Christmas cookies? She’ll take three dozen. Christmas movies? Yeah, she’s seen them all. So it’s no surprise when she’s put in charge of Loveridge & McGowan’s holiday festivities. Secret Santas? Yep. Ice skating? Of course. Holiday trivia? Duh. Christmas-themed bar crawl? That’s one big jingle bell hell yes.Kissing her boss at a Christmas tree lighting in front of his ex-girlfriend? Well… it is the season of giving. And Olivia does not come with a gift receipt. No exchanges. No returns. No refunds. All sales are final.In an effort to ungrinch the grinchiest man she’s ever met, Olivia enlists herself, Santa’s Executive Helper, to scheme up a plan that includes sleigh rides, snow days, and one too many mistletoe kisses, which certainly gets Asher’s tinsel in a tangle. She’s pretty sure that she sleighed this whole fake dating thing.Well… until she realizes there’s nothing fake about her feelings for Asher, and suddenly tangled tinsel, unsolicited Christmas trees, and celebrity heartthrobs are the least of her worries.

     When she's reunited with her crush at a Halloween Haunt event, scene queen Dahlia anticipates some flirting, maybe even some fun at the end of the night if she gets lucky. She never suspected that bad boy Rafael has even dirtier plans in store for her, spanning three spooky Halloween mazes that get her heart racing . . . and her panties wet. This extra steamy erotic short story is written in First Person POV and ends at just over 13k words. Contained within is some of the filthiest dirty talk you've ever read, spanking, sexy humiliation, and juicy detailed sex scenes. You're going to need some privacy for this story! Welcome to your dirtiest first date. WARNING! These are the fetishes within . . . use of the titles Daddy/little girl, heavy degradation, humiliation, rough sex, teasing, orgasm denial, spanking, struggling/restraint, bondage, pursuit/capture, light anal, light pissplay, light spitplay.

    That is, if she lasts that long. Because Logan Crenshaw, the creative force behind the company, doesn’t seem to want her there.Not being wanted is nothing new for Emma…but she doesn’t know what she’s done to make Logan stalk around the office, growling every command as if her very presence infuriates him. She can’t afford to lose this job, so her plan is to keep her head down and try to avoid any contact with him—no matter how big and sexy and unavoidable he is.But a Santa hat full of names, an office gift exchange, and one unexpected knock at her door are about to shake up all of her plans…Warning: This super-hot holiday romance contains Santa hats, red satin blindfolds, and an obsessed alpha male who talks dirty and knows exactly what to do with his big hands. Lots of swearing. No cheating, no cliffhangers.

    The blue-eyed man sitting next to me, even better. He was suave and intelligent. We talked and laughed, and something clicked. Fate took over and the plane was grounded, and we had an unexpected stopover for the night.With no plans, we made our own. We danced and laughed our way around Boston and had a night of crazy passion that no woman would ever forget. That was twelve months ago, and I haven’t heard from him—until today. I started a new job and met the CEO. You can imagine my surprise to see those naughty blue eyes dance with delight when he saw me across the mahogany desk. But I’m not that carefree girl anymore. My life has changed, I have responsibilities. I just got an email. He wants to see me in his office for a private meeting at 8:00 a.m. Naughty blue eyes have no place in the workplace. What kind of private meeting does he have in mind?

    His good girl. Broken down and wounded by my emotionally neglectful ex, I wanted someone to tell me I was good enough. Then, I stumbled into a new job with a boss who brings me to my knees—literally. He has me do things a real secretary would never do.Emerson Grant tells me I’m more than just good enough. I’m worthy of his praise.There are a million reasons why I should stay away. The owner of the Salacious Players’ Club is not just my new boss, he’s twice my age. And my ex-boyfriend’s father.With him, I am treasured. I am adored. I am his.I’m a good girl, but I’m falling for the wrong man. Emerson Grant knows what he wants—And he wants me.So how far will I go to hear his approval?

    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.

    Since he hired her to read audiobooks, listening to her is the only thing that makes his lonely world bearable. Thank God she's never seen him. His scars would only scare her away. Alex has starred in every fantasy Noelle's had since she first heard his voice over the phone, and reading erotica samples to him only fuels her desire. Listening to him on the other end of the phone is the best part of her day, and she's willing to do anything to please him. On Christmas Eve a storm comes through, sending Noelle in search of her reclusive boss. Once she's at his cabin with no place to go, there's only one way to keep warm. Warning: This is the sweetest, cheesiest, most Christmassy book ever! It's filled with late-night confessions, dirty deeds, and a lifetime of love. If you love this time of year, I've got some cheer for you!

    I didn't expect her to become my friend. I didn't expect to fall in love with her.The first rule of business is to never touch your employees. I think there is another rule about not falling for your best friend--a rule against imagining the curves of her body, or the way her breathing would change if I pulled down her panties and unzipped my pants.Now, I can't wait any longer. I'm tossing out the rules.Damn the company.Damn our friendship.Damn my fears.WARNING: This standalone is packed with sexual tension, insane chemistry, and enough surprises to keep you glued to its pages. May cause distraction from life and require a change of panties.

    Owner of the luxury hotel chain, and an undeniably beautiful but cold, hard man who is quick with demands, slow with apologies.And is my new boss.Worse? I think he’s toying with me. He enjoys watching me squirm beneath his penetrating gaze. He relishes in messing with my mind. He seems to know that my body betrays me when he’s near.And I’m beginning to think it’s only a matter of time before my job description expands to include tasks I can never talk about.Tempt Me is the first book in The Wolf Hotel series. Henry and Abbi's story continues with Break Me, Teach Me, and Surrender To Me.

     Christina Lee Dodd needs Friday off work. Needs. She's up to her eyeballs in problems. One of those problems is her boss, Bill Marshall. And Bill Marshall is an a**hole. The offer he makes is textbook inappropriate. An HR nightmare. But is it wrong for her to accept? Is it wrong for her to like it? Bass-Ackwards is a filthy wrong-way romance where two human beings make more mistakes than you can shake a stick at.

    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.

    When a lifeline appears in the form of a very unconventional job in neighboring Cambric Creek, she has no choice but to grab at it with both hands. Morning Glory Milking Farm offers full-time hours, full benefits, and generous pay with no experience needed . . . there’s only one catch. The clientele is Grade A certified prime beef, with the manly, meaty endowments to match. Milking minotaurs isn’t something Violet ever considered as a career option, but she’s determined to turn the opportunity into a reversal of fortune.When a stern, deep-voiced client begins to specially request her for his milking sessions, maintaining her professionalism and keeping him out of her dreams is easier said than done. Violet is resolved to make a dent in her student loans and afford name-brand orange juice, and a one-sided crush on an out-of-her-league minotaur is not a part of her plan—unless her feelings aren’t so one-sided after all.Morning Glory Milking Farm is a short human/monster romance novel, featuring a high heat slow burn with a lot of heart, and a guaranteed HEA. CWs include: cock milking, non-human anatomy, size difference, and a lot of fluid. It is the first book in the Cambric Creek monster romance series, and can be read as a standalone.

     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.

    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.

    Ever. Yeah, he's rich, beautiful, charming as hell, and he has a wit as sharp as a double-edged razor... but he's made it perfectly clear that this is a short-term fuck. Three nights, tops, then we part like sexually satisfied grown-ups. I believe him when he says he can't love me. I'm not trying to fall in love, either. We get in. Get it on. Get the hell out. Done. Right? Right.