Her references are good. And she’s easy on the eyes.Until …Flint discovers Ellen Rodgers, Board-Certified Music Therapist, plays music. Bongos, guitars, singing—not Beethoven administered through noise-cancelling headphones.The cut-throat attorney serves up an eviction notice to the bubbly, constantly humming redhead who's too sexy for her own good. But luck is on Ellen’s side when Flint’s autistic son, Harrison, takes an instant liking to her. A single dad can’t compete with guitars—and rats. Yes, she has pet rats.This woman …She’s annoyingly happy with a constant need to touch him—adjust his tie, button his shirt, invade his space, and mess with his mind.Still …She must go.Their lust-hate relationship escalates into something beautiful and tragic. This sexy, romantic-comedy explores the things we want, the things we need, and the impossible decisions parents and children make to survive.

    As in Barbie and Ken. Secrets from her mother: I lost my virginity in the spare bedroom with Danny Nussbaum while Mum and Dad were downstairs watching Ben-Hur. Secrets she wouldn't share with anyone in the world: I have no idea what NATO stands for. Or even what it is. Until she spills them all to a handsome stranger on a plane. At least, she thought he was a stranger.…Until Emma comes face-to-face with Jack Harper, the company's elusive CEO, a man who knows every single humiliating detail about her...

    He should have known that sharing a cookie with a sugar obsessed little monster would do the trick–it sealed his fate. So really, the fact that he’s sporting a black eye, a limp, almost got ran over by a car, and was nearly responsible for another person’s death? Right. HIs fault. Not mine. I made a pact with myself–this weekend would be different. I’d come home for my brothers wedding, smile, and Colton would naturally melt into my arms, we’d get married have five kids, live in a house by the river, and get a dog named scratch (clearly I’ve thought this through).What really happened? I punched my brother in the face, Colton kissed me and apologized, I lied about having a boyfriend, oh and everyone wants to meet the mystery man. They say laughter always comes before insanity–ha, ha. All I wanted was my brother’s best friend…instead I’m sitting in prison. Let this be a lesson to you all…life rarely happens the way you want it to. Damn cookie.

    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.

    I really, really don’t.He’s egotistical, crass, and my patient’s owner—which makes him totally off limits. Yep, that’s right. He owns the wiener I’m currently working on. A wiener dog—get your dirty mind out of the gutter. I’ve also worked on his spoodle, his cocker-shitzu, and a cheagle—don’t ask. (And no, it’s not a sexual position.) It doesn’t help that he also represents most of my joint-owned veterinary practice’s small clientele. We’d only just opened the doors a few months ago, and in he strode with a yelping Taco Terrier. One haughty look at our sparkling new facilities, he’d demanded royal treatment, even though I was currently finger deep up a squalling tom cat. Ever since then, he expects me to serve him.Any time. All the time. Him and his revolving zoo of dogs. One of these days, I’m going to swat him for being such a pompous ass but I can’t deny the way he handles his charges makes me want to see past the ‘do as I say and don’t ask questions’ barking exterior. But then last week…he caught me staring at his um, cough, package. His bossy commands switched to a cocky smirk. He gave me permission to do something I promised myself I would never ever do.I can touch it.If I want…

    Yeah, that Barrett Callahan—the one the press dubbed “Bare” after those naked sexting pictures surfaced. At twenty-five, I was armed with an MBA from Harvard, an executive position at my father’s Fortune 500 company, a penthouse, and a different piece of delectable eye candy in my bed every weekend. I had a life most men dreamed of. But then my father decided to run for president, and my playboy lifestyle became a liability to his campaign that was built on family values. My “makeover” comes in the form of a fake fiancée who I don't even get to choose--one who is an uptight, choirgirl acting priss but also sexy-as-hell. AddisonMy latest relationship had gone down in flames, and I was drowning in a sea of student loans when in true Godfather status, James Callahan made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Seven figures for seven months on the campaign trail pretending to be the adoring fiancée of his son, Barrett. As soon as he won the election, our engagement would be dissolved amicably for the press, I was free to ride off into the sunset a million dollars richer, and because of the NDA, no one would be the wiser. Sure, I’d never met the guy, but I’d been a theater nerd in high school. I could pull off any role from Lady Macbeth to Maria Von Trapp. But that was before I met my fake fiancé—the infuriating, self-absorbed, egotistical, drop-dead-sexy King of the Manwhores. The race will be a fight to the death finish, and that’s not even the actual campaign.

    And one thing the sweet Southern belle knows for sure is that the foundation of wedded bliss is built on similarities: opposites might attract, but they don’t stay together. Enter Mason Spark.Rude, arrogant, and notoriously allergic to monogamy, the hottest quarterback in the NFL is Maddie’s polar opposite. He’s also her new client. Her gorgeous, infuriating new client who’s paying her an outrageous sum of money to find him a wife. With his multi-million dollar contract on the line due to his behavior on and off the field, bad boy Mason is willing to pretend to settle down. But when he starts to fall for the adorkable matchmaker who can’t stand him, the playboy finds himself in the game of his life to keep something he never thought he’d lose—his heart.

    Cruz Costello is my archenemy.But that would require acknowledging one another, which we haven’t done in over a decade.He’s the town’s golden child. The beloved quarterback-turned-physician.I’m the girl who got knocked up at sixteen and now works at a diner.He is Fairhope royalty.I get my monarch dose from tabloid gossip.He’s well-off.I’m…well, off.When our siblings get engaged, Cruz’s parents invite both families to a pre-wedding cruise.Except Cruz and I find ourselves stuck on a different ship from everyone else.Cue ten horrible, insufferable days at sea with a man I cannot stand.(My fault, of course.)But when the alcohol pours in, the secrets spill out, and I’m left with one question:Can I take another chance on love?

