They aren’t supposed to be with someone like him.But after a crazy Vegas weekend celebrating her college graduation—and terrified of the future path she knows is a cop-out—Mia Holland makes the wildest decision of her life: follow Ansel Guillaume—her sweet, filthy fling—to France for the summer and just…play.When feelings begin to develop behind the provocative roles they take on, and their temporary masquerade adventures begin to feel real, Mia will have to decide if she belongs in the life she left because it was all wrong, or in the strange new one that seems worlds away.

    I fired off a storm of raunchy text messages…to the wrong number. And he replied. Him: Show me a picture. Him: Tell me your name. Why does the lure of anonymity have me craving to indulge a stranger? It’s the start of everything right. I received a slew of text messages…when everything in my life was wrong. And she made me laugh again. Her: You’re probably a creeper. Her: Possibly a stalker. Why do I have the overwhelming need to find this stranger who saved me and make her mine? Him: Take a chance with me. Her: This is crazy. Him: I need to see you. Her: What are we doing? Him: We’re about to find out. Her: PHOTO ATTACHED Him: PHOTO ATTACHED

    I’m pregnant with another man’s baby. What a time to fall in love… Coming home seemed like a good idea at the time. My ex-fiancé split, I was almost done with my master’s degree, and I was already working at the family architecture firm. When I move in next door to pediatrician Ryder Mackay, I’m not expecting the connection—or the passion in his eyes that I feel deep in my soul. He’s the best doctor for my baby, but he’s not the guy I need. Still, the way Ryder looks snuggling my puppy—and my infant daughter—to his rock-hard chest makes me wish this sexy, smart, compassionate man was mine. Maybe, it’s pregnancy hormones. Or...maybe this magnetic pull is forever.

    He’s seen and done it all, but he’s never forgotten what—or rather, who—inspired him in the first place. Nearly twenty years later, the young singer who’d touched his very soul is still in his thoughts. In every song he writes. And she has no idea, because she disappeared from the music scene before he ever had a chance to tell her.When he and his band fly to LA to lay down some new tracks, he feels an instant and unnerving connection to the woman handling their upcoming tour. She’s beautiful, business-savvy, and oddly familiar. Unfortunately, she’s also proving frustratingly impervious to his charms.Eva D’Agolino’s job is to make people famous, and she’s damn good at it – probably because she was once part of the rock and roll life herself. These days, she prefers working behind the curtain instead of center stage. The cruel lessons she learned firsthand make it easy to keep things strictly professional, even around sexy, confident rock gods who don’t like to be told no.Well, most of the time, anyway. When Eva’s personal life begins to crumble, Jace is there to pick up the pieces. Denying him completely proves impossible, especially when he’s so good at giving her exactly what she needs. But she’s no fool. She’s already been down that road and knows how the song ends.Can Jace convince Eva he’s more than just the rock star she unknowingly created, and that theirs is truly a love song for the ages?Rockstar Romeo by USA Today Bestselling author Abbie Zanders is a standalone contemporary rock star romance written in Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s Cocky Hero world. If you like sexy rock stars, second chances, and the kind of love that inspires chart-breaking power ballads, you’re going to love Jace and Eva’s story!

    And since the last three weeks of my life have been riddled with humbug—another breakup, a broken toe, an office promotion I deserved and didn’t get—I’m not at all in the mood to celebrate nor have the happ, happ, happiest Christmas EVER.When Mom insisted that we all gather at my Grandparent’s ancient cabin for an old school family Christmas, I fully intended to get into the holiday spirit with the help of the three wise men, Johnnie Walker, Jack Daniels, and Jim Beam. But those boys did absolutely nothing to offset the shock or temper the sting of seeing my EX on our doorstep the first day of our holiday soiree.Apparently, Santa missed the memo, and this elf is pissed.Stuck for a week with the man who obliterated my heart nearly two decades ago, I did the only thing I could do and put on my game face, thankful for the home advantage.I knew better than to drink that last cup of eggnog.I knew better than to get tongue tangled beneath the mistletoe with the only man to ever break my heart.I knew better than to sleep with Satan’s wingman on the eve of the Lord’s birthday.I could blame the nog. I could blame the deceitful light blue eyes, thick, angelic hair, and panty evaporating smirk…but mostly, I blame Eli because he always knew exactly which of my buttons to push.I foolishly thought a family Christmas filled with nostalgia was going to turn my inner Scrooge around, but this year’s festivities went up in flames. Leave it to the ghost of my Christmas past to be the one to light the match.Fa la la la la, la FML.

