For one fantastic evening, at a masquerade party in the heart of Manhattan, I’m not the millionaire everyone wants a piece of. Fine—multimillionaire. But who’s counting all those commas? Not me, and not the most intriguing woman I've ever met, who happens to like dancing, witty banter, and hot, passionate up-against-the-wall sex as much as I do.
There's no need for names or business cards. And that’s why I’m eager to get to know her more, since my mystery woman seems to like me for me, rather than for my huge…bank account.
Everything’s coming up aces. Until the next day when things get a little complicated. (Newsflash — a lot complicated.)
He's charming, brilliant, an incredible lover, and right now I want to stab fate in the eyeballs.
I've had one goal I've been working toward, and lo and behold, my mystery man is the very person who stands between me and my dream job. A job I desperately need since my hard-knock life has nothing in common with his star-kissed one.
But it’s time to put that fairytale night behind me, and focus on learning what makes him tick. Too bad it turns out his quirks are my quirks, and his love affair with New York matches mine.
And as we spend our days together, I discover something else that feels like a cruel twist of fate — I’m falling for this naughty prince charming, and that’s not an ending I can write to our story.
Picture this - I’m ready to win back the love of my life, and I’m going big this time. We’re talking boom box, sing her name in the rain, let the whole damn neighborhood know I'm good and ready this time around. After all, if you're going to grand gesture the ever-loving hell out of a second chance, you need to pull out all the stops.
There’s only one little problem.
My college girlfriend isn't the one who shows up when I play my "I'll do anything to win you back" tune.
The woman who flings open the second-floor window tells me my ex doesn’t live here anymore. But she'll help me win her back. Anything for romance, anything for a guy so willing to go big for love. And that's what I want at first. Until I get to know my new “romance coach” and discover she’s funny, clever, and keeps me on my toes. And boy, do I ever need that.
Now I don't want to win anyone else’s heart. I want the woman who's been helping me all along.
Trouble is - she thinks I'm in love with someone else, and when we take off on a road trip, everything I think I know about women is about to be unzipped and turned inside out.
I’ll say this about Christian — he made one hell of a first impression.When I first saw the strapping man, he was doing handstands naked on a dock along the canal. His crown jewels were far more entertaining than anything else I’d seen on the boat tour, so I did what any curious woman would do — I took his photo. I might have looked at the shot a few dozen times. Little did I know I’d meet him again, a year later, at a secret garden bar in the heart of the city, where I’d learn that his mind and his mouth were even more captivating. But given the way my heart had been trampled, I wanted only a simple deal — No strings. No expectations.
The owner of the biggest underground casino.
He's the kind of man who gets what he wants. He's got the best poker face in the world.
Now he wants me.
When things become too intense, I hit the brakes and make a run for it.
But one problem...he won't let me go.
Now I belong to Bosco Roth.
I say—bring it on.
As long as Trouble comes in a package as delicious as Rafe’s, I’m ready to climb on his Harley and ride all night long—and I’m not just talking about his motorcycle.
I can hide out until the scandal with my evil ex blows over AND have a wild rebound at the same time. Besides, I’ve got no heart left to break. My ex made sure of that.
As long as Rafe and I keep our no-strings fling from our families, what can possibly go wrong?
This is so damned wrong.
I don’t do drama, and this thing with Carrie Haverford has Bad News written all over it. After one red-hot kiss, I know I should cut and run.
Instead I take her home, take her in her car, take her to the beach and make her scream louder than the crashing waves. And then I take her so far into my heart I don’t see how I’m ever going to let her go.
They say the bigger and badder they are, the harder they fall. But when I fall for a girl with third degree love burns, how can I convince her that fire is a good thing?
This sexy Standalone romance will make you laugh, melt, and fall madly in love.
That smoking hot one-night stand with a former rock star? Turns out he's my son's new music teacher. Oops.
But I didn't know that the night I met Campbell. All I knew was he played my body the same way he played a guitar — like he owned it.
My libido is still high-fiving me after being self-served for too many years, and we’re both ready for another night or two of fun, especially since we don’t just have chemistry in bed — we connect over everything.
That is, until I learn he’s the man who’ll be coming to my house twice a week to teach my son — the best music lessons money can buy.
Time to turn down the volume on our shenanigans. Only that’s easier said than done.
I can rock a guitar solo in front of thousands, I can write chart-topping tunes, and I can absolutely stop thinking about my student’s mother naked.
After all, I’m a single parent too, and I know what it’s like to put your kid first. That’s what I do every damn day.
Trouble is, now that I’ve had Mackenzie, it’s hard — and I do mean hard — to stop wanting her. Harder too when I get to know her, and learn she’s an awesome mom, a great friend, and, oh yeah, she happens to get along perfectly with my daughter.
All we have to do is set some rules. No dating, no nookie when the kids are around, and no one gets hurt.
It’s all working out beautifully. Until we start breaking the rules, one by one.
Making music with her in the bedroom is easy. But will we be more than just a real good time when the music stops?
I was that girl.
You know, the highly intoxicated chick celebrating her thirtieth birthday with her two best friends—who are happily married. And the more I drank, the more I wanted to do something reckless to celebrate.
By reckless, I mean the sexy and alluring man dressed in a business suit standing near the bar. You know his type—tall, dark, handsome. I was sure he was out of my league, but I’d had just enough alcohol that things like that no longer seemed to matter. I’m not fat, mind you, but you can tell I like french fries, so there’s that.
He took me home, and I enjoyed the hottest birthday sex of my life. Well, until it came to a screeching and rather unwelcome halt.
There’s nothing quite like being interrupted mid-ride with a little voice asking, “What are you doing to my daddy?”
Just kill me now . . . or so I thought.
Come to find out, the man I rode like a bull at the rodeo is my new landlord.