     Things like pizza. The very pizzas that I deliver for my dad’s restaurant, Peretti’s Pizza. It’s a temporary job, something to pay the bills until I graduate from school, but it does the trick. In fact, it's working quite well until Ryan Pierce of the Minnesota Stars decides to order a pizza from me, and life as I know it turns upside down. You see, Ryan Pierce doesn’t just open his front door. He opens it buck naked. And suddenly, I’m not the one boasting the biggest, hottest package in the room. However, it’s what happens next that gives me butterflies whenever my phone beeps. Ryan starts to call, and then text, and then fifteen pizza deliveries and one fantastic night later, we’re friends with benefits. So when he asks me to be his fake girlfriend at his brother’s wedding, I’m happy to help. But the longer we pretend, the more I worry that this is one package I might not be able to handle. ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** This is a full-length, standalone romantic comedy with an HEA. It is intended for audiences 18+ due to mature content including romance, language, and ridiculously fun times.

    USA Today Bestselling author, N.M. Silber brings you a tale filled with laughter, love and lusty lawyers. Gabrielle Ginsberg is a public defender with plenty of nerve and Braden Pierce is an assistant district attorney with a whole lot of swagger. Together Gabrielle and Braden discover that the path to true love is not always smooth, and is sometimes tread upon by some really wacky people like crazy ex-girlfriends, kinky politicians and a gentleman who throws a wine and cheese party in his pants Can true love overcome a lack of privacy, interference by jealous rivals and the insanity of the criminal court system? Find out in the book that reviewers called a "Stand-out Romantic Comedy."IMPORTANT NOTICE: This book contains explicit descriptions of sexual situations and mature language. It is intended for readers over the age of eighteen. This book is part of a TWO BOOK serial. Part two, The Home Court Advantage is available now. The same cast of characters and story world is likewise featured in an ongoing series of novels, novellas and short stories that can be read as stand-alone books.

    She’s already near her breaking point, so when one caller too many kicks the bucket during Hollie’s 911 shift, she cashes in the Sweethearts’ Spa & Stay gift certificate from her dad and heads to Revelation Cove, British Columbia. One caveat: she’s going solo. Any sweethearts will have to be found on site.Hollie hopes to find her beloved otters in the wilds of the Great White North, but instead she’s providing comic relief for staff and guests alike. Even Concierge Ryan, a former NHL star with bad knees and broken dreams, can’t stop her from stumbling from one (mis)adventure to another. Just when Hollie starts to think that a change of venue doesn’t mean a change in circumstances, the island works its charm and she starts to think she might have found the rejuvenation she so desperately desires. But then an uninvited guest crashes the party, forcing her to step out of the discomfort zone where she dwells and save the day … and maybe even herself in the process.

    You know, the one with the to-die-for body and panty-melting smirk. And then there‘s the way his designer suits drape over his broad shoulders and big...well, we‘ve all heard the rumors, the ones that say he‘s up for any challenge.But I can‘t see him that way. He‘s my boss - technically one of the owners of the company where I work - and definitely not in my league. Men like him don‘t notice women like me, and they don‘t date them. And I don‘t date men like him. Until that one time that I catch him in a compromising position when I‘m also in need of a last-minute date for a wedding...and then it‘s not real. It‘s blackmail.For one weekend, he‘s my plus-one.Beautiful and unobtainable.From the moment she walked into my office with those stunning blue eyes and crazy sensual curves, she‘s been on my mind. Three years and never once has she acted interested in me. Usually I flash a million-dollar smile and women fall to their knees, some literally. Not her.Then on the occasion that I agree to let another woman do that - fall to her knees - guess who happens to catch us?It may not be the most conventional way to get on her radar, but I didn‘t get this far in business without knowing when to seize an opportunity. If this sexy little firecracker with perfectly kissable lips thinks she can blackmail me into attending her cousin‘s wedding, I‘m going to jump at the chance to be her plus-one.You love her darker side. Now it‘s time to meet Leatha, the lighter side of Aleatha, as she trades her renowned twists and turns for laughs and love with this sexy new standalone romance, Plus One.

    After countless mishaps, mistakes, and unmitigated disasters on the dating scene, she’s decided to give up and move on with her life…solo.Everything changes, however, after Fawn runs into Levi Fremont, a homicide detective new to New York City.Dedication to the job has rendered Levi’s love life nonexistent—until he moves in next door to the free-spirited Fawn. After a series of comedic run-ins push them together, will they finally give in to the inevitable and realize—maybe—they are perfect for each other?

    how do you know when it’s real? When her partner of over a decade suddenly ends things, Laurie is left reeling—not only because they work at the same law firm and she has to see him every day. Her once perfect life is in shambles and the thought of dating again in the age of Tinder is nothing short of horrifying. When news of her ex’s pregnant girlfriend hits the office grapevine, taking the humiliation lying down is not an option. Then a chance encounter in a broken-down elevator with the office playboy opens up a new possibility.Jamie Carter doesn’t believe in love, but he needs a respectable, steady girlfriend to impress their bosses. Laurie wants a hot new man to give the rumor mill something else to talk about. It’s the perfect proposition: a fauxmance played out on social media, with strategically staged photographs and a specific end date in mind. With the plan hatched, Laurie and Jamie begin to flaunt their new couple status, to the astonishment—and jealousy—of their friends and colleagues. But there’s a fine line between pretending to be in love and actually falling for your charming, handsome fake boyfriend...

    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...