Chase Football’s biggest bad-boy. That’s what they called me. And I was more than willing to live up to the name. But when my wild ways threatened the thing I loved most – football – my agent convinced me there was only one way to save my football career: get married. To a girl more virtuous than Mother Teresa. Where in the world would I find a chick like that? Aubrey How did a small-town girl like me get caught up in a fake marriage to a football star? Marrying for money? Stupid. Marrying an absolute ‘manwhore’ who spent all his considerable charm and energy trying to get into my pants, despite our ‘no sex’ marriage contract? Reckless. Falling in love with such bad boy? Complete insanity.

    As if bright orange goo on her business shirts and terminal exhaustion aren’t enough to deal with, Bailey’s uncle shows up, insisting on being part of his nephew’s life. Roguishly handsome with a devil‐may‐care attitude, Mike Wilcox is always first with a quip or a flirtatious smile. When he breezily suggests he move in with her temporarily, Eve sees noway to refuse, as the cottage in which she lives was left to Mike by his late brother.On the surface, Mike seems like the perfect house mate. He’s a successful chef, so Eve’s diet goes from fast food to five star overnight, and he effortlessly takes on daytime care of his nephew, while working at a local restaurant in the evenings. But he wears muscle‐ hugging T‐shirts and makes the cottage seem like a home, things that appeal to Eve more than she cares to admit.A lonely, neglected child, Eve has learned to rely only on herself, but having Mike around soon makes her want to believe things can be different. How can she trust a man who’s lived life by the seat of his pants to stick around for the long haul?

     Outgoing? Check.Single? Check.Open to finding love? Check. I signed up immediately. A hopeless romantic with an exceedingly demanding schedule, I've found it impossible to find the man of my dreams—so Going in Blind seems too good to be true! That’s until they start setting me up on dates—three very different, very attractive, very distinct blind dates—and only one thing is for certain . . . I’m in big trouble. Good Morning Malibu,I'm Noely Clark, and I have a choice to make.The question is who will I choose; the suit, the rebel, or the jock.

    She has one chance to turn things around with a big audition. But instead of getting her big break, she gets sick as a dog and completely bombs it in the most humiliating fashion. All thanks to a mysterious, gorgeous guy who kissed—and then coughed on—her at a party the night before.Luckily, her best friend might have found the perfect opportunity; a job staying at the lavish penthouse apartment of hotel magnate Bancroft Mills while he’s out of town, taking care of his exotic pets. But when the newly-evicted Ruby arrives to meet her new employer, it turns out Bane is the same guy who got her sick. Seeing his role in Ruby’s dilemma, Bane offers her a permanent job as his live-in pet sitter until she can get back on her feet. Filled with hilariously awkward encounters and enough sexual tension to heat a New York City block, Shacking Up, from NYT and USA Today bestselling author Helena Hunting, is sure to keep you laughing and swooning all night long.

    It started out like any other morning on the train.Until I became mesmerized by the guy sitting across the aisle.He was barking at someone on his phone like he ruled the world.Who did the stuck-up suit think he was...God?Actually, he looked like a God. That was about it.When his stop came, he got up suddenly and left. So suddenly, he dropped his phone on the way out.I might have picked it up.I might have gone through all of his photos and called some of the numbers.I might have held onto the mystery man's phone for days―until I finally conjured up the courage to return it.When I traipsed my ass across town to his fancy company, he refused to see me.So, I left the phone on the empty desk outside the arrogant jerk's office.I might have also left behind a dirty picture on it first though.I didn't expect him to text back.I didn't expect our exchanges to be hot as hell.I didn't expect to fall for him―all before we even met.The two of us couldn't have been any more different.Yet, you know what they say about opposites.When we finally came face to face, we found out opposites sometimes do more than attract―we consumed each other.Nothing could have prepared me for the ride he took me on. And I certainly wasn't prepared for where I'd wind up when the ride was over.All good things must come to an end, right?Except our ending was one I didn't see coming.

    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?

    She's lost her business, and her fiancé who called off their engagement. Now she's broke and on her own, living in a loft apartment she can barely afford. But something in her feng shui must be working, because her new neighbor across the hall is a sexy Brit fashion photographer...and he has just the thing to turn Nikki's bad luck around.Dallas is tired of stick-thin fashion models with no personality. So when his curvaceous new neighbor, Nikki, seeks his help in making her ex jealous, Dallas is only too happy to oblige the woman who sets his libido on fire every time she walks into a room. Dallas, not being one to make commitments, thinks all he wants is a little taste of Nikki. But will it be enough?Just as Nikki and Dallas hatch their plan, the wicked chemistry between them—growing more irresistible by the second—complicates things. Now the lines between make-believe and making love blur. Have Nikki and Dallas found a perfect arrangement... or have they designed the perfect plan for disaster?

