Griffin Martin's the biggest jerk in the emergency department and I'm stuck working with him. No one else will have him. Behind his back, we call him Doctor Delight, and that's not a compliment. I can't lose this job, but he tried my patience and finally, when I'd had enough, I stood up to him. In front of everyone—the chief physician, the nurse in charge, and patients everywhere. What does he dare to do? He doesn't fire me. Instead, he pursues me.

Bestselling author Morgan Elizabeth delivers Tourist Trap, a small town, age gap, grumpy sunshine, summer romance based in Seaside Point, a shore town in New Jersey.

As your paralegal (and ex), I have to be honest: You’re a horrible lawyer. Honestly, the worst I’ve ever seen. You never communicate, you pile on overtime, and you’re constantly in a bad mood. Now, about those panties on your desk. No, that wasn’t a desperate cry for your attention. It was the result of a lost bet with my roommate. But if you were even half the lawyer you claim to be, you’d have figured that out without all the ego-tripping.

Jess: Meet Mark Donovan. Ex-Army sniper. CEO of a multi-billion dollar global empire. Chiseled to the nth degree. And a man I want nothing to do with.I know the type. Dangerous. Sexy. A bad-boy who fills out a Tom Ford suit or pair of Calvin's in equally drool-worthy ways. At his core, the worst kind of heartbreaker. The kind who doesn't even know he did it.

I can still pinpoint the exact second when my life became two truths and a lie. You don't forget delivering a mountain of fresh-baked sweets to a man like Dexter Rory. I never wanted to see his scowling, bossy, brutally godlike face again, no matter how well he tipped. If you told me I'd wind up wearing his ring, I would've died laughing. But here I am, trying to cling to my sanity while I confront the undeniable.

Rule Number 1: Do Not Sleep with Clients. I was the best agent in the industry. More ruthless and cutthroat than any arrogant bastard you'd ever met. The top actors in Hollywood came to me to get signed. When I saw James Ryne, America's Sweetheart, standing across the bar, I wanted her body like I'd never wanted anything before. I broke rule number one. But, after all, I was a man. No one had ever mistaken me for a saint.

Callum Walker is a crazy grump. Okay, fine. He’s a hot, crazy grump. Still. He’s known me for less than a day. And now he’s showing up at my job saying that I’m the one. Like I said. Crazy. But there’s something else about him too. Something protective in the way he looks at me. And when he sees me on one of the worst days of my life He doesn’t even flinch. He just tosses me over his shoulder and says “you’re mine.”

It didn’t take long for news to spread that Tagger Grange was back in Peachtree Pass. I found out even faster when I fell right into his arms—not by choice. The barstool wobbled under me when reaching for a cheddar biscuit. They’re my weakness. Much like he used to be. Rolled up sleeves and tailored pants have replaced the boots and jeans my brother’s best friend once wore. But it’s not just the clothes that have changed. His shoulders are broader and he’s broodier. Somehow, he's even more handsome than ever.

My fresh start turned into a dumpster fire. Awesome new job. Small town heaven. Friendly faces galore. Then I strolled into my new home and found the unspeakable. Just when I'm sure it can't get worse, I'm “rescued” by a man who makes me see red for miles. Enter Lucas Graves. A bossy grump with a badge who's sworn to keep me safe. He rocks the scary-hot vibe, he reads too much, and he never misses a chance to give me crap for being a nerdy little cactus who mouths back. Not the type of man I'd go for in my right mind. Definitely not the type I should keep trading bruising kisses with.

Logan Murphy should come with a warning. He’s as hot as a Carolina Reaper on black asphalt in the middle of July. With perfectly messy dark hair and smoldering blue eyes—and don’t even get me started on the way that black tee stretches across his toned chest… He’s my brother’s best friend. He’s also a football star on track to win the first wide-receiver MVP in league history. Good thing I only date golfers… or I did.

After getting ditched at the altar, every “I do” makes me want to scream. Which is a problem, considering I’m an associate editor at Bride magazine. Just when I thought my job couldn’t get any worse, I got roped into being a last-minute bridesmaid... and paired with Wilder Hayes.

If Renn Brewer would’ve asked me to marry him, I would’ve said no. Why? One, his reputation precedes him. His name is in the headlines at least once a month. Two, he’s not just my brother’s best friend. They’re teammates. And three, I’m in my self-care era. Unfortunately, a version of me equates self-care with bad choices.

Amore Bennetti struggles early on to find her path in an unfamiliar world after witnessing the death of her mother. Feeling like an outsider among the underworld, she finds a best friend in the most unlikely place. A rival crime family.

I flee for my life when I leave Chicago, escaping a lifetime of misery. From the moment my eyes land on Mya Whitfield—I'm done for. Don't even get me started on watching her play the cello. I've never envied anything like I envy that enormous piece of wood between her legs. Move over, cello… There's a new man in town.

From New York Times & USA Today Bestseller, Vi Keeland, comes a steamy new romance novel. The rules: No dating. No sex outside of the game. No disclosing the terms of the contract. Rules were made to be broken, right? Eight weeks ago I signed a contract. One that seemed like a good idea at the time. A handsome bachelor, luxury accommodations, and a chance to win a prize my family desperately needed. There were some rules though. Lots of them actually. Follow the script, no dating, sex, or disclosing the terms of the deal.