She isn't an executive, she isn't sexy, or otherwise noticeable, but the girl is cute - in a helpless, unique sort of way.He can't pretend to say she ever crosses his mind, though... Until the day he finds the manuscript she worked on during her lunch hour.Shy girls write it better is an adult romance with explicit content. Standalone novella ending on a happily for now note.

    Fresh on the heels of her college graduation, Cameron Heart has landed an interview at a prestigious architecture firm.Four minutes until the interview. She knows she’s only there because the owner, Grayson Cole, is her older sister’s friend.Three minutes. For the last seven years, Grayson has been the most intimidating man Cammie has ever had the pleasure, or displeasure, of being around.Two Minutes. But the job opportunity is too good to pass up. So, Cammie will have to ignore the fact that Grayson is handsome enough to have his own national holiday. One. After all, she shouldn’t feel that way about her new boss. And, he will be her new 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...

    He exercises shirtless in his office, is notorious for his lunchtime nooners, he even yawns sexily. If I didn't need this job so bad, I'd take his black Amex and tell him where to swipe it.He doesn't even know I exist, but why would he? He jets off to Paris with supermodels, I spend Friday nights with Netflix and a chunk of Pepperidge Farm frozen cake—waiting for his call. Because every time he crashes his yacht, or blows $500k on a single roulette spin in Monte Carlo, I’m the PR girl who has to clean up his mess.But this time, it’s going to take more than just a fat charity donation. This time, the whole company is on the line. He needs to show investors that he’s settling down, and Step #1 is pretending to date a nice, stable girl until people forget about what happened with the Playboy Bunnies backstage at the Oscars.My plan is perfect, except for one thing:He picks me.

    That is the reputation that precedes Richard VanRyan. He lives life the way he wants, no concern for the opinion of others. He cares for no one, is completely unrepentant, and he has no desire to change his ways.Katharine Elliott works under Richard as his PA. She despises him and his questionable ethics, but endures all the garbage he sends her way, because she needs the job. Her end goal is far more important than the daily abuse and demands she tolerates from her nasty tyrant of a boss.Until the day, he asks her for something she never expected. A new role with a personal contract — fiancée instead of PA.What happens when two people who loathe each other, have to live together and act as though they are madly in love?Sparks.That’s what happens.Can the power of love really change a person?Will they survive the contract?What do you do when the one person you hate the most becomes the one person you can’t live without?

    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?

     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 money doesn’t matter to him, but the company is his life. And then his eccentric mother wills it all to her tiny dog. I’m Vicky, the dog whisperer. (Not really, but that’s what my elderly neighbor always says.) When she dies, she surprises everybody by leaving a corporation worth billions to her dog, Smuckers. With me as his spokesperson. Suddenly I go from running my Etsy store to sitting in an elegant Wall Street boardroom with Smuckers in my lap. And my neighbor’s son, Henry Locke, aka New York’s most eligible bachelor, glaring across the table at me. Rumor has it Henry’s a business genius who’s as talented in the bedroom as he is in the boardroom. Sure, he’s gorgeous. Sex-in-a-seven-thousand dollar suit. But…He’s arrogant and infuriating. He refuses to listen to me when I insist I didn’t con his mother. He thinks he can bully me, buy me off, control me, even seduce me. Henry may have the women of Manhattan eating out of the palm of his hand, but I'm so over entitled rich guys who think they own the world. No way will his wicked smile be charming ME out of my panties. His wicked...devastating...impossible-to-resist smile. Oh well, who needs panties anyway? ****************A sexy enemies-to-lovers romantic comedy standalone!*Formerly entitled Most Eligible Bastard*

    Point is, she cost me my two best friends ten years ago. It’s payback time, and I’m going to make her life hell.When I’m not banging her silly and myself stupid.I need to get my head back in business, because getting off is great, but "He was a man who had sex, and lots of it, and in the worst locations, with the woman of his nightmares" isn’t the inscription I want on my tombstone.Even if it’s true.AmbrosiaThere are three things I hate:Bratwurst in any form, my neighbors boinking loudly like farm animals at 3 AM, and Chase Jett.Mostly I hate Chase Jett. It’s been ten years since he took my virginity—I’d make a bratwurst joke, but the unfortunate truth is that it would have to be a bratbest joke, and yes, it kills me to admit it—and now he’s not only a billionaire, he’s also my new boss.Turns out our hate is mutual. And this kind of hate is horrifically twisted, filthy, and banging hot.I just might have to hate him forever.MISTER McHOTTIE is 45,000 gloriously hilarious, hot, sexy words that your mother warned you about, complete with an organic happy-ever-after (or seven), a Bratwurst Wagon, ill-advised office pranks, and no cheating or cliffhangers.

