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.

    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.

    But William's been in LA for three years, and Neve's been slimming down and re-inventing herself so that when he returns, he'll fall head over heels in love with the new, improved her.So she's not that interested in other men. Until her sister Celia points out that if Neve wants William to think she's an experienced love-goddess and not the fumbling, awkward girl he left behind, then she'd better get some, well, experience.What Neve needs is someone to show her the ropes, someone like Celia's colleague Max. Wicked, shallow, sexy Max. And since he's such a man-slut, and so not Neve's type, she certainly won't fall for him. Because William is the man for her... right?

    Fans of Maya Banks, Melody Anne and J. Kenner will be dazzled by the scorching-hot chemistry of this New York Times bestseller.You met the six bachelors of the Billionaire Boys Club... Now it's time to pair up some filthy-rich billionaires with lucky ladies in waiting and enjoy the spoils... Marjorie Ivarsson is the picture of naivete. A hardworking waitress raised by her grandmother, an evening playing bingo is her sort of socialising. But when she's invited to be a bridesmaid at her friend Bronte's wedding, she enters a whole new world. Whisked away to the billionaire groom's private island, Marjorie is awe-struck by the glitz and glamour. But what dazzles her most is notorious playboy and hot-shot TV producer Robert Cannon. After Marjorie saves Robert from drowning in the island's turquoise lagoon, she can't help but feel drawn to him. But she's not the only woman intrigued, and with his wild and womanising ways, they couldn't be more wrong for each other. With the blistering attraction between them becoming hard to ignore, and the idyllic, irresistibly romantic island as their playground - will opposites attract?

    Are you ready to meet the Billionaire Bad Boys?Blind dates? Online dating profiles? Been there, done that.Georgia Cummings has zero luck with dating, and the era of the internet is not her friend. No matter how fast she runs, how many corners she turns, she can’t find her way out of this weird, alternate universe where men think d*ck pics are a replacement for small talk and getting to know a girl. One more crotch selfie and she might write men off for good… But why can’t she stop fantasizing about him?Kline Brooks is the quintessential billionaire bad boy—dark, styled, short hair, muscles for days, and a panty-dropping smile. Except—he isn’t.As his employee, he won’t touch her with a ten foot pole. But she won’t touch him either.Too bad their hormones missed the memo.Disclaimer:If you’re the type of woman who prefers crotch selfies to small talk, this book isn’t for you.If you enjoy random men you’ve never met filling up your inbox with dirty words and p*rn—for reasons focused more towards diddling your donut than laughing at the absurdity—this book isn’t for you. If you HATE laughing, this book isn’t for you.If you want your male leads to grunt, thrust like jack rabbits, and have one-track minds that prefer a nice pair of t*ts to brains every hour of every day for the rest of forever, well, then, this book still isn’t for you. But.If you enjoy a good swoon, a hearty laugh, witty banter, and some hot as f*@% f*@%ing, then consider Georgia Cummings your Girl Friday and Kline Brooks your next irresistible book boyfriend.

    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.

    Discovering the love of your life is having an affair on your wedding day is bad enough. Finding out it's with his best man is another thing all together. Just when this runaway bride has nowhere left to turn, a handsome stranger offers her a broad, muscular shoulder to cry on. Vaughan is the exact opposite of the picture perfect, respected businessmen she's normally drawn to. This former musician-turned-bartender is rough around the edges and is facing his own crossroads. But Lydia's already tried Mr. Right and discovered he's all wrong--maybe it's time to give Mr. Right Now a chance.After all, what's wrong with getting dirty?Dirty is the first book in the Dive Bar series from bestselling author Kylie Scott.

    She also has no filter.”“He’s no southern gentlemen.”“I had one last season to prove my worth.”“I’d never seen a game.”“He told me he was a player.”“She told me she was a lesbian.”“But you fell in love with me anyway.”“Yeah, baby, I totally did.”

