He’s the epitome of the “bad boy, good man” persona. The best of both worlds. The worst of them too. He’s the type of guy most girls wouldn’t mind sharing a confined space with, except my new roommate isn’t all swagger and chiseled abs. He’s bossy. Messy. Cocky. Infuriating. Doesn’t believe in personal space. Has no qualms about roaming the apartment with a loincloth-sized towel cinched around his waist. Seems under the delusion he’s my personal protector (refer back to infuriating). He plays college baseball and holds down a part-time job—I don’t know where he finds the time to get on my nerves. We have nothing in common . . . except our attraction to one another. And in six hundred square feet of shared space, the tension only has so much room to grow before one of us gives in to temptation. But really, what chance do a couple of young kids chasing their dreams in the big city have of making it?Since Soren claims I know squat about sports (he might have a semi-point), here’s a stat for him—one in a million. That’s our odds.

    But when you’re the daughter of the President of the United States, any little slip up is a huge embarrassment. Maddie McGuire’s latest error in judgment lands her in police custody, giving the press a field day. Agreeing to do community service as penance and to restore her tattered reputation, Maddie never dreams incredibly good looking but extremely annoying vice president’s son, Jake Simmon, will be along for the ride.Recently returning from Afghanistan with a life-altering injury, Jake is wrestling with his own demons. He doesn’t have the time or patience to deal with the likes of Maddie. They’re like oil and water and every time they’re together, it’s combustible. But there’s a thin line between love and hate, and it’s not long before their fiery arguments give way to infinitely sexier encounters.When Jake receives devastating news about the last remaining member of his unit, the darkness he’s resisted for so long begins to overwhelm him. Scared to let anyone close, he pushes Maddie away. But she isn’t about to give up on Jake that easily. Maddie’s fallen for him, and she’ll do anything to keep him from the edge as they both discover that love is a battlefield and there are some fights you just can’t lose.

    The daughter of a legend, the Yankees were my family, their stadium my home, their dugout my workplace. My focus was on the game. Chase... he started out as a distraction. A distraction with sex appeal poured into every inch of his six foot frame. A distraction who played like a god and partied like a devil. I tried to stay away. I couldn’t. Then, the team started losing. Women started dying. And everything in my world broke apart.

    Copywriter Callie Murphy has a bad attitude, a vicious tongue, and a serious aversion to Shimura Advertising’s resident manwhore, Walker Rhodes. Know where he can stick his good looks and Southern charm? She can think of a few creative places. Avoiding him wouldn’t be a problem, except her boss threatens to fire her if she doesn’t go along with him on their RV client’s cross-country tour. Burnt-out art director, Walker, is sick of his job, tired of women, and in a big old creative rut. The upcoming client road trip is just what he needs to shake things up and rediscover his lost passion. But his plans go south when his partner drops out at the last minute, and Callie, the foul-mouthed tiny terror, takes her place. Unless he can find a way to thaw his icy coworker, he’s looking at two months of pure hell. Road-Tripped is a stand-alone novel and the first book in the Ad Agency Series. *Not for readers under 18. Erotic sex, adult language, and drug use.

    Beautiful and popular, if not a little jaded. A chance encounter with a green-eyed stuntman sets off a chain of events that turns her perfect, little world upside down. Short on options and desperate for adventure, she joins the traveling carnival for the summer. Thrust into a world full of drama, deception, and secrecy, Evangeline tries to find herself and protect her heart in the process. Sebastian McAllister is cursed. He knows better than to think otherwise. He’s content to live out the rest of his life traveling the country as one of the four Sons of Eastlake, seeking thrills the only way he knows how. The one thing he doesn’t see coming is the spoiled blond with stars in her eyes. The only problem is, the more time he spends with her, the more hope starts to stir in his dormant heart. Too bad hope is a dangerous thing when you’re a McAllister

    But it did.This wasn’t supposed to be my life. But it was.I was just a typical girl, living a typical life. Nothing was out of the ordinary until tragedy threw me into a turnstile I couldn’t see my way out of. That was, until him.I never could’ve imagined my heart falling the way it did. Hard, fast, and with unbounding beauty. The only problem? He was off limits. Forbidden. But he became my everything, and I became his, so we risked it all. It was only a matter of time until I realized that our risk came with unimaginable consequences. My name is Camellia Hale and his is David Andrews, and this is our love story.

    My name is Cassidy Porter...My father, Paul Isaac Porter, was executed twenty years ago for the brutal murder of twelve innocent girls.Though I was only eight-years-old at the time, I am aware - every day of my life - that I am his child, his only son.To protect the world from the poison in my veins, I live a quiet life, off the grid, away from humanity.I promised myself, and my mother, not to infect innocent lives with the darkness that swirls within me, waiting to make itself known.It's a promise I would have kept...if Brynn Cadogan hadn't stumbled into my life.Now I exist between heaven and hell: falling for a woman who wants to love me, while all along reminding myself that I must remain...Unloved.**NOTE: This book is intended for readers 18+**

    And frankly, I kind of wish I still didn’t because then I wouldn’t have a sprained ankle to show for it. And my leg wouldn’t resemble a boa constrictor that’s swallowed a feral pig. Yeah, it’s that bad.I’ve spent years saving every penny I’ve ever earned to be able to transfer to Malibu University. And now my entire future––including my scholarship––is in jeopardy. So I either accept the help he insists on giving me, or lose everything I’ve sacrificed for. In the meantime, I’m going to ignore the fact that we’re becoming friends.And I’m definitely going to pretend he’s not turning into the object of my…umm, dirty fantasies. That’s not happening. Not even a little.Because the minute I clapped eyes on him I knew he was nothing but trouble.

    When he arrives at the island for a fundraising business conference, the last person he expected to run into was the woman who broke his heart six years ago. Needing space from her ex and time with her young son, Violet Moon has the perfect summer plans—a three-month position on the beautiful tropical Coconut Island. Plan A is ruined when she runs into the man who tried to stop her wedding six years before—the man she’s tried unsuccessfully to forget. Her new Plan B is to avoid him, which she thinks she can pull of because he’s only on the island for a week. Too bad he blackmails her into a date! After a moonlit swim, a day sailing with Violet and her son, and the infamous date, Nash finds himself falling for the woman he was convinced he could never have. Can they let go of the pain of the past and believe in second chances? Or will she slip away from him again?

    A witch, a waif, and a warrior woman are all welcome. The hot geology student is not. After walking away from a three-year relationship, Lark Bienvenue needs a place to live. Just until he finishes college. Shacking up with four women, a preschooler, and a guy with head trauma isn't the smartest thing he's ever done, but anything is better than moving back home. Literally, anything. Besides, the house is huge. It should be easy enough to avoid his roommates— and the gorgeous landlady who seems to hate him on sight. Except ignoring a houseful of women is harder than it sounds. And not falling for Stella Mouton? Well, that’s just impossible.