There are a few things you should know about my brother’s roommate. Wolfie Cox is complicated, and incredibly sexy. Unfortunately, he has an impressive stick lodged so far up his ass, he’s about as emotionally available as a chinchilla. Actually, that might be an insult to the chinchilla community. So, naturally, I want to ride him like a bicycle.

Mr. Santillian, Despite the fact I'm currently living out of your guest room and sleeping with you most nights, I am writing to announce my resignation, effective two weeks from today. In other words, I'll locate someone who is both obscenely overqualified and willing to devote their days to the handful of tasks you are able to wrench from your perfectionist, micromanaging grip.

Finding a good roommate through a classified ad isn’t as easy as it sounds. I was starting to lose hope. Until a knock at my door came, and God answered my prayers. Except...uh...wrong prayer, God. I’d definitely requested the big guy find me a drop-dead gorgeous man on more than one occasion...just not as my roommate. Declan Tate talked me into interviewing him anyway. While he was amusing and charismatic, I wouldn’t have been comfortable living with a man, so I regretfully declined. Then, cupcakes showed up at my door.

If people have polar opposites, Luca Rossi is mine. His butt is in the baseball hall of fame. Mine's comfortably seated in the hall of lame. When he's not snagging fly balls out in center field, he's modeling in shampoo commercials. I once jammed my own finger while stirring cookie dough, and sometimes I forget shampoo is a thing. He's a total cynic when it comes to love. I make a living writing love stories. But after my latest broken engagement (no, I don't want to talk about how many times that's happened), it's clear he's exactly the man I need.

I didn't know I was that person. You know - the one who gets the kids. But that's what the will said. June Lawler: legal guardian. All my sister's kids have ever known is San Francisco, but I have to take them back to our family's small-town farm. The last thing I'm expecting is the dark car rolling down my dirt driveway. The man who steps out of it is as rich as he is rude, and I want nothing to do with him. Even if my traitor body didn't get the message.

I’m not boyfriend material. If a trail of broken hearts and a piss-poor record of failed relationships have taught me anything, it’s this. My buddies are happy to give me shit about my latest breakup from here to next Sunday. Thanks, but I’d rather have a root canal. And a vasectomy. At the same time. Relief comes in an unlikely package - the gorgeous and feisty Maren. She just so happens to be my best friend’s sister, so that’s not awkward at all.

Life threw me a curveball. An adorable eight-pound, four-ounce curveball with her mother’s eyes and my dark hair. I’d like to think my single-dad game is strong, but honestly? I’ve been struggling a little. When a beautiful young woman moves in next door and offers to give me a hand, I jump at the chance to hire her as a nanny. Jessa is amazing with my daughter. She’s also patient, kind, and way too pretty.

Unemployed. Check. Zero prospects. Check. An eviction notice in hand. Check. Life in shambles? Check. Check. Check. Desperate to avoid living on my sister’s couch, I took a job in the one place I shouldn’t. That's where I first saw him. Drew Lawson. Elusive bad boy. Owner of the hottest club in the city. And apparently my new boss. 

Dean Moser is a cocky stock market savant whose friends are all settling down, leaving Boulder's infamous ladies' man all alone. When Norah needs a fake date for her parents' anniversary party, her new silent investor is the perfect guy for the job. It seems like a foolproof plan.... That is until Norah decides to break her biggest rule and lock lips with Dean in the middle of the party to spite her meddling mother.

From NYT and USA Today best-selling author A.L. Jackson comes a friends-to-lovers romance about an unattainable rock star and his best friend’s younger sister.

Matteo Amante. Dangerous. Deadly. And most of all, devastating. He’s the king of the city. Running the Mafia and ruling the East Coast. He’s at war with his cousin, and I am the casualty. There is nothing Matteo won’t do to win. He’ll burn everything down to the ground, my hopes and dreams included. He’s no hero. He’s the handsome devil who will probably kill me in the end. Falling in love with the enemy can destroy me, especially when he is my husband.

The first time I met Hudson Rothschild was at a wedding. I’d received an unexpected invitation to one of the swankiest venues in the city. Hudson was a groomsman and quite possibly the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. He asked me to dance, and our chemistry was off the charts. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with him, considering the wedding I was at. But our connection was intense, and I was having a great time. Though the fun came to a screeching halt when Hudson figured out I wasn’t who I’d said I was.

My trip to London was the first lucky break I've had in years. It came at just the right time, allowing me to escape my sad reality for a bit. And the guy I met on the flight? Perfection. The short week we spent together was filled with raw, unbridled, and passionate nights. But it couldn't last. I'm a single mom with a troubled past and a shady ex. Romance just isn't in the cards for me. Which is why I walked away from Jim and didn't look back. That was before I landed my new job. Before I met the boss. Before I discovered that Mr. James Mitchell, CEO, was my Jim.

My love story all started with a letter. Only it wasn’t from the man I’d eventually fall in love with. It was from his daughter. A sweet little girl named Birdie Maxwell who’d written to the magazine that I worked for. You see, once a year my employer fulfilled a few wishes for readers. Only that column didn’t start up again for months. So I fulfilled some of her wishes myself. It was harmless…so I thought. Until one day I took things too far. While anonymously granting yet another of Birdie’s wishes, I got a look at her father.

The contract with Major League Soccer was supposed to help repair my damaged reputation. Then I discovered that I’d made a deal with the devil: The player I’m supposed to recruit is none other than the bad-boy star Premier League footballer Rush McKenzie. British. Tattooed. Sexy. A man currently at the center of a huge scandal. The goal? To convince him to stay in the States. But what’s wrong with a little fun in the meantime? No strings. No sweet nothings. Just a way to pass the time while we’re both struggling to prove our true selves to the world.