When she has to fill a delicate, embarrassing prescription the last thing she needs is a sexy-as-hell (and brand spanking new) pharmacist behind the counter. Johnson Fitzwell’s first day of his dream career also happens to coincide with the exact moment Dove needs her feminine meds filled. His glorious voice is way too loud–as in, he should be counting down the hits with Ryan Seacrest kind of loud. Thanks to Johnson’s handsome face and gorgeous jaw line, Dove dives headlong into her waking nightmare and asks for a vagina-scented cream. How could she not fall for him? Dove's only active goal now is to get Johnson to kiss her right on the lips. Either set. However, his horrible girlfriend is one of many obstacles preventing her from making that fantasy a reality. When Dove defends Johnson in the most unhygienic, unconventionally gross way in the middle of a crowded restaurant, their tender, slightly tantric relationship is off to a galloping, farting start. Each print copy of this book will be dipped in holy water by my mom, and glared at by my father as he purses his lips. Neither will help. So, drop your pants and turn to the left and cough. I hope you're not allergic to latex, because it’s time to fill your prescription. Anally.

    I’m a virgin attempting to write a romance novel and I'm having an impossible time trying to write a passionate and swoon-worthy love scene worthy of being published, thanks to my lack of experience. My two best friends encourage me to drop the pen, step outside my comfort zone, and gain some real life experience through multiple dating facets such as blind dates, online profiles, and random hookups. But losing my "flower" is proving to be much tougher than expected… This is the story of my awkward, humiliating, and slightly terrifying life, but like all romance novels, I know it will end in a happily ever after. At least that's what I keep telling myself. **WARNING: READ IN THE CONFINES OF YOUR OWN HOME DUE TO RANDOM OUTBURSTS OF LAUGHTER. IF YOU ARE ADDICTED TO CLIFFHANGERS, GETTING YOUR HEART RIPPED OUT OF YOUR CHEST AND FEELING LIKE A BULLDOZER JUST PLOWED THROUGH YOUR STOMACH, THEN THIS BOOK IS NOT FOR YOU. IF YOU LIKE PEEING YOUR PANTS AND CRYING FROM LAUGHING SO HARD, THEN PLEASE CONTINUE READING.

    That’s not me. Nope, quite the opposite. I’ve been hired—well, blackmailed is more like it—to be a bad influence on grumpy, gorgeous, humor-deprived billionaire Elliott Bradford. He’s just become the public face of his family’s company, Bradford Amusement Parks. Problem: The board is about to kick him to the curb because they think Elliott wouldn’t recognize fun if it bit him in the as… spiration.And they’re not wrong. I can’t believe I have to spend the next three months trying to coax a smile out of Jerk-in-a-Box. But if I fail, my secret shenanigans will be brought to light and my parents will pay the price. Again.So here I am, getting stuck on top of a midnight roller coaster ride with him… and letting him kiss my panic attack away. Signing us up for a mud run… and letting him wash the mud out of my hair in the shower… Yes, I’m that dedicated to my job.But the more I get to know broody Elliott, the more I think there might actually be a beating heart hiding underneath that navy double-breasted jacket. And the closer I get to the end of my assignment, the more I want to be the girl who can make him smile for real.

    The man is wicked hot.He’s also my roommate, and since I work nights and he’s at class all day – it’s like living alone at half the rent.Then an unexpected night off turns into an unexpected morning in Marc’s bed, but it turns out we can't even figure out the screwing. This is not great news for Marc who’s going on a “bangcation” at the end of the summer – a whole month in France that he’s planned to spend getting busy with the women of Paris. It’s also not great news for me for obvious reasons.With both of us needing work on our skills, there’s only one logical solution to our predicament. Told you I was screwed.

    Scones? Child’s play. Cupcakes? I’ll frost them so good you won’t know what hit you. Donuts? Please.You’re talking to a master baker.But there’s one egg I’ve never been able to crack.My best friend.Correction: My former best friend.She’s the apple in my pie. The whip in my cream. The lemon in my meringue. The wish in my bone.She’s the one who got away.After ten years in the military, she’s back. She’s bruised and battered by life, but she’s back.Except she’s not my second chance. She’s gone to the dark side.Running a rival bakery in a town not big enough for two.So now I have to decide—which do I want more?My bakery?Or the woman I never should’ve let go of in the first place?Master Baker is a deliciously fun friends-to-enemies-to-lovers romantic comedy featuring a smooth-talking baker, the one who got away, and a goat with more matchmaking tendencies than a nosy old grandpa. It stands alone with no cheating or cliffhangers.

