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.

    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.

    Multiple Oh-Oh-Oh as her client—and hell, how is she supposed to pitch a marketing plan when she can remember how easily he briefed her g-spot on an orgasm… or five?West Rykman has one rule: you don’t mix business with pleasure. They can look, but unless they’re shoving a dollar inside his pants, they can’t touch. He learned that lesson the hard way two years ago.He had no idea the flame-haired vixen with a penchant for hot, kinky sex and a mouth that would make a hooker cry would be the one to bend—and break—his rule.She’s sworn off men after ten too many heartbreaks.He’s determined he’ll never lose it all for a woman again.She’s pretty screwed.He’s really screwed.And not in the we’re-not-sleeping-tonight way…

    No matter what ingenious schemes Indy used to capture his attention, Lee never showed an interest and Indy finally gave up. Now Indy's employee, Rosie, has lost a bag of diamonds and bad guys are shooting at him. When Indy gets involved, Lee is forced to help. Complicating matters, Lee has decided he's interested, Indy's decided she's not. But she can't seem to keep Lee out of her life when she's repeatedly stun gunned, kidnapped and there are car bombs exploding (not to mention she's finding dead bodies).Indy's best bet is to solve the mystery of the diamonds before Lee. Lee's challenge is to keep Indy alive and, at the same time, win back her heart.

     After just five months of dating Janie, Quinn—former Wendell and unapologetic autocrat—is ready to propose marriage. In fact, he’s more than ready. If it were up to Quinn, he would efficiently propose, marry, and beget Janie with child all in the same day—thereby avoiding the drama and angst that accompanies the four stages of pre-matrimony: engagement, meeting the parents, bachelor/bachelorette party, and overblown, superfluous wedding day traditions. But Janie, much to Quinn’s dismay, tosses a wrench in his efficacious endeavors and challenges him to prove his devotion by going through the matrimonial motions, no matter how minute and mundane. Will Quinn last until the wedding day? Or will he yield to his tyrant impulses? This book is not a standalone. It is the sequel to ‘Neanderthal Seeks Human,’ and is book #1.5 in the Knitting in the City series.

    Unfortunately, she stumbles on the wrong kind, witnessing a mob hit. To protect her, she's entered into the Witness Protection Program with by-the-book Special Agent Jake Ward as her chaperone.When the location of their safe house is compromised, Jake stashes Emily deep in the Texas backwoods. The city-girl might be safe from the Mafia, but she has to contend with a psychotic rooster, a narcoleptic dog, crazy cowboys, and the danger of losing her heart to the one man she can't have.Jake's as hot as he is infuriating, and she can't help but push all his buttons to loosen him up. Their mutual, sizzling sexual attraction poses a dilemma: Jake's determined to keep her safe and out of the wrong hands; she's determined to get into the right ones—his.Each book in the Tangled in Texas series is a standalone, full-length story that can be enjoyed out of order. Series Order:Book #1 Rules of ProtectionBook #2 Playing With Fire

    They aren’t supposed to be with someone like him.But after a crazy Vegas weekend celebrating her college graduation—and terrified of the future path she knows is a cop-out—Mia Holland makes the wildest decision of her life: follow Ansel Guillaume—her sweet, filthy fling—to France for the summer and just…play.When feelings begin to develop behind the provocative roles they take on, and their temporary masquerade adventures begin to feel real, Mia will have to decide if she belongs in the life she left because it was all wrong, or in the strange new one that seems worlds away.

    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...

    Not that I'm interested in him in that way. Attorneys can't go around sleeping with their clients. Not even if he is the most beautiful man I've ever met and so ridiculously smart he makes my nerdy-girl heart sigh.Besides, he has too much on the line to risk taking a chance on the insane chemistry building between us. We both do.I've always followed the rules. Too bad he makes me want to break each and every one of them.All About the D is a romantic comedy and a full-length standalone. Due to adult situations and sexual content, it's recommended for readers over the age of 18.

    Done.Do not continue to text. Do not flirt.A wrong number shouldn't be the first person on your mind in the morning, or the last at night...and you're definitely not supposed to talk them into buying a baby goat.Because that would be weird.When Zach Hastings and I get into a wrong-number mix-up, we don't follow the rules. We keep texting and flirting, because he's wicked funny and perfectly nerdy and a wonderful distraction.I'm not looking for love, and Zach definitely had the wrong number.But maybe...Maybe he's the right guy.

    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.

    I, Ainsley James, am crazy.Desperate and crazy. It’s the only explanation as to why I’m nauseous, standing outside Maverick Lexington’s door.I mean, it’s possible the stories about his deck of playing cards—with the words IOU scrawled across the back—are just rumors of the ruthless quid pro quo deals he barters. But the flutters in my stomach know better. Maverick is as cold as they come. But, I need one of those cards. I NEED to owe Maverick Lexington a favor… Whatever the terms, I’m willing to pay. Because, at this point, I have nothing left to lose.

    Her lips? Hell yeah. A few other parts of her body? You better f*cking believe it. But her heart? Nope. Not even a little. Until it does…a lot.Forget I said that. I don’t have feelings for anyone. They were all ripped out of me when I was a kid.This thing between Laney and me could be great. But we have to follow certain rules. We have a good time—no dates, no sleepovers, no expectations. When one of us is ready for something new or if she starts getting too attached, we move on with no hard feelings. Win-win, and everybody’s happy.I came into this thinking it would be the same thing as it had always been and that she was like any other woman. It isn’t. She isn’t. But how do I tell her she deserves someone better - someone who can love her, someone who’s not broken - if I can’t seem to let her go? Laney I finally get it. And to think, it only took my heart being pried out of my chest and stomped on five separate times by men who claimed they loved me. That’s got to be a record, right?Let me put it as simply as I can.Fairy tales aren’t real. Love is a lie. And, at least in my experience, sex never comes with a happy ending. Fortunately, I still have a battery-operated boyfriend who’ll never fall out of love with me. I won’t walk in on him in bed with another woman either. Nope. As long as I keep supplying him with fresh batteries, BOB’s only purpose in life is to make me happy. And, damn it, I deserve to be happy. I’m a nice person. I work hard. And, most importantly, I've learned an important lesson: To never, ever let a man near my heart again. Unfortunately, some people never learn.***Be ready for a lot of laughs, a bunch of swoons, and a few tears from this standalone romantic comedy.******DARKER WATER is a standalone contemporary fairytale retelling inspired by The Frog Prince***

    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.

    Point is, she cost me my two best friends ten years ago. It’s payback time, and I’m going to make her life hell.When I’m not banging her silly and myself stupid.I need to get my head back in business, because getting off is great, but "He was a man who had sex, and lots of it, and in the worst locations, with the woman of his nightmares" isn’t the inscription I want on my tombstone.Even if it’s true.AmbrosiaThere are three things I hate:Bratwurst in any form, my neighbors boinking loudly like farm animals at 3 AM, and Chase Jett.Mostly I hate Chase Jett. It’s been ten years since he took my virginity—I’d make a bratwurst joke, but the unfortunate truth is that it would have to be a bratbest joke, and yes, it kills me to admit it—and now he’s not only a billionaire, he’s also my new boss.Turns out our hate is mutual. And this kind of hate is horrifically twisted, filthy, and banging hot.I just might have to hate him forever.MISTER McHOTTIE is 45,000 gloriously hilarious, hot, sexy words that your mother warned you about, complete with an organic happy-ever-after (or seven), a Bratwurst Wagon, ill-advised office pranks, and no cheating or cliffhangers.