    Thirty days ago, my boss—Mr. Wolf of Wall Street, came to me with an offer I couldn’t refuse: Sign my name on the dotted line and pretend to be his fiancée for one month. If I agreed, he would let me out of my employment contract with a “very generous” severance package. The rules were pretty simple: No intimate kissing, no actual sex. Just pretend to love each other for the press, even though I’ve secretly wanted to knock that sexy smirk off his face since the first day we met. I definitely didn’t need to think twice about this. I signed my name and started counting down the seconds to when I would never have to deal with his special brand of ass-holery again. I only made it to one minute...We argued the entire four-hour flight to his hometown, failed to make a convincing impression with the welcoming press, and right when I was about to knock that arrogant look off his face in real life? He purposely dropped his bath towel in front of me, distracting me with his nine-inch cock to "show me who the bigger person was" in our relationship. Then he gave me his trademark smirk once again and asked if I wanted to consummate our marriage.Tragically, this is only day one. We still have 29 more days to go...

    It's definitely the SIZE of the boat too. And I've got both firing on all cylinders. In fact, I have ALL the right assets. Looks, brains, my own money, and a big c*&k.You might think I'm an a*&hole. I sound like one, don’t I? I'm hot as sin, rich as heaven, smart as hell and hung like a horse.Guess what? You haven't heard my story before. Sure, I might be a playboy, like the NY gossip rags call me. But I’m the playboy who’s actually a great guy. Which makes me one of a kind. The only trouble is, my dad needs me to cool it for a bit. With conservative investors in town wanting to buy his flagship Fifth Avenue jewelry store, he needs me not only to zip it up, but to look the part of the committed guy. Fine. I can do this for Dad. After all, I’ve got him to thank for the family jewels. So I ask my best friend and business partner to be my fiancée for the next week. Charlotte’s up for it. She has her own reasons for saying yes to wearing this big rock.And pretty soon all this playing pretend in public leads to no pretending whatsoever in the bedroom, because she just can’t fake the kind of toe-curling, window-shattering orgasmic cries she makes as I take her to new heights between the sheets.But I can’t seem to fake that I might be feeling something real for her.What the fuck have I gotten myself into with this…big rock?BIG ROCK is a standalone, dirty romance novel written from the guy’s POV by NYT Bestselling author Lauren Blakely…

    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?

    I don’t want to party or try to move on. I just want to stay home and post a new recipe on my blog: Brynn’s Dips and Balls.But my friends aren’t having it. Get out there again, they say. It will be fun, they say. I’m still taking a hard pass. Free designer cocktails, they say. And that’s a game-changer. Too bad my ex shows up with his new arm candy. That’s when I lose my mind. But when my besties dare me to leap on the first single man I see, they don't expect me to actually go through with it.TOMAll I need right now is some peace and quiet while my home renovation TV show is on hiatus. But when a curvy woman in a red wrap dress charges me like she’s a gymnast about to mount my high bar, all I can do is brace myself and catch her. What follows is the hottest experience of my adult life. I want a repeat, but my flying Cinderella disappears immediately afterward. She doesn’t leave a glass slipper, either—just a pair of panties with chocolate bunnies printed on them. But I will find her.

    If you can’t trust a man to follow through on a fake wedding, who can you trust? So maybe she is a little uptight and suppressed, as Brian points out, but after watching her father run through six wives, she can’t help but be a little bit of a control freak. Who never intends to get married for real. Rick Dengler did the marriage thing and the only good thing that came out of it was his daughter.Otherwise, it just left him broke and disillusioned. So he isn’t looking for anything but illegal campers when he’s doing rounds through the park on his job as a ranger. What he finds is a sexy blonde in heels frozen in the path of a black bear.Which leads to them both covered in poison ivy. Which leads to stripping down to what nature intended in a heart shaped hot tub. Which leads Angel and Rick to conclude that maybe they’re not out of the woods yet when it comes to falling in love with a person all wrong for you..

    She also has no filter.”“He’s no southern gentlemen.”“I had one last season to prove my worth.”“I’d never seen a game.”“He told me he was a player.”“She told me she was a lesbian.”“But you fell in love with me anyway.”“Yeah, baby, I totally did.”

    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

    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.