    on Wednesdays.Oh, and I might have stalked him in the dining hall, too. Turned out he ate a lot of grilled cheese.And thanks to my big mouth, the paper I work for now expects me to do a story on him because he's not granting interviews. Not even to Anderson Cooper.But surely he'll meet me since we went to college together? Right?Logical assumption. Except that he doesn't know me from a hole in the wall.But I wasn't about to blow my chance with the paper. Writing obituaries for three years at one of the country's top newspapers was not my idea of a fulfilling career, especially since the money I'd borrowed for my Ivy League education could buy a small country. I wanted more--I wanted to report on real news. I wanted to prove myself, and even work in the face of danger. A girl's got to have dreams.All I needed was a break. No question, I was getting an interview with Talbot Richardson if it was the last thing I did. If I had to beg, borrow, steal, or... even take my panties off.

    I didn’t know he was back from Kuwait. When I came home from my position as an overseas correspondent, I’d expected I’d never see him again. And that was the way I’d wanted things to be. After all, I couldn’t let him know about my daughter. Our daughter. I couldn’t help my feelings for him, though. I’d always been drawn to him. But he had never wanted children. I had to respect that. But he wasn’t the same man I’d met in Kuwait, and I wasn’t the same woman either. I knew sooner or later he would find out my secret and sh*t would hit the fan.

    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.

    Suit monkey, commitment-phobic serial dater. No more than three dates, unless he hasn't ... you know. Emmy:What a disaster! I only just made my flight to New York to help my uncle, and the phone I’m holding is not mine! It seems to belong to some commitment-phobic serial dater who’s never made it past four dates (according to the constant notifications he's getting from his fake dating profile...) And worse? I have a sinking feeling it’s that hot suit-monkey with the arctic grey eyes I just had a run-in with at the airport. Somehow I have to persuade him not to get a new phone until I get back. My whole life is on that phone. It’s only a few days. Surely we can handle it. Trystan :This is a joke, right? My life could not get more f*cked up. I’m in the middle of selling my company and on my way to a funeral and that hot mess hippie-chick stole my freaking phone. I’m not sure how she convinced me not to immediately walk into a smart phone store and get a new one, but now she’s going to have to play stand in and distract me while I deal with my long-avoided and estranged family. I don’t have my dating apps after all, and frankly she’s pretty funny. And sexy. And why can’t I stop texting her? And now we’re talking. And … look, I’ll admit that I usually run for the hills the morning after, but the morning after phone sex? That’s not really real, right?

    He has to. He’s a sheriff’s deputy in a super small town with a super big personality. However, strict adherence to the law during the day has been enjoyably balanced by rakish rules at night. Jackson, typically happy to protect and serve (and serve, and serve), starts questioning the value of wayward evenings when getting laid starts to feel more like being waylaid. Could it be that Green Valley’s most eligible—and notorious—bachelor longs for something (and someone) real?Mega movie star Raquel Ezra follows only one rule: always leave them wanting more. Studio execs, reporters, audiences, fans, lovers—no one can get enough of the smart, savvy, and sexy bombshell. But when “generous offers” begin to feel more like excessive demands, years of always leaving has the elusive starlet longing for something (and perhaps someone) lasting.When Raquel abruptly returns to the quirky Tennessee hamlet, her path crosses with the delectable deputy with whom she spent one unforgettable night. Unfortunately, scandal and intrigue soon follow. Raquel and Jackson must decide which is more important: following their rules? Or, at long last, finding something real.TOTALLY FOLKED is a standalone, contemporary romantic comedy novel and book #1 in the Good Folk: Modern Folktales series.

