Don't call your hot boss the antichrist to his face. 2. Don't stare at hot boss's, um, package or his full sleeve of tattoos. (No. Really. Stop!) 3. Don't get on the malicious first assistant's bad side.4. Don't forget to memorize the 300-page employee manual.5. If you value your cashmere, steer clear of boss’s dog.6. Boss’s dimples are lust-inducing. Do. Not. Give. In. 7. “The elevator ate your clothes” is not a valid excuse for showing up to important meetings half dressed. 8. Don't break seven of the rules within the first week of employment if you, ya know, are in dire need of money to support your sick mom.9. Whatever you do, don’t fall for the boss. See rule eight about sick mom.10. Never forget the rules.

    You smile, say hello. Should be simple, if you’re anyone but me. The first time I met Dylan Reed, I found myself making eye contact with a different part of his body. You see, I’m very good at being shy, not to mention extremely well-versed in rambling nonsense and, unfortunately, rather highly skilled at making a fool of myself in front of a guy I’m attracted to. At the time, I knew nothing about him and thought none of what I said would matter since I’d never speak to him again. Turns out, I was very wrong. He was the star wide receiver of the football team, one of the few players expected to make it into the NFL, and I ended up seeing him all over campus. I might have also propositioned him, run away from him, attacked him with a cooking utensil…and…uh, maybe I shouldn’t tell you all of it. It’s pretty normal stuff, things you’d expect…from me. Eventually, the time came when I couldn’t hide anymore—not that he’d have let me even if I tried. Before now, he never knew I was secretly watching him. Now that we see each other every day, he knows when I have a hard time looking away. It doesn’t help that I’m not the most subtle person in the world either. He smiles at me and tells me he finds me fascinating because of my quirks. I can’t even tell him that I think my heart beats differently whenever he’s around. He thinks we’re going to be best friends. I think I have a big thing for him, and the more I get to know him, the more I don’t care that I’m not allowed to be his friend, let alone fall for him. The thing is, that’s exactly what I’m doing—what we’re doing, I think. Falling. Hard.

     Port Royal, South Carolina, was my home. I was born there. I fell in love there. And I nearly died there. I never thought I’d go back. Now, after so many years, I have to return to bury the man who made my life a living hell. Some nights, I used to cry myself to sleep, praying my father would die. Other nights were different. Other nights, there was him. Callan Cross. My first confidante. My first kiss. My first love. My first everything: Callan was the glue that held me together when everything else was falling apart. He was my savior. He was there for me whenever I needed him… Until he wasn’t. Every night, I’ve seen the love of my life in my sleep. I just never thought I’d have to face him again. Callan Twelve years ago, I f*#@ed up big time. Living life through a camera lens is sometimes easier than dealing with it head on. Scratch that. It’s always easier. For over a decade, I’ve been a master of my art, taking photographs all over the world. Yet despite all of the countries I’ve visited, the amazing things I’ve seen, the beautiful women I’ve screwed, my heart has remained in pieces. Coralie’s the only woman I’ve ever loved, will ever love. And I’m determined to show her that we’re meant to be together. Even if it means unearthing the bones of the past in the process. A lifetime and a thousand miles have stood between us. Now, there’s no length of time I won’t wait, no distance I won’t travel, in order to make her mine.

    Free spirits with personal boundary issues, excessive quirks, or general squeamishness need not apply. Salary negotiable. Confidentiality required.Workaholic billionaire Sawyer Carlyle may have joked he needed a “buffer” from their marriage-obsessed mom, but he didn’t need a waiting room filled with “candidates” to further distract him. (Thanks, bro.) But when a sexy job applicant shooes his mom and the socialite in tow out of his office, Sawyer sees the genius of the plan. And the woman. In fact, Miss Clover Lee might just get the fastest promotion in history, from buffer to fake fiancé…This “free-spirit” might look like hot sunshine and lickable rainbows, but she negotiates like a pitbull. Before Sawyer knows what hit him, he’s agreed to give up Friday nights for reality tv, his Saturdays for flea markets (why buy junk still baffles him), his Tuesdays and Thursdays for “date nights” (aka panty-losing opportunities if he plays his cards right). And now she wants lavender bath salts and tulips delivered every Monday? Yup, she’s just screwing with him. Good thing she’s got this non-negotiatable six-weeks-and-she’s-gone rule or Sawyer may have just met his match…

