When it comes to romance, I’m looking for something real, something that will last: the happily ever after. As a divorce attorney, he loves to tell me there’s no such thing. As a wedding planner, I choose to disagree. We disagree on almost everything, in fact. Everything except James Bond. The only time we really get along is when we’re watching 007 flicks together, and I’ll admit—he has rescued me from a disaster or five. So when one of the baton twirlers from his parade leaves a baby girl at his door with a note that says “I’ll come back for her” and he begs me for help, I can’t turn him down. But it’s a mistake. Because watching him with his daughter, I start to see another side of Nate, a side that has my breath coming faster, my body craving his, my heart longing for him to change his mind about love and tell me there’s a chance for us. I don’t want to be just another girl leaving his apartment in the morning. I want to be the one he asks to stay.

    A tornado stirring up trouble everywhere she goes. Her favorite pastimes? Drinking any man under the table and two-stepping. But she has zero interest in love. Scarlett’s only being neighborly when she claims her sexy next-door neighbor as her new pet project. Devlin is a man at rock bottom. Marriage, political career, five-year plan to Washington, D.C. All destroyed with one well-placed jab. The golden boy is now the black sheep relegated to Bootleg Springs, a tiny West Virginia town with two claims to fame: 1. Moonshine and 2. The cold case disappearance of a teen girl. Devlin just wants to lick his wounds. But Scarlett has other ideas for his tongue… and the rest of him. She’s determined to bring him back to life, even if getting him back on his feet means never seeing him again. But when an old mystery becomes new news, she’ll need his help to survive the scandal.

    And the answer is usually some bubbly, lovey dovey tale of being struck in the bum by Cupid’s arrow.My meet cute (well not so meet cute) is slightly different. I was trolling a wealthy neighborhood in Beverly Hills, searching for someone to take me as their bride, you know, to make my arch nemesis jealous who consequently just fired me.He was stomping around the block like some sort of gorgeous ogre, mumbling about a business deal gone wrong and attempting to finagle his way out of it.And that’s when we bumped into each other.There were no sparks.Not even a hint of blossoming love.But next thing I knew, I was scarfing down free chips and guac, listening to this man lay out all of his problems which led to his big ask . . . he wanted me to be his Vivian Ward, you know, from Pretty Woman--minus the frisky behavior.We’re talking about living in a mansion, intimate double dates, and pretending we were head over heels in love . . . and engaged. Can you imagine?The absolute audacity.But people do crazy things when they’re desperate. And I reeked of desperation. So, I struck up a deal.My one big mistake, though . . . big . . . HUGE? I accidentally fell for the incomparable Huxley Cane.

    RecklessWith her bridezilla friend on a DIY project rampage, bridesmaid Jane Denning will do anything to escape - even if it means babysitting the groom's troublemaker brother before the wedding. It should be a piece of cake, except the "cake" is a sarcastic former soldier who is 100% wicked hotness and absolutely off-limits. Cameron MacKinnon is ready to let loose after returning from his deployment. But first he'll have to sweet talk the ultra-responsible Jane into taking a walk on the wild side. Turns out, riling her up is the best time he's had in years. But what happens when the fun and games start to turn into something real?

    All she has to do is take some fashion-backward guy from geek to GQ-worthy. The only problem? The man in question is her hairy manwhore of a next-door neighbor. AKA Bigfoot.Zach Morrison has zero interest in being Gemma’s makeover mannequin. Sure, it’s fun getting his smart-mouthed neighbor all riled up, but after cashing out of his tech start-up and going through an ugly break-up, he’s taking a permanent vacation. If he wants to wear sweatpants and sleep on a mattress in the corner of an empty apartment—OK. Maybe he needs a little push in the right direction. But as Gemma races the clock to win her bet, she finds that Bigfoot’s been hiding a few things under his baggy flannel shirts. Like abs of steel, and a surprisingly big...Heart. He has a big heart.Soon, sparks are flying between this unlikely couple, but can Zach embrace a fresh start - however manscaped it might be? And will Gemma beat out her Instabitch rival for the top spot - and keep the truth about their bet from Zach?

    Being a romance novelist comes with its perks but when Ethan Rochester enters my life and interrupts my solo writing retreat, my world turns upside down.I write about guys like him for a living—sexy and charming, yet reluctant to get into a serious relationship. His body’s the ultimate temptation, but his condescending personality makes him a notorious heartbreaker.When we’re forced to be neighbors, he makes me forget my rules, and soon my upcoming deadline isn’t the only thing I’m dreading.*Can be read as a complete stand-alone! Formally titled Falling for the Bad Boy. Content has not changed.*

    Being roommates will be fun, he said. It's only temporary, he said.He never said I'd fall for him.You know what isn't 'temporary?' The endless stream of dirty socks in my bathroom and empty food packets under the sofa—and don't even get me started on the hot guys who take over my living room every Sunday to watch sports.I can't take anymore. So I propose a roommate agreement. One that will bring peace and order back to my life, complete with rules that might just stop my newfound crush on my best friend in its tracks.After all, there’s only so many times you can see your best friend naked before you start to lose your mind.Rules. They're meant to be broken... Aren't they?

