Carrie might be lost, but she's exactly where she needs to be—in the big tattooed arms of a hot possessive mountain man. This obsessive alpha knows how to treat a city girl right!

He was my dad's best friend - and my first crush. Falling for him was bad. Flirting with him and trying to get in his pants the night of my 21st birthday party was definitely worse. But can you blame me? I hadn't seen the guy in years and he comes back looking hotter than ever. Our fling shouldn't have even begun but now that it has, I don't want it to stop. I'm crazy for this guy - and he's obsessed with me. Too bad my father will kill him if he finds out. So we can't tell him. We just have to keep it secret. Right? That might have worked...until he got me pregnant.

Well, I was failing to write a sex scene. As an author of more than 50 smut books, I was struggling to do what I did best. So, for fun, I asked one of my best online friends for some help.

Being a doctor in New York City has never been easy. Especially for someone like me, who has a private practice and an incompetent staff who insists on leaving me to fill in for them. When my team finally came to their senses and decided to bring someone more competent into the practice last month, I was actually elated. Until I realized that our new "doctor" was none other than the woman I was supposed to meet for dinner two weeks ago. The same woman who stood me up...

I've been in love with Sebastian Kemp since the second grade. Yes, the Sebastian Kemp. World famous hockey player. International playboy. Gorgeous heartthrob. I know, right? Get in line. I've been best friends with his younger sister since grade two, but I was convinced that he forgot I was alive. That's why I was so surprised when I turned on the news and saw my name and face all over it, saying that we were engaged. He shows up out of nowhere.

When Ashton moved to London, it broke my heart. I was only fourteen, but I was in love. I haven't seen him in four years. But now my father is getting married, and he's back. My feelings haven't changed, but I have. I'm not a scrawny little girl anymore. I have thick hips and curves. And once my father's best friend sees them, well, let's just say he becomes more caveman than best man. He can't take his eyes off me during the ceremony. He can't keep his hands off me during dinner. And every chance he gets, he's pulling me into storage closets and kitchens and alleys to..."celebrate".

Last night was the most embarrassing night of my life. I was that girl. You know, the highly intoxicated chick celebrating her 30th with her two best friends - the ones who are happily married. And the more I drank, the more I wanted to do something reckless to celebrate. By reckless, I meant the sexy and alluring man dressed in a business suit standing near the bar.

On my 25th birthday, I received a letter. My mother had left me a piece of land in her will - the farm I grew up on as a child. Her last request was that I restore it...and how could I say no? So I returned to my little town full of big memories. Nothing has changed here. Except for Grant Werther. When we were kids, I barely saw him. Now I can't miss him. The guy is huge; all muscle and beard, like some hardened mountain man. He's intimidating...and definitely sexy, in an alpha-male-cowboy kind of way.

After spending the last 10 years in prison, Zak, former DAMC president, has a few priorities: to reconnect with his “brothers”, to get drunk, and to get laid. Not necessarily in that order. When he spots a stunning woman in the clubhouse and mistakes her for one of the club’s strippers, those priorities get a bit skewed.

Danny Walker, my big brother’s arrogant, powerful, handsome, and completely unobtainable best friend. He’s a ruthless tech tycoon, and I take calls from angry clients who can’t reset their passwords. He lives in a Grade II listed mansion with holiday homes worldwide, and I rent a room in a flat-share with my best friend and mice.

Rule number one - It's only supposed to last for a week.... Ethan is a cocky, arrogant jerk. He's always been that way. I'll never understand why girls trip over themselves just to be with him. Don't they realize he's going to ditch them in a week?

Kieran Murphy is an Irish mob boss and one of the most powerful men in Boston. When he walks me home, people step aside out of respect for him. He could have any woman he wants. So why does he have eyes only for me? Is it how he has to lift my chin with his fingers to keep my eyes level with his when he scolds me and how I cover my bottom instinctively when he tells me that I've earned a spanking? Or is it how I quiver at the thought of everything I'm too ashamed to beg him to do to me? Maybe it's all of those, but I'm pretty sure there's something else too.

Maximo and I, we were definitely a fairy tale. Not the cleaned-up, sanitized ones where life’s problems are solved with a smile and a song. We were the old-school kind. A twisted tales packed with murder, violence, and tragic beginnings. Okay, so maybe we weren’t a traditional fairy tale. After all, Maximo was more villain than prince. He was scarily sexy. Devilishly charming. Controlling, possessive, and dangerous. Especially when it came to me. His little dove. And heaven help anyone who tried to free me from my gilded cage.

Whip King cannot be the man for me. Cocky, pierced firefighters are perfect for late-night rom-coms, but in real life they’re nothing but trouble. Especially when you find out they work for your dad—after you’ve already slept with them. Moving to my parents’ small town was supposed to be the fresh start I was looking for. When a disastrous Valentine’s Day leads to an unexpected encounter with a sexy stranger, and ends with the hottest night of my life, I didn’t think I would ever see Whip again.

Theo Graham is charming. Sweet. Absolutely gorgeous. But I’m not a little girl anymore. I shouldn’t want him. I can’t have him. I should know better than to want my best friend’s dad. My best friend is Theo’s son, who may or may not have had feelings for me on and off for the past eight years. Wanting my best friend’s dad was the one secret that was never supposed to come out. Except now, he wants me too.

Meet Randi Burnett—she’s brilliant, she’s beautiful, and she works for the bride. Missing groom? Intoxicated in-laws? Crying ring-bearer? You name it, she wrangles it. Too bad her personal life isn’t thriving like her side gig as a bridesmaid for hire. Recently dumped, Randi throws herself into her biggest challenge yet when she’s hired as a maid of honor and pretend best friend for an ice queen bride. There’s just one problem—the best man is infuriating, overprotective, and anti-marriage.

Lowen Ashleigh is a struggling writer on the brink of financial ruin when she accepts the job offer of a lifetime. Jeremy Crawford, husband of best-selling author Verity Crawford, has hired Lowen to complete the remaining books in a successful series his injured wife is unable to finish. Lowen arrives at the Crawford home, ready to sort through years of Verity's notes and outlines, hoping to find enough material to get her started. What Lowen doesn't expect to uncover in the chaotic office is an unfinished autobiography Verity never intended for anyone to read.

Ryder, Garrett, Kenzo, and Diesel - The Vipers. Their deals are as sordid as their business, and their reputation is enough to bring a grown man to his knees, forcing him to beg for mercy. They are not people you mess with, yet my dad did. The old man ran up a debt with them and then sold me to cover his losses. Yes, sold me. They own me now. I’m theirs in every sense of the word. But I’ve never been meek and compliant.

Beckett: If you’re reading this, well, you know the last-letter drill. You made it. I didn’t. Get off the guilt train, because I know if there was any chance you could have saved me, you would have. I need one thing from you: get out of the army and get to Telluride. My little sister Ella’s raising the twins alone. She’s too independent and won’t accept help easily, but she has lost our grandmother, our parents, and now me. It’s too much for anyone to endure. And here’s the kicker: there’s something else you don’t know that’s tearing her family apart.

I'm addicted to my stalker. He watches me at night, sneaking in through my living room window and making my blood turn to ice. I feel him all around me as chills snake down my spine. Each night he becomes bolder, getting closer and welcoming himself into my bedroom, feeding his addiction.