    There was something about her that most people didn't know. "My name is Kat Berger, and I love porn."When twenty-five-year-old Kat is dragged to a porn convention by her best friend, she's both embarrassed and nervous. The last thing she ever expected was to meet someone who makes her laugh like no other. This is a story about acceptance and friendship, and a love born out of the most unexpected of places.

    Most days, I’m poolside in a pleated skirt, dishing out margaritas to tycoons and titans. It’s not exactly my dream job, but it does come with one perk…James Ashwood.He’s my silver lining in a custom black suit.Besides being a legacy member at the club, he’s a tech mogul and Austin’s most eligible bachelor. Oh, and those dimples? Yeah, they make my stomach dip too.On good days, I catch his sleek Porsche winding down the tree-lined drive. On better days, I steal a glimpse of his handsome profile as we pass in the hall. And on the absolute best day, I find him alone at the bar, looking for company.“Come have a seat.”Those four little words set me down a path I never could have imagined. Private planes, penthouse suites, and temptations around every corner make it impossible to keep my distance. His world feels decadent and wild—but overindulgence comes with a cost. Every kiss comes with strings. Every erotic encounter is a promise I’m not ready to keep.When I pump the brakes, he hits the gas. James doesn’t want to go slow—he wants a commitment. And the thing about the fortunate ones?They’re used to getting what they want.

    Of course it did. I’m a professional fluffer. It’s NOT what you think. I stage homes for a living. Real estate agents love me, and my work stands on its own merits. Sigh. Get your mind out of the gutter. Go ahead. Laugh. I’ll wait. See? That’s the problem. My career has used the term “fluffer” for decades. I didn’t even know there was a more… lascivious definition of the term. Until it was too late. The ad for a “professional fluffer” on Craigslist seemed like divine intervention. My last unemployment check was in the bank. I was desperate. Rent was due. The ad said cash paid at the end of the day. The perfect job! Staging homes means showing your best angle. The same principle applies in making a certain kind of movie. Turns out a “fluffer” doesn’t arrange decorative pillows on a couch. They arrange other soft, round-ish objects. The job isn’t hard. Er, I mean, it is — it’s about being hard. Or, well… helping other people to be hard. Oh, man… And that’s the other problem. A man. No, not one of the stars on the movie set. Will Lotham – my high school crush. The owner of the house where we’re filming. Illegally. In a vacation rental. By the time the cops show up, what I thought was just a great house staging gig turned into a nightmare involving pictures of me with an undressed star, Will rescuing me from an arrest, and a humiliating lesson in my own naivete. My job turned out to be so much harder than I expected. But you know what’s easier than I ever imagined? Having all my dreams come true.

    Her sister has sent out an SOS, but when May gets there, she’s nowhere to be found and May is the one in trouble—she’s wearing pink espadrilles, she’s got a Chihuahua in her purse, and she’s in the middle of a shootout.After tall, muscular Ozzie comes to her rescue, May has no choice but to follow him to safety. At the headquarters of his private security firm, the Bourbon Street Boys, she finds a refuge for the night—and the offer of a job. But it’s not long before a gun-toting stalker isn’t the only complication in May’s life: the more time she spends with Ozzie, the less she can deny that they’ve got some serious chemistry. A wrong number got her into this mess…Will it also get her the right guy?

    One hot boss. One too many hot encounters... It’s not you. It’s me. No, seriously. It is me. Not only does my name literally mean “unfortunate,” but that’s the story of my life. Everything I touch turns to crap. An apartment fire—that I swear I was not responsible for—means I’m living back at home with my sex-mad parents. Yay, me! Which is why I need my new job as personal assistant to Cameron Reid to get back on my feet. Three months in this job and I can move back out and, hopefully, remember to turn off my flat iron once in a while. Ahem. On paper, my job is easy. Make coffee. Book appointments. Keep everything in order. Until I walk in on my boss, half-naked, wearing nothing but the kind of tiny white towel that dreams are made of. Now, nothing is easy—except our mutual attraction. But he’s my boss, and you know what they say about mixing work and pleasure: unless you do p*rn, it’s just not worth it. Or is it?

