the sweet Southern belle knows for sure is that the foundation of wedded bliss is built on similarities: opposites might attract, but they don’t stay together. Enter Mason Spark.Rude, arrogant, and notoriously allergic to monogamy, the hottest quarterback in the NFL is Maddie’s polar opposite. He’s also her new client. Her gorgeous, infuriating new client who’s paying her an outrageous sum of money to find him a wife. With his multi-million dollar contract on the line due to his behavior on and off the field, bad boy Mason is willing to pretend to settle down. But when he starts to fall for the adorkable matchmaker who can’t stand him, the playboy finds himself in the game of his life to keep something he never thought he’d lose—his heart.

    So when a super hot guy boards the plane and flashes his rock hard abs, I pay attention. When he sits next to me and offers me his nuts, I can’t resist. But when I choke on them and he tells me I need to work on my gag reflex, I realize I might be in over my head. Before I know it we’re in the lavatory and attempting to join the Mile High Club. Let me just say this...anyone who tells you it’s easy to get it on at 37,000 feet isn’t telling you the truth. After the flight attendant busts us for getting frisky in the air, the only thing that can ease my total and complete mortification is the simple fact that I am never going to see him again. Hours later, I can’t help but wonder if fate will ever allow me to become a new version of myself. Because Fate, she’s a fickle bitch. Case in point...my seatmate is my new next-door neighbor. Even with the whole fate thing we have going on, we are so not meant to be together. He’s all cool and sexy in that make love not war kind of way. Guys like him are dangerous. With that bring-you-to-your-knees body, that handsome-as-hell face, and that dirty, dirty mouth, I guarantee one glance from him wets every girl's bikini bottoms. And then there’s me…the quirky girl looking to find herself in California. All I want to do is learn to let loose. Say words like peace and groovy. Bury my toes in the sand. Who knows, maybe even have sex on the beach. Unable to get him out of my head, I entertain the thought of being more than just friends. I know the idea is absurd. And yet, I go with it. You see Camden Waters gets me. Really gets me. Like no other guy has before.On this 7-mile stretch of paradise, I decide to keep things simple and just have fun...that is until fate decides to screw with me, again. Can two people hell-bent on finding themselves realize the search should have ended the day they met? Find out in No Pants Required—a sexy, funny, romantic stand-alone, that will have you hurrying to grab your bathing suit and rushing to the beach to check out every lifeguard on duty. ***Want more of the men of Laguna? You can find Keen in Bedwrecker and Brooklyn in Hollywood Prince. These books can be read as stand-alones or as a series.

    She also has no filter.”“He’s no southern gentlemen.”“I had one last season to prove my worth.”“I’d never seen a game.”“He told me he was a player.”“She told me she was a lesbian.”“But you fell in love with me anyway.”“Yeah, baby, I totally did.”

    Okay, so I’d had a bad day and took it out on a bystander in a pizza shop. But there’s nothing innocent about Ally Morales. She proves that her first day of her new job… in my office… after being hired by my mother.So maybe her colorful, annoying, inexplicably alluring personality brightens up the magazine’s offices that have felt like a prison for the past year. Maybe I like that she argues with me in front of the editorial staff. And maybe my after-hours fantasies are haunted by those brown eyes and that sharp tongue.But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to be the next Russo man to take advantage of his position. I might be a second-generation asshole, but I am not my father.She’s working herself to death at half a dozen dead-end jobs for some secret reason she doesn’t feel like sharing with me. And I’m going to fix it all. Don’t accuse me of caring. She’s nothing more than a puzzle to be solved. If I can get her to quit, I can finally peel away all those layers. Then I can go back to salvaging the family name and forget all about the dancing, beer-slinging brunette.AllyHa. Hold my beer, Grumpy Grump Face.Author’s Note: A steamy, swoony workplace romantic comedy with a grumpy boss hero determined to save the day and a plucky heroine who is starting to wonder if there might actually be a beating heart just beneath her boss’s sexy vests.

    He’s absolutely devastated. He swears. Just ignore his cheeky grin, okay?When word reaches his fancy corner office that Gallum is replacing himself with his daughter, Amity, Carver is ecstatic. For real this time. Jones squashes men in the business industry flat. A woman? Pfst. He’ll be completely in charge in no time, doing whatever he wants. He’s so ready for this. But is he ready to fight the hardest fight of his life? No, not the one to maintain control of his company. The one to keep control of his heart.The battle may begin in the boardroom, but the war will definitely be won in the bedroom. May the best sex win.

    Multiple Oh-Oh-Oh as her client—and hell, how is she supposed to pitch a marketing plan when she can remember how easily he briefed her g-spot on an orgasm… or five?West Rykman has one rule: you don’t mix business with pleasure. They can look, but unless they’re shoving a dollar inside his pants, they can’t touch. He learned that lesson the hard way two years ago.He had no idea the flame-haired vixen with a penchant for hot, kinky sex and a mouth that would make a hooker cry would be the one to bend—and break—his rule.She’s sworn off men after ten too many heartbreaks.He’s determined he’ll never lose it all for a woman again.She’s pretty screwed.He’s really screwed.And not in the we’re-not-sleeping-tonight way…

    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.

    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.

    Seriously. The guy is like a potassium addict. Of course, I touched it. If you want to get technical, I actually put it in my mouth. I chewed it up, too... I even swallowed.I know. Bad, bad, girl.Then I saw him, and believe it or not, choking on a guy's banana does not make the best first impression. I should backtrack a little here. Before I ever touched a billionaire’s banana, I got my first real assignment as a business reporter. This wasn’t the same old bottom-of-the-barrel assignment I always got. I wasn’t going to interview a garbage man about his favorite routes or write a piece on how picking up dog poop from people’s yards is the next big thing. Nope. None of the above, thank you very much.This was my big break. My chance to prove I wasn’t a bumbling, clumsy, accident-prone walking disaster. I was infiltrating Galleon Enterprises to follow up on suspicions of corruption. Cue the James Bond music.I could do this. All I had to do was land the position as an intern and nail my interview with Bruce Chamberson.Forget the fact that he looked like somebody carved him out of liquid female desire, then sprinkled on some "makes men question their sexuality" for good measure. I needed to make this work. No accidents. No disasters. No clumsiness. All I needed to do was hold it together for less than an hour.Fast forward to the conference room before the interview, and that's where you would find me with a banana in my hand. A banana that literally had his name on it in big, black sharpie. It was a few seconds later when he walked in and caught me yellow-handed. A few seconds after that was when he hired me. Yeah. I know. It didn't seem like a good sign to me, either.