What's the actual last thing you'd ever want your executive assistant to see you doing the morning after you had hot, drunk, angry sex with her in a terrible hotel room? Dancing around your terrible hotel room to "Come and Get Your Love" like Star-Lord in Guardians of the Galaxy - naked? Yeah. Me too. And yet, here we are.

It’s natural to want the one you can’t have. And for as long as I could remember, I’d secretly wanted my brother’s best friend, Jace. He was six years older and always treated me like the sister he never had. Fast forward a decade. We were all in our 20s now. Jace had moved in with my brother, Nathan, and me to help us make ends meet after our parents died. It was just the three of us - an odd family dynamic. Living under our roof, Jace was as bossy and protective as ever. But he certainly didn’t look at me like a sister anymore. That was what made things so complicated.

He's my business partner, my good friend, and the man I've craved for years. But I've resisted the sexy Brit, and I plan to keep up my walls because I've been there, done that, and I know how much it hurts when you let someone into your heart. Then an opportunity comes along for us to snag the business deal of a lifetime. The catch? We need to pretend we're married to pull off this high-stakes deal. 

I'm Vicky, the dog whisperer. (Not really, but that's what my elderly neighbor says whenever I walk her dog, Smuckers.) When she dies, she surprises everybody by leaving a corporation worth billions to Smuckers...and she leaves Smuckers to me. 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.

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.

I’d like to preface this by saying it was never my intention to ever get involved in a workplace romance, let alone get involved with the most surly, agitating, and pompous man I’ve ever met who just so happens to be my new friend’s brother. My intentions were to show students how English and reading books could actually be fun and make a new life for myself in the suburbs of Chicago. 

There are bad ideas and there are good bad ideas. My former fiancé banging a nanny - that was a bad idea. A good girl having her first ever one-night stand with the hot former bad boy she just met after being dumped? Bad idea. When I find out that the nanny's ex-boyfriend is looking for revenge, I should run - far away. But I don’t...because rebounding with Vince is the most awesome bad idea ever. Do I want to help him get back at our exes in this way? Oh. Hell. Yes. I want him to get back at my ex hard. With wild abandon. All night long.

It all starts as pretend. To everyone else, Hunter is the most powerful man in New York. Respected by his associates and feared by his competitors. But to me? He's just my best friend. my sexy-as-hell best friend. It was easy to agree to help him fake a romance. After all, who knows him like I do? Convincing his tight-knit family takes a little more: An unexpected kiss that makes my skin sizzle, my knees go weak. Before I know it, our banter turns to flirting and Hunter's hell-bent on charming me. On our first night together, we barely keep our hands off each other.

Life for Emma isn’t good. The world knows her as Princess Anya on Dark Castle, but then her character gets the axe - literally. The cherry on top is finding her boyfriend in bed with another woman. She needs a break, and sanctuary comes in the form of Rosemont, a gorgeous estate in California promising rest and relaxation. Then she meets the owner’s equally gorgeous grandson, ex-hockey player and current recluse Lucian Osmond, and she sees her own pain and yearning reflected in his eyes. 

It was the perfect plan. I needed a wife - temporarily - in order to inherit the family business. And she needed a favor - the kind that takes nine months to deliver. We had it all worked out, from the no-touching policy on our wedding night (her rule) to the no-falling-in-love decree (mine). She’d marry me, I’d give her the means to have the baby she’d always wanted, and one year later we’d amicably part ways with no hassle, no demands, and certainly no regrets. After all, Bianca DeRossi and I are experts at infuriating one another - we’ve been doing it since we were kids.

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....

She serves me coffee late at night when I come around to write lyrics, but it’s not the caffeine I’ve gotten addicted to. We’ve got the spark, but she’s the only woman in town who seems to be immune to my charms. When it’s time for me to leave for my cross-country tour, I just can’t imagine not seeing her for months. So I offer her a job on the road with me.

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.

My new assignment at work: Test out toys. Yup, that kind. Well, technically, it’s to test the app that controls the toys remotely. One problem? The showgirl who’s supposed to test the hardware (as in, the actual toys) joins a nunnery. Another problem? This project is important to my Russian boss, the broody, mouthwateringly sexy Vlad, a.k.a. the Impaler. There’s only one solution: Test both the software and the hardware myself...with his help.

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.