    The Romantic Style Book convention was meant to be a weekend of raucous fun with friends, sun, and enough poolside margaritas to forget about my ex. But now, instead of meeting my fans and signing books, I'm stuck with cocky divorce lawyer Nate Wexler. He's arrogant, infuriating, and I can't keep my hands off of him. Judging by the state of our hotel room, last night was wild. I just wish I could remember it.A pair of matching tattoos. A half empty box of glow-in-the-dark Trojans. And a... wedding veil?What the hell just happened?Discover the hot and hilarious world of the LUCKY IN LOVE series from Lila Monroe!1. Get Lucky2. Bet Me3. Lovestruck4. Mr Right-Now5. Perfect Match6. Christmas with the Billionaire"I laughed my ass off. Let me know if you find it. I wish I'd written this book."-- Kayti McGee"I've NEVER had SO MUCH FUN while reading a book! This was insanely good"-- Shayna's Spicy Reads"Get Lucky is an enchanting, steamy, delightful read I never wanted to end" -- Angie's Dreamy Reads"One of the funniest, light hearted, free spirited novels I have ever read... An absolute joy to read." - Bloggers From Down Under"This.Book.Is.SOOOO.Funny! What is the best way to describe it? It's like a cross between The Hangover and...a steamy romance novel...hahaha. SO SO steamy. I'm surprised my kindle didn't start smoking. But more importantly, it was funny and endearing." -- Micah Liesel's Book Blog

     I prefer a man with an artistic vein in his body. 9 - 5 hours. And I can definitely do without the half-lidded, sleepy bedroom eyes. (Okay, so those are kind of sexy.) Tall, dark, and handsome doesn’t change the fact that he’s arrogant, cocky, and rude. Not that I care, but he’s made it clear he wants nothing to do with a quirky girl like me, which is why he said no. Turns out no isn’t an option. I have a quickie wedding to plan, and Dr. Jake Kissinger doesn’t have a choice. He looks at our situation like he’s stuck with me, but in reality I’m stuck with him. Stuck with his pouty mouth. His long, lean body. And stuck with those loose, low riding scrub pants. (Okay, so the doctor thing is growing on me.) When spending time together turns into more than it should, I know I’m in trouble. He isn’t supposed to make my heart pound. I’m not supposed to make him look twice. And we aren’t supposed to spend the night together. (Okay, so he has more than one artistic vein in his body, and other places.) Falling for him is definitely a mistake. Here’s the thing…Jake is unavailable, and I know it. Just not in the way you might think. I guess you can’t have your cake and eat it too.

    Cops. Forks. Eggs. Two feuding neighbors who couldn’t be more opposite, forced to live next door to one another. Neither is backing down. She drives him crazy with her loud nineties rap music. He gets under her skin the way he obsesses over his stupid perfect lawn. She fantasizes about having sex with the hot nerd—but with duct tape over his dumb mouth. He has dirty dreams of the bombshell beauty where he bangs the crazy right out of her—nightmares of course. Anger isn’t the only thing heating up between these two. They think this is a battle only one of them can win… The growing attraction between them, though, seems to be far more stubborn than the two of them combined.