    You can call it a "locational" hazard, if you will.That’s Tomahawk for you.We rank people based on just how crazy they are. And the four craziest families in town are called the Wild Ones. I’m on the bottom tier of those, so technically I’m not as crazy as the other Wild Ones. In fact, if it wasn’t for my brothers and their endless antics, I wouldn’t be considered a Wild One at all. Ahem. Sure. We’ll go with that.Anyway, I have a best friend who endures it all with me. Benson Nolans is my one, constant favorite person.Without him, I’d probably go really crazy, and not the fun kind. It’d be ridiculous, after three years of a flawless friendship, to mess that all up by falling for him.I mean, even if we did get a little too close one night, it’d be reckless endangerment. Even if we did suddenly feel the chemistry that’s always been there and stop toeing the line, it’d be a foolish risk to take.It’d be stupid to start hoping a really fun, but completely irrational, night with zero inhibitions might accidentally happen.Really stupid… Right?*NO cliffhanger*Stand-alone book *Sexual Content*Adult language*Completely, 100% crazy

    But not when it's the bright, glaring stripe staring back at me on the pregnancy test. Then, pink is the colour of major oops, of morning sickness, of boyfriends who seemed decent but now are part of some Jerk Witness Protection Program. Still, I've got a few things going for me-bitter humour, a divine right to eat till I'm the size of Marlon Brando, and good friends who've managed to get me a job interview with one Damien Sharpton: in need of a personal assistant, and some say, a good, swift kick in the arse. If you want to make a lasting impression, by all means, toss your cookies in your future boss's wastebasket, which is located directly between his excruciatingly sexy legs. Apparently, Mr. Gorgeous-But-Unbearably-Anti-Social must like personal assistants who violate his trash can, because I got the job. And if I can avoid him via text messaging for the next seven months of health insurance, everything will be just fine. Except that he's just asked-no, insisted-that I go with him on a business trip to the Caribbean. Gulp. Ordinarily, this would be cause for celebration. Ordinarily, I'd shave my legs, pack my bikini, revel in day-glo drinks and my seething lust for Mr. Swarthy-And-Secretive. But there's nothing ordinary about this situation...which means it could be absolutely extraordinary...

    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***

    It doesn’t feel wrong. It just...feels.EJ Cunning, an art history major, dates musicians. Foster Blake, a chemical engineering major, can’t sing a tune. They’re not each other’s type. They’re coworkers.Then, one night leads to sex—sex between friends—which leads to an agreement. It all seems so simple—but nothing ever is.Many layers build a person’s facade.Look into the depths for what’s hidden within.It’s more than water. It’s a story—a living and breathing substance beyond the reflective surface.

    So of course she isn't interested in legendary team captain Alex Waters or his pretty, beat-up face and rock-hard six-pack abs. But when Alex inadvertently obliterates Violet's misapprehension regarding the inferior intellect of hockey players, he becomes much more than just a hot body with the face to match. Suffering from a complete lapse in judgment, Violet discovers just how good Alex is with the hockey stick in his pants.Violet believes her night of orgasmic magic with Alex is just that: one night. But Alex starts to call. And text. And email and send extravagant - and quirky - gifts. Suddenly he's too difficult to ignore and nearly impossible not to like. The problem is, the media portrays Alex as a total player, and Violet doesn't want to be part of the game.

    Two tiny problems: #1--she's five feet eleven inches of rock-solid girl power, and #2--she's cursed with four alpha male older brothers.While doing a story on local heroes, she meets a hunky doctor and things start to look up. Now there's only one problem: Trevor Meade, her first love and the one man she's never quite gotten over--although he seems to have gotten over her just fine.Yet the more time she spends with Dr. Perfect, the better Trevor looks. But even with the in-your-face competition, the irresistible Trevor just can't seem to see Chastity as anything more than just one of the guys....

    I mean, just because my last boyfriend tried to kill me and left a bit of a scar on my neck, then forced me to move across the country and legally change my name to Reese Randall to escape him, does not mean— Oh, who am I kidding? For a freshman in college, I have to have the worst dating track record ever. It’s no wonder love is the last thing on my mind when Mason Lowe enters my life. But the chemistry between us is like bam! Our connection defies logic. And he’s just so freaking hot. Being around him makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt before. I even like bickering with him. He could be my soul mate...except for one teeny tiny glitch.He's a gigolo.Boy, do I know how to pick them.