    Little did she know she was about to add hundred and ninety pounds of swoonworthy abdominal muscles and arrogance to her life.Every day in Rians’s life follows a predictable pattern, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. She’s got a nice job, a nice place to live, and a nice family – even if they are a little wedding-zilla-ish at the moment.She doesn’t need anything spectacular to be happy. She just needs to get healthy – mentally, physically. . . and maybe spiritually if that happens. But she’ll settle for two out of three until her sister finally gets hitched.Carlos Davies thought his life was perfect. Little did he know it was about to be turned upside down by a woman who is not his type.In Carlos’s mind, his life is damn near perfect. He’s got a great job, a great place to live, and a great stash of pick up lines that always work. It has occurred to him that maybe no one actually takes him all that seriously. But with these bulging biceps and thick, dark hair, does that even matter since he’s never sleeping alone?Welcome to Weight Expectations, where great—and unexpected—things happen.

    Rules are involved. Prizes.Laugh it up, but I’m no loser. Enemy number one to my single status? My irresistible neighbor, Abbott Margolis. She with her evil cat Desdemona, and Sexy AF pencil skirts. She’s kind and beautiful and hilarious. We can’t get involved, no matter how much her meddling grandmother pushes us together. But if I was going to lose this bet for anyone? It would be for Abbott. Let’s face facts: I’m a bastard, unwilling to settle down. Especially when there’s a bet to win.

    I do not want to have a nude sleepover. I do not want to make you breakfast, lunch or dinner, no matter how many lap dances you promise to give me. I do not need you to serenade me through the walls at 1am. And no, I have no interest in letting you take me on a date. Sincerely, Magnolia Allen P.S. And no, I do not want to know how many accents you can growl in during intimate moments. How is that even a thing? P. P. S. Also, you will never find me standing naked in your living room ever again, so please stop leaving lingerie packages on my welcome mat.

    All he has to do is change everything about her. Perception creates reality and Clifford Rutledge needs the irascible stripper to prove it.Suzie Samuels is set to prove once and for all she’s more than Short Fuse Suze, stripper for the Black Demons and renowned motorcycle arsonist. If all it takes is hard work, then Suzie knows how to work it hard.But Suzie’s scandalous spirit tests Clifford's resolve. And Clifford’s buttoned-up bullying is driving Suzie bonkers.Can Clifford move past their differences long enough to pull off the impossible task of changing the bare lady into a fair lady?More importantly, as perceptions shift and priorities change, will he want to?'My Bare Lady' is a full-length contemporary romantic comedy, can be read as a standalone, and is book #1 in the Scorned Women's Society series, Green Valley World, Penny Reid Book Universe.

    Despite her new sunny locale, her plans go awry when she finds that she can’t quite outrun the past or bring herself to face an unknowable future. Every day of tropical bliss may be an invitation to disaster, but with her twin brother on her trail and a new relationship on the horizon, Libby is determined to forget about fate. Will she risk it all to live—and love—a little longer?From critically acclaimed author Camille Pagán comes a hilarious and hopeful story about a woman choosing between a “perfect” life and actually living.

    I'm eighteen and a young woman with endless possibilities on my way to reunite with my mom in Colorado after five years apart—she had a little weed incident in Nebraska.At the airport, she springs the news on me ... she's leaving for a month of job training. And me? I'm left on my own in the basement she's renting from the fisherman, aka her landlord who lives upstairs. He's ten years older than me. Never wears a shirt. And makes it hard to remember all the things I learned at Christian Academy. Did I mention he’s also my new boss?

    From the author of Where Good Girls Go to Die, comes a fun, passionate friends-to-lovers romance that readers say "took all of my insecurities, wants, thoughts, fantasies, and needs and brought them to life." -Beauty and the BooksGuys like Tucker Moore don't date girls like me.His boring ol' washboard abs look like they were sculpted by the gods, and I have more curves than a backroad in a country song.He can charm the panties off anyone, but I am better off hiding behind my camera lens.He's my next-door neighbor and the definition of a bad idea.I have no business thinking about him, and I should have pushed him out of my dreams the moment he showed up.I'd have been better off not tempting him into anything more when I should have been walking straight into the friend-zone.Which I do, faster than he can say "Just friends."It doesn't matter that he spends more time in my apartment than his or that he smiles at me in a way that makes my stomach flip.That's just Tucker.Before I know it, he's my best friend.And completely off-limits.A weekend away is our downfall, and I pack my bag so full, I can't fit my logic.Because Tucker would be fine.But I'd end up in Trouble with the Guy Next Door.

    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.