I’ve spent my life running away from my past.And for so long, that’s worked.Not anymore.Now my past is out to get me in the form of Zach O’Malley.He was my first crush, but that was then.My name is still Beatrice Dobbs, but everything else has changed. I’m an adult now. I don’t want to go back to my troubled past.Plus Zach is from the wrong side of the tracks. Sure, back when I was in high school, I had a thing for the Bad Boy, but not anymore.And on top of that, he’s trying to get me to reconnect with my mother. I haven’t spoken to her since I was eighteen, and I would rather re-take the SAT’s than see her again.And yet, I can’t seem to push Zach away.He’s no good for me.But maybe – just maybe– my teenage self was onto something.What’s the harm in a little bit of fun?

    After you’ve seen a woman strip down at the laundry room to wash the clothes she’s wearing, then saunter across the street naked, you’ve seen it all, right? How naïve I was. After the factory closed, leaving me and a good portion of the town unemployed, I took a job managing Scarlet Toys. I knew it wouldn’t be a typical work environment, selling adult toys in a town more uptight than a constipated nun, but some things you just never see coming. Like the protesters covered in poison ivy, screaming about smut peddlers. Or a dancing dinosaur named Fappy. Or the allure of the man standing in the center of all the chaos. Wyatt Lawson, a six foot, four inch heap of muscle with a quick smile, ignited my interest in more than the available manager position. Like the missionary one. Or the rodeo. Maybe the side rider. What can I say? I’m an overachiever. Let’s just hope he doesn’t scare easily. This is the first book in a series of standalone novels.

    Oh, and did I forget to mention he has a fake wife?Yeah, that’s me.

     But one look at Cade Hill, the sexy new sports director, and uptight reporter Rebecca Fieldstone is daydreaming about other things. Sex in his office… Sex in the on-set kitchen… Sex in the supply closet… She can’t stop thinking about the former NFL quarterback and how perfect he’d look between her sheets—except he’s an arrogant jerk with a huge… ego. He’s the last guy she’d ever have a one-night stand with. Cade Hill draws a thick professional line on office romance—until it comes to the hyper-focused Rebecca. He wants her, and he gets his wish when a chance encounter has them having the hottest sex of their lives. It’s just a hook-up, she says. When can we do it again? he says. With Rebecca determined to keep Cade in the friend zone, it’s going to be an uphill battle for Cade to convince her he’s the last guy she’ll ever want. THE LAST GUY is the first white-hot CONTEMPORARY ROMANTIC COMEDY from Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills and Tia Louise. It features Fireball-fueled hookups, Doritos Locos Tacos, attack monkeys, toddlers in tiaras, and one fabulous drag queen. Prepare for frantic clicking (or page flipping!) and smoking-hot sexytimes all the way to the out-of-this-world happily-ever-after.

    Fresh off a bad divorce, she decides to rebuild her life from the ground up - starting with a fixer-upper that's got more leaks than the Titanic. Deciding to tackle this project alone might be her biggest mistake of all.... That is, until Noah Thompson shows up at her front door like a knight in a shining tool belt and makes her an offer she'd be crazy to refuse.Noah's sexy, rugged, and good with his hands, but Finley swears she doesn't need his help - in the basement, or in the bedroom. Can this unlikely couple build a future together? Or will this be one fixer-upper that is better off left alone?(A fun and sexy Contemporary Romance, ages 17+.)

    The first step is admitting, right? Except, I can never admit it to him because he clearly doesn’t see me that way, and the last thing I want is for things to get weird between us.Nothing but good old-fashioned, no-touching-the-sexiest-man-alive, platonic friendship for us! Everything is exactly how I like it! Yes. Good. (I’m not crying, I’m just peeling an onion.)Our friendship is going swimmingly until I accidentally spill my beans to a reporter over too much tequila, and now the world seems to think me and Nathan belong together. Oh, and did I mention we have to date publicly for three weeks until after the Super Bowl because we signed a contract with...oops, forgot I can’t tell anyone about that! Bottom line is, now my best friend is smudging all the lines and acting very un-platonic, and I’m just trying to keep my body from bursting into flames every time he touches me.How am I going to make it through three weeks of fake dating Nathan without anything changing between us? Especially when it almost-sort-a-kinda seems like he’s fighting for a completely different outcome?Send help.XO Bree

    And since the last three weeks of my life have been riddled with humbug—another breakup, a broken toe, an office promotion I deserved and didn’t get—I’m not at all in the mood to celebrate nor have the happ, happ, happiest Christmas EVER.When Mom insisted that we all gather at my Grandparent’s ancient cabin for an old school family Christmas, I fully intended to get into the holiday spirit with the help of the three wise men, Johnnie Walker, Jack Daniels, and Jim Beam. But those boys did absolutely nothing to offset the shock or temper the sting of seeing my EX on our doorstep the first day of our holiday soiree.Apparently, Santa missed the memo, and this elf is pissed.Stuck for a week with the man who obliterated my heart nearly two decades ago, I did the only thing I could do and put on my game face, thankful for the home advantage.I knew better than to drink that last cup of eggnog.I knew better than to get tongue tangled beneath the mistletoe with the only man to ever break my heart.I knew better than to sleep with Satan’s wingman on the eve of the Lord’s birthday.I could blame the nog. I could blame the deceitful light blue eyes, thick, angelic hair, and panty evaporating smirk…but mostly, I blame Eli because he always knew exactly which of my buttons to push.I foolishly thought a family Christmas filled with nostalgia was going to turn my inner Scrooge around, but this year’s festivities went up in flames. Leave it to the ghost of my Christmas past to be the one to light the match.Fa la la la la, la FML.

