I’m almost positive you were cussing me out, and if I understood a lick of Spanish, I’d have (shut you up with a kiss) told you exactly what I thought about your meddling, even if you are her teacher. In fact, I’d like to schedule a (date over dinner and wine) parent-teacher conference to discuss our differing views on raising the youth of today (so we are on the same page when we have children, preferably together).  

Three things Lynsey Jones knows about the hot doctor: he's grouchy, an arrogant jerk, and strangely obsessed with pie. Three things Dr. Josh Richardson knows: He doesn't talk about his past, he doesn't do relationships, and the crazy girl in the hospital cafeteria who ate a fistful of French silk pie...is annoyingly irresistible. After a chance meetup at a bar and a heated cab ride together, things come to a head. Three months later, the weird cafeteria stalker who crept out of Josh's house like a thief in the night winds up as his patient in the ER after her Tinder date from hell.

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.

When I left that night, I had every intention of coming back to you. To us. But no matter how hard I wish for what I want, there are some things in life that aren't meant to be. I don't expect you to understand. You've already moved on, living your life. But mine ended that night, nine years ago, and I still can't let you go. Not sure I ever will. I regret so many things, but hurting you, I'll never forgive myself. I'm sorry for...everything.

Everly Dalton is a walking, talking, martini-drinking dating disaster. Forget kissing frogs. She can’t even get past the first date. But at work, she’s a badass - the longest-running assistant billionaire Shepherd Calloway has ever had. Her coworkers wonder how she handles the big bad wolf and never gets bit.

A woman in the business of love that’s never been in a real relationship. Check. That’s me. Nessa Night. Now I know what you’re thinking. That sounds like a stripper name. Hold up. Let me explain. It’s my radio talk-show name. My incognito way of helping the world love deeper and more often. Though my love life is like a 10-year-old fall leaf trapped between the pages of an old journal.

He's a billionaire heir. A grump supreme. Hater of people. Bigger hater of peopling with people. And my new fake boyfriend. "Emotionally unavailable" doesn’t even begin to describe Hayes Rutherford. He has more defenses than a nuclear missile silo. And he’s the ultimate catch of the century. At least, according to his bank statement. My job’s simple: Keep all interested ladies away from the walled-off heir, by pretending to be his one true love. But you know what they say about fake-dating a billionaire: It’s all fun and games, until the scandals start.

My resignation letter was rejected by my boss with his sexy, trademark smirk and an "I highly suggest you read the fine print of your contract...." So, I did. And now I've realized that unless I fake my death, poison him, or find a way to renegotiate my impossible contract, I'm stuck working under one of the cockiest and most ruthless bosses in New York. Then again, I thought that was the case until he called me late last night with an emergency proposition....

They say that all men are created equal. Well, that’s a blatant lie! I know, because I met God's gift to women in Vegas; I pretended he was my husband to get rid of another man. He took our fake marriage seriously, and it became his personal goal to consummate. He spoke to me in French, and I lied to him in German. His laughter was addictive. But I thought what happens in Vegas would stay in Vegas. Until it didn't.

A sizzling friends-to-lovers novella about a marriage of convenience - and a jaw-dropping misunderstanding - between a notorious bad boy and the one woman he’s always wanted, but can’t have. 

Things that suck on my wedding day - walking in on my groom kissing another woman 20 minutes before the ceremony. Things that suck worse? The woman he’s kissing is my mom. I head straight for the bowling alley bar down the street and ask for a double. And in walks a deliciously charming local football hero - Harlan Taylor. Yes, I’ll take another drink in the form of a one-night stand with this hunk of a man. In the morning, he asks if I want to get together again. More rebound nookie? Yes please!

Want to know a secret? It's about that girl over there. Don’t look, but she’s the one in the power suit with the long, black hair and the serious expression. The one I’m about to go on a date with. Yeah, according to her, she “accidentally” donated an obscene amount of money to my charity - The Lineup - to win said date, but I found out the truth.

I’ve made lots of mistakes. But never one like this. Back in high school, the girl next door spent a serendipitous night in my arms. But she wasn’t my type or really up to my level. So I walked away not knowing her secret - our secret. Years later, I’m still at the top of my game, ruling my own chunk of the world. She walks into my office a different woman. Strong, sexy, and dead set on revenge. I need to walk away again, but I can’t. She’s a different person, and yet, all the things that first had me taking a chance with her pull me back in - deeper this time. 

He’s my brother’s best friend, the hot single dad next door. And one accidental sext later, my massive crush on him is no longer a secret. It’s my own damn fault. I’m 30 years old, for heaven’s sake. I’m a kindergarten teacher and a (reasonably) responsible adult. I should know better than to get tipsy and draft a fake text listing all the dirty things I wish Officer Cole Mitchell would do to me.  I wasn’t supposed to hit send. And he wasn’t supposed to see it.

Maybe, if we met at another time - another life - he could’ve been mine. Maybe, if I were older. Maybe, if he wasn’t my brother’s best friend. Maybe, if he wasn’t my teacher. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. Having my dirty little secret living down the hall had me obsessing over alternate endings and happily ever afters. I’d never wanted someone so badly, but his hot and cold behavior was giving me emotional whiplash.