    That the vows you made to each other were simply empty promises.You pick up and move to the country to start fresh. When life hands you limes, you make sure you have tequila because your life is about to get stirred up.JensenMarried to my high school sweetheart, the best thing she gave me was my baby girl. But we weren't enough for her. I wasn't enough for her. The last thing I expected on my birthday was a Dear John letter, but that’s what I got when she upped and left. Now, it's just me and my girl against the world till the new girl moves in next door. Is there such a thing as a perfect love story?

    I can't give you any more advice on landing this other guy, can't tell you another "sexy" thing that you should do, or suggest a new set of filthy words that you should text him late at night.As your best friend, I've reached my limit, and I can honestly say that he doesn't deserve you. I'm not saying all of this because I'm f-cking jealous, or because he had the audacity to say that he makes more money than me. (I still can't find his name on the Forbes 500 list, and I know damn well that he's renting that Ferrari, but that's a story for a different day.)He's not who you think he is, and the better man has always been right in front of you...You have every reason to never give me a chance since you know me better than anyone, and you agree with all the tabloids calling me "The Cocky King of New York," and the "Untamed Playboy of Manhattan." But I honestly believe that you're better off with someone else, and I need you to see.I'm not asking for too much...I just want you to break up with him, for me.

    With her window of opportunity shrinking fast, a miracle happens. She wins an audition with Bernard Bexley, Broadway’s most respected dance choreographer. When disaster strikes and Reese misses the audition, she has to find another way in front of Bernard, otherwise face the disappointment back home. Following the sage advice of a Times Square Pikachu—Reese seeks out Bernard’s son, prepared to beg for his aid, never expecting mega sparks to fly between her and the gentle giant baker. With Reese’s heart now involved, she refuses to use Leo to her advantage and tries to walk away before her ulterior motives are exposed, but gravity continues to draw them back together…until it’s impossible to stay apart. But Reese’s lie of omission can only stay buried for so long. When Leo finds out how their relationship started, will Reese keep her ultimate role as Leo’s leading lady? Or will the curtain fall on their real-life fairytale?

    I met him at sixteen, the hot new guy sitting on my jetty, an aspiring artist just passing through. He was my first kiss and my first love. I wanted forever with him. I didn’t even get a year.Five years later, I’m a budding writer who scripts stories of love and struggle, the good and the bad and the ups and the downs. He’s a star on the rise; his wicked talent and crazy good looks have his face plastered on countless magazines. We move in two different worlds and still our paths cross again. We’re older and wiser and as crazy about each other as we had been as teenagers.My medium is words and my imagination is limitless, but not even I could have written the incredible journey we traveled to our happily-ever-after. Life isn't like fiction, and the greatest love stories don’t follow a script.

    Scott, comes a new book that will introduce you to rock stars with heart and soul as well as revisit with some favorites from The Resistance. One break is all The Crow Brothers need and we’re about to get it. Johnny Outlaw, rock legend and lead singer of The Resistance, is here to watch us play. But he’s not the only familiar face in the crowd—killer little body, heart-shaped face, and drop-dead gorgeous. Hannah Nichols sitting at the bar makes it hard to concentrate, sparks already reigniting. The beauty was never a groupie and tonight she’s not here to catch our show. She came to drop a bomb. “You have a son.” She underestimated me. I’ll prove to my son, and her, that I can be the dad he needs. What is it about musicians? Why are they so damn sexy? My heart was Jet Crow’s the moment he opened his sexy mouth and sang that first song. One stolen night with that man would never be enough, but I’m not here to fall into his bed. Again. I’m here to fight for custody of a son he’s never known. There’s just one problem. Those sparks between us have become flames. If we’re not careful we’re both going to get burned.