    I was naked. And we had no chance in hell at ever being platonic. I’ll be the first to admit that I live at extremes. After going ten years locked in what felt like a dysfunctional marriage, I’m now decidedly boy-free. In nearly three years I’ve had no boyfriends, no flings, no dates and no sex. For the sake of my dream career, the sacrifice has been easy. At least it was. Until he came along. Lukas Hendricks. He’s rude, gorgeous, arrogant – a stone-carved wall of muscle and distraction. He’s everything I know to avoid but there’s no avoiding your next-door neighbor. Oh yeah. The man now lives three steps from me and to make matters worse, he crashed into my life while I was relaxed in the tub – mortifying to say the least and it went something like this: I was exposed. He looked. He laughed. And then I locked myself out. In short, Lukas Hendricks was trouble from the start. And me? I was – for the first time in years – about to be screwed.

    Easy. Wear designer clothing and sip champagne? Don’t mind if I do. Flirting with Grant? It’s so delicious I should be paying him. Nothing can go wrong as long as I can keep my hands off of him. But that’s the hard part. And I do mean hard. Because Grant is sexy. And bossy. And surprisingly sweet, a real rarity in his pretentious family. Oops. I’m not as good at faking it as I thought. Or maybe they call this method acting. Because it’s getting harder to figure out where my character ends and I begin… It just might be the role of a lifetime. Weekend Wife is a standalone romantic comedy with a sexy billionaire, a sassy heroine, and a Happily Ever After.

    Sexy Stranger is more appealing. And when he speaks—in that British accent—it’s a done deal. Every American woman has a hot British guy fantasy. Well, most do. I haven't taken a poll or anything, but I’m pretty sure it’s a fact.  Except… You know that saying about best-laid plans? Good, because I don’t either, but I assume they go awry.Like my one night stand…

    That means getting out from under her family’s wealth and influence by saying no to the family business, her allowance, and her home. But on a teacher’s salary, the real world comes as a rude awakening—especially when she wakes up every morning on a colleague’s couch. To get a place of her own (without cockroaches, mold, or crime scene tape), Madison accepts a position as a roommaid. In exchange for free room and board, all she needs to do is keep her busy roommate’s penthouse clean and his dog company. So what if she’s never washed a dish in her life. She can figure this out, right?Madison is pretty confident she can fake it well enough that Tyler Roth will never know the difference. The finance whiz is rich and privileged and navigates the same social circles as her parents—but to him she’s just a teacher in need of an apartment. He’s everything Madison has run from, but his kindhearted nature, stomach-fluttering smile, and unexpected insecurities only make her want to get closer. And Tyler is warming to the move.Rewarding job. Perfect guy. Great future. With everything so right, what could go wrong? Madison is about to find out.

    She’s also a bit sexually-frustrated. Until … God bestows a breath of mercy upon her in the form of Minnesota’s NFL starting quarterback. But this gift is no stranger. Lake met Cage Monaghan three years earlier. It was one day. One moment. One kiss that resurrected her dreams of finding love. His dimpled smile distracts from his imperfections, which include: a love for country music, fishing, and a feline-hating girlfriend. When life finally gives them their chance, it’s a humorous and heart-wrenching journey to find their place in the world. "We would be Cage and Lake. We would be unpredictable. We would be reckless. We would give normality the middle finger.” ***This book is a standalone. However, it is HIGHLY recommended that any readers who have not, but may consider, reading the Jack & Jill Series, do so before reading this book. It contains spoilers to Jack & Jill.

    So when she runs into him in New York City on business, they both see this as an opportunity to explore their undeniable attraction. But can a whirlwind of passion turn into long-lasting love?

    Instead, I’m trapped in personal assistant hell. His hobbies include barking orders, torpedoing my advertising campaigns, and reducing the office staff to tears.On a good day, he acts like I’m invisible. On a bad day, I remind myself arsenic is not an acceptable sweetener for coffee. And prison orange would be murder on my complexion.Imagine my surprise when Chase follows me home to Bitter End, North Carolina, where I’m about to endure my ex-fiancé’s wedding.The moment he chases off my date and offers to pose as my boyfriend, I know he's got a hidden agenda—especially when he plays the part a little too convincingly. Unfortunately, I have to play along to find out what he’s really up to.To satisfy the town gossip squad, I’ll have to let him kiss me. Who knew Satan’s lips were so soft and inviting? And if we’re really playing the part, we’ll have to go to Lover’s Lane – testing my willpower beyond its limits.The more time we spend together outside the office, though, the more I see a different side of him. He’s still bossy and demanding, but is it wrong that I find it kind of, well … hot?This wedding is bound to be hell, so I might as well spend it in the arms of a sexy devil.

    I’m an influencer. I run a popular blog where I give all kinds of dating tips, and girls all over the world thank me for helping them with their love lives.I wish I could follow my own advice because my love life is totally dead. I just drunk texted my ex-boyfriend… except, I didn’t. That text ended up going to someone else.Oops.This new relationship is almost picture-perfect, just like my online life. I guess I give good… text.He doesn’t have to put up with my colorful personality — as my hot next-door neighbor describes me. Or my messy schedule.This long-distance relationship is the best thing that’s happened to me and I plan to keep it that way.Until we agree to meet up, and I’m freaking out.When he meets the real me, will he hate me forever?Or will we be one day telling our grandkids about that wrong text, right love?***Wrong Text, Right Love is a cute rom-com of two secret lovers who prepare to risk it all for love. Claudia Burgoa brings the flirty fun in this cozy novel of risking it all for romance.This is a standalone story with an HEA.