Free spirits with personal boundary issues, excessive quirks, or general squeamishness need not apply. Salary negotiable. Confidentiality required.Workaholic billionaire Sawyer Carlyle may have joked he needed a “buffer” from their marriage-obsessed mom, but he didn’t need a waiting room filled with “candidates” to further distract him. (Thanks, bro.) But when a sexy job applicant shooes his mom and the socialite in tow out of his office, Sawyer sees the genius of the plan. And the woman. In fact, Miss Clover Lee might just get the fastest promotion in history, from buffer to fake fiancé…This “free-spirit” might look like hot sunshine and lickable rainbows, but she negotiates like a pitbull. Before Sawyer knows what hit him, he’s agreed to give up Friday nights for reality tv, his Saturdays for flea markets (why buy junk still baffles him), his Tuesdays and Thursdays for “date nights” (aka panty-losing opportunities if he plays his cards right). And now she wants lavender bath salts and tulips delivered every Monday? Yup, she’s just screwing with him. Good thing she’s got this non-negotiatable six-weeks-and-she’s-gone rule or Sawyer may have just met his match…

    The blue-eyed man sitting next to me, even better. He was suave and intelligent. We talked and laughed, and something clicked. Fate took over and the plane was grounded, and we had an unexpected stopover for the night.With no plans, we made our own. We danced and laughed our way around Boston and had a night of crazy passion that no woman would ever forget. That was twelve months ago, and I haven’t heard from him—until today. I started a new job and met the CEO. You can imagine my surprise to see those naughty blue eyes dance with delight when he saw me across the mahogany desk. But I’m not that carefree girl anymore. My life has changed, I have responsibilities. I just got an email. He wants to see me in his office for a private meeting at 8:00 a.m. Naughty blue eyes have no place in the workplace. What kind of private meeting does he have in mind?

    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.

    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.

    Not to mention I’m packing a sizable bulge below the belt. It’s a combination that drops panties on a regular basis. Yay, me, right?But my cock, troublemaker that he is, has been confined to my trousers by my business partner. A concession I agreed to, and one that’s never been hard to enforce until Emery moves in across the hall. She’s smart, young, determined, and sexy as hell. I want a taste. I won’t stop until I’m buried deep inside the succulent new-in-town brunette.After being warned about my past, she does her best to steer clear, but I’m about to show her that underneath it all, I’m a guy with a heart of gold and a cock of steel.My name is Hayden Oliver, and this is my story.SCREWED is standalone romantic comedy by New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author Kendall Ryan.

    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.

    You hate girls like me. The privileged blonde who skips her Ivy League classes when she's had too many Soho martinis. The one draped on the asshole's arm because he drives a Bugati and screws like a champ.I was that girl. I loved being that girl. Then, my door was broken in. Literally. And in that moment? Everything changed.

    This hot. This difficult.Aaric Christos was a guy who protected me. Wanted me. Maybe even loved me.That man is gone.In his place is the most powerful real estate tycoon in the city.He’s a cold, ruthless, aggressive businessman.The only one who can save me and my startup from ruin.It takes every ounce of courage to put my pride aside and ask for his help.I didn’t expect him to offer it easily.And he doesn’t.Instead, he vets me harder than he’s vetted anyone.Don’t invest in what you don’t know, he says.He's assessing every piece of me, to the point I've never felt so bare.I yearn for the boy I once knew, whose touch once craved me.Putting it all on the line will be worth it, I tell myself.Until I realize—too late—that some risks are not worth taking.

    I know it sounds crazy, and daredevil tendencies aside, I definitely went too far to get his attention. But you haven’t seen him.Colton Wolfe. My boss.Tall, dark, and handsome, with the sexiest British accent I’ve ever heard. His only flaw? That he’s completely oblivious to what’s been right in front of him all along.Me.Well, he was until a few minutes ago.Remember those good old days? Before I got caught making "nice" with the copy machine, and before I was totally getting fired?But wait. Maybe I’m not.If I can take on the biggest dare of all. Making Colton Wolfe fall in love with me. The Dare is a full-length romance with a HEA and no cliffhanger.

    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.

    What Amanda Newland wants is to graduate at the top of her class, as well as finally finish her novel and prove to her family that writing is a respectful career.What Blake and Amanda don’t want is to be paired up with each other for their final project, but that’s exactly what they both get when they’re forced to collaborate on a writing piece. Since Amanda thinks Blake is a pushy asshole (with a panty-melting smirk and British accent) and Blake thinks Amanda has a stick up her ass (though it’s a brilliant ass), they fight tooth and nail until they discover they write well together. They also may find each other really attractive, but that’s neither here nor there.When their writing project turns out to be a success, the two of them decide to start up a secret partnership using a pen name, infiltrating the self-publishing market in the lucrative genre of erotica. Naturally, with so much heat and passion between the pages, it’s not long before their dirty words become a dirty reality. Sure, they still fight a lot, but at least there’s make-up sex now.But even as they start to fall hard for each other, will their burgeoning relationship survive if their scandalous secret is exposed? Or are happily-ever-afters just a work of fiction?

     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.

    The money doesn’t matter to him, but the company is his life. And then his eccentric mother wills it all to her tiny dog. I’m Vicky, the dog whisperer. (Not really, but that’s what my elderly neighbor always says.) When she dies, she surprises everybody by leaving a corporation worth billions to her dog, Smuckers. With me as his spokesperson. Suddenly I go from running my Etsy store to sitting in an elegant Wall Street boardroom with Smuckers in my lap. And my neighbor’s son, Henry Locke, aka New York’s most eligible bachelor, glaring across the table at me. Rumor has it Henry’s a business genius who’s as talented in the bedroom as he is in the boardroom. Sure, he’s gorgeous. Sex-in-a-seven-thousand dollar suit. But…He’s arrogant and infuriating. He refuses to listen to me when I insist I didn’t con his mother. He thinks he can bully me, buy me off, control me, even seduce me. Henry may have the women of Manhattan eating out of the palm of his hand, but I'm so over entitled rich guys who think they own the world. No way will his wicked smile be charming ME out of my panties. His wicked...devastating...impossible-to-resist smile. Oh well, who needs panties anyway? ****************A sexy enemies-to-lovers romantic comedy standalone!*Formerly entitled Most Eligible Bastard*

     He’s practically a recluse. When his assistant goes on maternity leave, Amy Walker virtual assistant extraordinaire arrives to save the day. Or does she? Amy is inquisitive and far too optimistic. She isn’t impressed with Jackson at all. Is she even real? They can’t stand each other. Unfortunately, they can’t seem to resist each other, either. Soon, their work relationship starts to feel like something more… Even when Amy meets her dream man, she can’t seem to stop thinking about her annoying online boss. And the woman who ’s never fallen in love before, finds herself falling for two men. Both of them have everything she’s ever wanted. But she has to choose one. Can Jackson convince her that he can be everything that she needs? Or will her past come back to haunt them and ruin her chance at love? Note: Contains a grumpy, workaholic tech CEO with a guarded heart, and a virtual assistant whose skills border on diabolical. Also, two cats named Ramen and Sushi.

    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?