    Maybe it’s the day-to-day grind. Maybe it’s that client who never knows what they want, or the guy who always cooks fish in the microwave.But not me. I love every corner of the Longbourne Flower Shop, every flower, every petal, every stem. I love the greenhouse, and I love Mrs. Bennet, my boss. I love creating, and I love being a florist. I don’t hate anything at all.Except for Luke Bennet.The Bennet brothers have come home to help their mom save the flower shop, and Luke is at the helm. His smile tells a tale of lust, loose and easy. He moves with the grace of a predator, feral and wild. A thing unbridled, without rules or constraint. When he comes home to save Longbourne, I almost can’t be mad at him. Almost.He doesn’t remember that night I’ll never forget. That kiss, touched with whiskey and fire. It branded me like a red-hot iron. But it meant nothing to him.Everyone hates part of their job, and I hate Luke Bennet.Because if I don’t, I’ll fall in love with him.

    She doesn't even spend that much time online. And even if she did, she would not be looking up personal ads. But going home alone for her family's summer reunion is an invitation for every single relative to butt into her personal life. She simply can't handle another blind date with the butcher, the baker or the candlestick maker from her hometown. So when she finds the Craigslist ad for a boyfriend-for-hire, she's ready to pay to play. Heading Home and Need a Buffer? I'm the REAL DEAL. Theo Banks has been running from the past for years. He's this close to finally settling all his debts, and one more job as a boyfriend-for-hire will do the trick. He's no gigolo. Please. He's something of an actor, and he knows how to slip into any role, including pretending to be April's new beau -- the bad boy with the heart of gold.Even if it means sleeping in close quarters in that tiny little bed in her parents' inn. Even if it means spinning tales of a romance that starts to feel all too true. What neither one of them counts on is that amid the egg toss, the arm wrestling, and a fierce game of Lawn Twister that has them tangled up together, they might be feeling the real deal.She only wanted to show her family once and for all that she had no need to settle down.He didn't expect to have the time of his life at her parent's home.They didn't plan on loving every single second of the game.But can a masterful game of pretend result in true love?

    He may be a pro-football defensive end for the Chicago Squalls, but the press only wants to talk about how he's always a groomsman and never a groom. Rex is sick of being the guy before the husband, and he’s most definitely sick of being the best man at all their weddings.Bartender Abigail McNerny is the gal-pal, the wing-woman, the she-BFF. She's dated. Once. And once was more than enough. Privy to all the sad stories of her customers, ‘contentment over commitment’ is her motto, and Abby is convinced no one on earth could ever entice her into a romantic relationship . . . except that one guy she’s loved since preschool.The guy who just walked into her bar.The guy who doesn’t recognize her.The guy who is drunk and needs a ride home.The guy who has a proposition she should definitely refuse.

    She’s travelled the world, and can categorically say that no one measures up to Tom Valeska, whose only flaw is that Darcy’s twin brother Jamie saw him first and claimed him forever as his best friend. Despite Darcy’s best efforts, Tom’s off limits and loyal to her brother, 99%. That’s the problem with finding her dream man at age eight and peaking in her photography career at age twenty—ever since, she’s had to learn to settle for good enough.When Darcy and Jamie inherit a tumble-down cottage from their grandmother, they’re left with strict instructions to bring it back to its former glory and sell the property. Darcy plans to be in an aisle seat halfway across the ocean as soon as the renovations start, but before she can cut and run, she finds a familiar face on her porch: house-flipper extraordinaire Tom’s arrived, he’s bearing power tools, and he’s single for the first time in almost a decade.Suddenly Darcy’s considering sticking around to make sure her twin doesn’t ruin the cottage’s inherent magic with his penchant for grey and chrome. She’s definitely not staying because of her new business partner’s tight t-shirts, or that perfect face that's inspiring her to pick up her camera again. Soon sparks are flying—and it’s not the faulty wiring. It turns out one percent of Tom’s heart might not be enough for Darcy anymore. This time around, she’s switching things up. She’s going to make Tom Valeska 99 percent hers.

    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...