    Ever since, Alexa has worked to turn her life in a different direction and forge her own identity outside of his terrible secrets. But when she meets a man who’s as damaged by her father’s mistakes as she is, Alexa must help him.Caine Carraway wants nothing to do with Alexa’s efforts at redemption, but it’s not so easy to push her away. Determined to make her hate him, he brings her to the edge of her patience and waits for her to walk away. But his actions only draw them together and, despite the odds, they begin an intense and explosive affair.Only Caine knows he can never be the white knight that Alexa has always longed for. And when they're on the precipice of danger, he finds he’ll do anything to protect either one of them from being hurt again…

     Some women just have it — that combination of stunning looks and sexual confidence that brings men to their knees.Not me. My last boyfriend once fell asleep while we were … you know. Not my proudest moment.And my crush on my hot, arrogant, and oh-so-unattainable CEO? Never going to happen.But one night, after too much wine, I find myself online, creating a profile for a sex kitten called SweetVixen. Safe behind my computer screen, I’m suddenly the seductive goddess of my wildest imagination. Next thing I know, I’ve spent a month sharing every filthy fantasy I’ve ever had with a man I know only as Mister Bigshot. A man who can make my toes curl with just a few keystrokes. A man who brings new meaning to the eggplant emoji. A man who now wants to meet in person. Dressed in my rarely-used little black dress and heels higher than my expectations, I gather my courage and cross the restaurant toward the stranger who’s been teasing me mercilessly all month. But then I come to a dead stop. Right in the middle of the restaurant. Frozen in place like a deer in the candlelight.Because the man sitting there waiting on me is no stranger.The man I’ve bared everything to — and I do mean everything — is none other than my hot, arrogant, and oh-so-unattainable CEO.Mister Bigshot is … my boss. And trust me, there’s no emoji for the look he's giving me right now ...

    You're the proper single mum with a good head on your shoulders. I'm just the carefree British doctor passing through town and temporarily living in your converted garage until I head back to England.But here's the thing... for some bloody reason, I can't stop thinking about you in very inappropriate ways.I want you.The only reason I'm even admitting all of this to you right now is because I don't believe it's one-sided. I notice your eyes when you look at me, too. And as crass as I appear when we're joking around about sex, my attraction to you is not a joke.So, what's the purpose of this note? I guess it's a reminder that we're adults, that sex is healthy and natural, and that you can find me just through the door past the kitchen. More specifically, it's to let you know that I'm leaving said door cracked open from now on in case you'd like to visit me in the middle of the night sometime.No questions asked.Think about it.Or don't.Whatever you choose.It's doubtful I'll even end up sliding this letter under your door anyway.--Simon

    Location: Cubicles outside Canon’s office.Co-workers: Betting on how long Canon’s new PA will last.Me: No doubts. Ms. Gum-smacker won’t last the day. I need to place my bet.Manolo Blahnik’s New Fall Shoes: Mine. As soon as Madeline hands over my winnings. Emma Baker has never spoken a word to Alaric Canon, nor has he to her. But she’s studied him every day across the office tundra for almost a year. Canon is hard and fierce, terrifying and beautiful. He’s also the most stern, unforgiving person Emma has ever seen. Emma’s co-workers run a betting pool for Personal Assistant terminations. There’s a separate pot for the day one leaves without crying. Not likely…Canon made a former Navy SEAL cry. He has high standards and low tolerance. Everyone knows it. Everyone stays away. Everyone who can, that is. Except Emma. She can’t look away. Alaric Canon is the single most attractive man she’s ever seen. Bar none. Canon has never noticed her. Not once in almost a year. She’s not even a blip on his radar. But she will be. His radar will be blipless no more. It is a goal. Emma has a plan.

    He is also the author of all my deepest, most secret fantasies. And to make matters worse, he needs me to impersonate “Natalie” at a series of book signings and conventions. But, of course, that’s only if I want to keep my job. On second thought, I’m going to need something heavier than an ashtray.

    That's pretty much where my bio ends. Honestly, I don't need to say anything else. I've just sold 99% of women on going home with me. Do I sound like a jerk to you? That's because I am. And guess what? It works for me just fine. Or at least it did. Until I met her. Books talk about sparks flying. Screw that. With her, it was like emergency flares mixed with jet fuel. Or maybe just straight up napalm. Only one problem. She wouldn't tell me her name or her number when she disappeared from the hotel room after the hottest night of my life. Now I've had a taste of the perfect woman and I need it again. So what's a jerk to do? I took this problem to the street. A missed connection gone viral. And when I find her? I'm keeping her.