At 35, Marcus Carelli has it all: wealth, power, and the kind of looks that leave women breathless. A self-made billionaire, he heads one of the largest hedge funds on Wall Street and can take down major corporations with a single word. The only thing he’s missing? A wife who’d be as big of an achievement as the billions in his bank account.

I was upgraded to first class on a flight from London to New York. The food, champagne, and service were impeccable. The blue-eyed man sitting next to me, even better. He was suave and intelligent. We talked and laughed, and something clicked. Fate took over and the plane was grounded, and we had an unexpected stopover for the night. With no plans, we made our own. 

Two hearts. One Wedding. Five Days. My name is Allison Jenkins and I need a fiancé for five days. I know how desperate that sounds, because it is. Our group of friends from college are going to Cancún for a five day destination wedding of our mutual friend this spring. Enter my coworker, Jocko Brewer. Handsome playboy and charmer of the ladies. This fiancé role-playing bit?Well, we both start taking it just a wee bit too seriously. Who would have thought that so much could happen in five days?

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.

I’ve always wanted the fairy tale wedding. Not for the princess perfect dress or big party, but for papa. My grandfather. The only father figure I’ve ever known. It’s his dying wish to walk me down the aisle. Gee, no pressure. But I can grant that wish. I just have to fake being head over heels in love with Ross Andrews, my best friend's big brother whom I embarrassingly crushed on all through high school. Handsome. Knockout sexy. Arrogant jerk extraordinaire. Our childish pranks and tit-for-tat battles were legendary.

The world’s sexiest firefighter is about to get a second chance with the virgin next door.... He’s bossy, arrogant, and so ridiculously hot that he should come with a warning label and a pair of flame-retardant coveralls. He’s also the boy who broke my heart when we were in high school. I want to move in next door to Ryan O’Dell the way I want to be the virgin gamer geek suddenly in charge of running my sister’s sex-toy factory. Too bad both are written in my stars.

On the eve of her 30th birthday, sports agent Bess Beringer is ready to make some changes. Armed with a five-year plan - indexed and color coded - she’ll tackle her personal life with the same zeal that she brings to her successful agency. A big, tall, ripped hunk of hockey player who’s just been traded to the Brooklyn Bruisers is not a part of that plan. Mark “Tank” Tankiewicz has a lot of baggage. He’s a ride-or-die loner with a bad reputation. He’s on the rebound. He’s also the sexiest thing on two legs, and for some crazy reason it’s Bess that he wants. 

Large and in charge? Honey, I'm the biggest, baddest, mother pucking-est machine to ever own the ice. I shoot. I score. In and out of the rink. I don't come early, but I come often, if you know what I mean. And I always leave the ladies wanting more. Until that chick last night. I'm no one-thrust wonder, and you're damn right I'm going to prove to her I can do better. But every time I think I'm finally on my way back into her pants, she one-ups and out-balls me. I should cut my losses, lick my wounds, and walk away. But Zeus Berger doesn't walk away from anything.

Boss of Me is a stand-alone workplace, enemies to lovers, military romance with a badass alpha boss and the feisty woman who steals his heart. No cheating. No cliffhangers.

I had a plan to escape the friend zone. Step one: sneak into Reed’s room. Step two: sleep with him. But when the lights turned on, it wasn’t familiar blue eyes I saw. These were dark, angry, and full of demons. And they belonged to Reed’s much-older brother. Four years later, Nash Prescott is no longer the help’s angry son. I’m no longer the town’s prized princess. At 22, I’m broke, in need of a job. At 32, he’s a billionaire, in need of revenge.

I’m a full-time single dad to three daughters and CFO at Cloverleigh Farms. I don’t have time to fall in love - I’m too busy trying to run a business, keep the red socks out of the white laundry, and get the damn pillowcases on without owing a dollar to the swear jar. Sure, Frannie Sawyer is beautiful and sweet, but she’s 27, the boss’ daughter, and my new part-time nanny - which means she’s completely off-limits. It’s bad enough I can’t stop fantasizing about her. What kind of jerk would I be if I acted on the impulse to kiss her?

Jasmine Lee is screwed. She can barely afford her rent, much less her father’s medical bills. She needs cash - fast - or she’s going to lose her dad. Enter Shepard Marlowe. The tech mogul needs a wife, and he’s willing to pay. A million dollars for a year under his beck and call. Her freedom for her father’s life. It’s a good deal. Even if the Shepard is a beast. Angry, guarded, overbearing...and more irresistible than Prince Charming. How is it possible she craves someone so merciless?

Mission: Survive my best friend's wedding, where I must play nice with my ex and his perfect new girlfriend. Strategy: Bring the hottest fake boyfriend on the planet. Target: Grady Rock. Master baker. Dimples. Muscles. The unicorn of fake boyfriends. Complication: Wyatt Morgan. My brother's best friend. My sworn enemy. Military man. Sexy as hell single dad. The man I let into my panties for one night of hot hate sex after my ex dumped me. 

It all started with a sexy selfie. Texted to the wrong number. Oops. Not my finest moment - but I have nothing to be ashamed of. She thought I was no better, and I quote, than the knuckle-dragging douchebags she was never dating again. It was a stupid dare from a girl I’d met online, but since she’d given me a fake number, I didn’t feel bad that my interests were suddenly focused elsewhere - on the fiery and sharp-tongued Peyton that I found myself sparring with over text. The following day, my case of mistaken identity came back to bite me in the banana.

He has the muscles of Adonis, an ego bigger than the sun, and a very clear desire to get back in my pants. Which would be fantastic if he weren't a SEAL and I wasn't a criminal. Although, I prefer the term avenger. I'm a hacktivist, cleaning up the cesspool of cyberspace one scam artist and troll at a time, and I sometimes bend a few rules to get justice done. He's a military man with abs of glory, sworn to uphold the letter of the law no matter its shortcomings. And if he'd known who - or what - I was, I doubt he would've banged me at my best friend's wedding reception.