Terminated for inappropriate behavior. I couldn’t believe the letter in my hands. Nine years. Nine damn years I’d worked my butt off for one of the largest companies in America, and I was fired with a form letter when I returned home from a week in Aruba. All because of a video taken when I was on vacation with my friends - a private video made on my private time. Or so I thought.... I cracked open a bottle of wine and wrote my own letter to the gazillionaire CEO telling him what I thought of his company. I didn’t think he’d actually respond.

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’d never forgotten him - a man I’d yet to meet. Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break. Until one day it did. Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one - one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing. Griffin forgave me, and we were able to rekindle our childhood connection.

The second the test-the-sexy-scenes offer landed in my lap, I said yes. After all, I've been damn curious about a few things I've read in romance novels. Do buttons truly go flying across the floor when you rip off a guy's shirt? Is staircase nookie hella hot, or does it leave you with a big old bruise mark on your back? And don’t even get me started on all that panty shredding, and whether it even works. Time to find out as I embark on Project Sexy Scenes Research, at the request of my hotshot book editor bestie. All I need is a willing scene partner.

Recovering from a pulled groin muscle isn’t exactly how I planned to spend my much-needed summer vacation. But being nursed back to health by my gorgeous friend, Bailey, who’s just graduated from medical school, doesn’t exactly sound like a hardship. She’s funny and kind, and after just being myself for the first time in a long time, I find my walls come tumbling down. But when Bailey says she’s not looking for a relationship, I’m bound and determined to be more than just the fun hookup who sprained his groin a second time - this time with her.

Single mom Heather Ellis would do anything for her adopted daughter, Ava. Even post an online reward for anyone who found the girl’s lost stuffed animal. Who’d have guessed it’d be returned by a drop-dead-sexy man with such sadness in his eyes that she had to reach out to him? To Ava, he’s a hero. To Heather, he’s a fantasy that puts at risk the happy life she’s made for herself.

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. 

After years of choosing safe over satisfying, a weeklong Paris fling sounds perfect to Wren Heath. And who better to have it with than Mauricio Romano, a billionaire with a reputation as a first-class heartbreaker. A few days. Fun, then done. What happens on vacation stays on vacation, right? Paris was Mauricio’s playground, and love was never part of the game. Lust? Toujours. Then he meets a sweet woman who wants to be a sex kitten. He knows how to give her the wildest five days and nights of her life.

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.

Note to self - do not bang your best guy friend in the limo on the way to the swanky Vegas hotel. I give myself very good advice. Too bad I suck at taking it. If only Colin and I hadn't drunk so much whiskey, if only I'd kept that red bikini in my suitcase, if only his evil ex-girlfriend hadn't come sniffing around making me feel territorial and protective. Not that my bad boy rock star best friend is any help. Walking around looking ridiculously sexy, telling me I'm perfect in that panty-melting voice of his when we both swore we’d never do anything to put our friendship at risk.

Sometimes I need an escape from the demands, the puck bunnies, and the notoriety that come with being an NHL team captain. I just want to be a normal guy for a few weeks. So when I leave Chicago for some peace and quiet, the last thing I expect is for a gorgeous woman to literally fall into my lap on a flight to Alaska. Even better, she has absolutely no idea who I am.

I was only trying to help a friend. I swear. I was legit asking for a friend who was finally ready to date again. So I did what any good friend would do. Posted it for her. It seemed like a good idea at the time - I’d weed through the candidates, and bring her my top picks. But then he responded. Is it wrong to date the guy I screened for my bestie? Not asking for a friend.

It all started with a mysterious blue note sewn into a wedding dress. Something blue. I’d gone to sell my own unworn bridal gown at a vintage clothing store. That’s when I found another bride’s “something old.” Stitched into the lining of a fabulously feathered design was the loveliest message I’d ever read: Thank you for making all of my dreams come true. The name embossed on the blue stationery: Reed Eastwood, obviously the most romantic man who ever lived. I also discovered he’s the most gorgeous. If only my true-love fantasies had stopped there.

The first book in the scorching new Hot Jocks series by New York Times best-selling author Kendall Ryan - available in audio first! I've never been so stupid in my entire life. Elise Parrish, my teammate's incredibly sweet and gorgeous younger sister, should have been off-limits, but my hockey stick didn't get the memo. After our team won the championship, our flirting turned physical, and I took her to bed. Then shame sent her running the next morning from our catastrophic mistake.

When I joined Seattle’s NHL expansion team, I thought it was the start of something great. But nothing ever goes the way you expect. Take my introduction to my new neighbor. She came rolling in on the hot mess express at midnight, making a racket while she tried to get into my team captain’s apartment. Did I mention that he’s married to a woman who definitely was not her?