    Example: You're chatting with a guy you're interested in and your friend comes along and lays claim to him.MaggieThat's my life except it's worse. My friend who keeps jamming me is my gay roommate, and if that isn't a W.T.F. moment, I'm not sure what is. Fact: He went home with three yes, three of the guys I had been so sure were into me. Fact: He's really pissing me off. I mean, hello? I'm trying to get back in the saddle, but I'll never manage to get a boyfriend before the age of fifty if he keeps this up. Fact: Secretly, I wonder what it would be like if he weren't gay.RyThe day I interviewed for the room to rent, everything changed. I knew I had met the girl, except there was one small problem: she didn't want anything to do with men. I recognized a top-notch force field when I saw one. She'd been burned badly and didn't want to deal with a heterosexual guy as a roommate. I could've turned around and found another place to live, but I wanted to live there with her. So I had to go undercover. Fact: I'm in love with my roommate. Fact: She's going to hate me if I come clean now. Fact: I'm not giving up. Which means I'll just have to continue to run defense until I figure out a way to get Maggie to see the real me. The me that loves her. The me that would never do her wrong. Until then, I'll keep running off every guy who shows any interest. Until then, I'll continue to Clam Jam.

    All men. Famous last words, right? You’re expecting some epic tale of reluctant love and my dramatic change of heart? Well, you’re not going to get it. I’m stubborn. And headstrong. And I’ve just survived the worst three years of my life. After escaping an abusive boyfriend to live in hostels and cheap hotels while I worked my way across Europe, I’ve come to two conclusions. The first? Now that I’m back home, I’m going to squander my expensive culinary degree on a food truck that caters to the late night drunk crowd. The second? I’m going to prove to the bastard across the plaza that my street food is better than his fussy five course monstrosities.Killian Quinn might be Food and Wine’s Chef to Watch Out For. He might have a Michelin Star. He might have every food critic in the city wrapped around his too-large fingers. But he’s also pretentious and unbearably arrogant and the very opposite of me. So he can keep his unsolicited advice and his late night visits and his cocky smiles. I want none of it. Or him. I want the opposite.

    Macon Saint was beautiful, but despite his name, Delilah knew he was the devil. That he dated her slightly evil sister, Samantha, was no picnic either. When they broke up, it was a dream come true: Delilah never had to see him again.Ten years later, her old enemy sends a text.Delilah’s sister has stolen a valuable heirloom from Macon, now a rising Hollywood star, and he intends to collect his due. One problem: Sam has skipped town.Sparks still sizzle between Macon and Delilah, only this heat feels alarmingly like unwanted attraction. But Delilah is desperate to keep her weak-hearted mother from learning of her sister’s theft. So she proposes a deal: she’ll pay off the debt by being Macon’s personal chef and assistant.It’s a recipe for disaster, but Macon can’t stop himself from accepting. Even though Delilah clearly hates him, there’s something about her that feels like home. Besides, they’re no longer kids, and what once was a bitter rivalry has the potential to be something sweeter. Something like forever.

    Not even close.Now they have to live together for the next thirty days while renovating the family home. Or the estate will transfer to the one person Ben hates more than Emelia, and she'll have to move back to the one place she wants to forget more than Ben.Did I mention Ben look likes man-candy and smells like testosterone? Not that Emelia notices. She spends a lot of time not noticing things about Ben.

     Growing up, Ramsey Stewart branded my soul in ways time could never heal. At twelve, he asked me to be his girlfriend. At thirteen, he gave me my first kiss. By sixteen, we’d fallen in love, planned a future together, and had our eyes set on the horizon. Love never fails, right? But for Ramsey, it did. Love failed him. I failed him. The entire world failed him. At seventeen, Ramsey was convicted of killing the boy who assaulted me. Move on, he wrote in his first and only letter from prison. Start a new life, he urged. I don’t love you anymore, he lied. There was no such thing as giving up on Ramsey. Love may have been our curse, but he was mine—then, now, and forever. So here I am, twelve long years later, waiting for a man I don't even know to emerge from between the chain link gates.

    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*

    Turns out, kissing Chase Croft — Boston’s most eligible bachelor — may be enough to convince even a girl who’s given up on love to let down her guard one last time...NOT YOU IT’S ME is a full-length, comedic contemporary romance about a girl who doesn’t believe in love… and the man who changes her mind. It is the first installment of the internationally bestselling BOSTON LOVE STORY series and can be read as a complete standalone. Due to sexy-times and strong language, it is intended for readers 17 and up.

    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?