I admit it was me who shouted, “Looking good, hot stuff!” at Mr. Richmond this morning, but I didn’t mean it like that. Yes, Mrs. HR Lady, I know how it looks. Believe me, I am totally anti-catcalling, but that’s not what that was. Honest. I was paying him a compliment! That’s kind of what I do: I’m a proud, small-town Floridian, and Manhattan is craving some Florida sunshine—nothing like a sincere compliment to turn those New York frowns upside down!

When you kiss your perfect boyfriend under the mistletoe...only for your cousin scream to the family that you stole her man, you realize that you will never again have a merry Christmas. In my defense, I didn’t know my boss—yup, boss. Buckle up because this is messy—was my cousin’s newly minted and totally lying fiancé. I thought he was the Nutcracker Prince come to finally show my family that I, too, was worthy of putting the star atop the Christmas tree.

Welcome to life as a wedding planner for the rich and entitled of Manhattan. I’ve seen it all - from the nastiest bridezilla to the most overindulged billionaire. And Evan is the worst. Tall, dark, and handsome, he has a ridiculously ripped body under his formal suit and runs a massive hedgefund that’s actively making the world a worse place. I don’t even feel sorry for him when he walks away from the alter in a daze

Christmas is bad enough without all the music, frantic shopping sprees, and holiday parties. So many parties… with people you couldn’t stand in high school and definitely can’t stand now. Top of the list? Patty Harrison. She made my teen years miserable and, now that we’re adults, she’s trying to get me banned from the Christmas market. Even so, I’m not going to commit literal murder.

The only thing we have in common is that we’re both tall. He wears bespoke suits; I wear flats with holes in them. He runs a big shot investment firm; I’m trying to start my own company with only bubble gum and circus peanuts. He likes to show up at my horrible dates and ruin them; I…pretended I hated when he did that but secretly was thrilled even though it was a little young adult fiction.

I kept smiling when I caught my fiancé coming down my sister’s chimney on Christmas Eve. I gave polite congratulations when they got engaged. And I even offered to help decorate for their Christmas wedding despite the fact that was supposed to be my dream wedding. But when my sister cuts up my great-grandmother’s one-hundred-year-old wedding dress and turns it into a skank show, even though that was the dress I was going to wear on my wedding day? Well, this elf is torching down the North Pole.

As a scruffy, disorganised daydreamer, Lucy Mayweather is like a fish out of water at the high-powered offices of her brother’s billionaire best friend. When she agreed to work for Felix, she had no idea quite how cut-throat his world–or he–would be. She just wanted to escape her reclusive life and be close to her childhood crush, hoping he might notice her. But Lucy’s lonelier in London than she’s even been in her tiny village back home.

Thanks to my needy pet rat, I’m banned from working at all Florida theme parks. So what’s a person to do? Get a job as a mascot for a local hockey team, of course. I didn’t expect to get pushed into a pool on my first day by the grouchiest, hottest player on the team. Nor could I have imagined that we’d get locked into an evacuated building together and share an angry kiss that would get caught on video. Or that said video would go viral, sending ticket sales for our games through the roof.

In Minatsol, being a dweller means that you are literally no better than dirt. In fact, dirt might actually be more useful than Willa. Her life will be one of servitude to the sols, the magic-blessed beings who could one day be chosen to become gods. At least her outer village is far removed from the cities of the sols, and she won’t ever be forced to present herself to them... Until one small mistake changes everything, and Willa is awarded a position to serve at Blesswood, the top sol academy in the world—a position that she definitely did not earn.

I never thought I’d see her again—the woman I left behind at the motel after our one-night stand. Picture my surprise when she strolls into the office as my new assistant. But wait, there’s more. I come home to find her with suitcases, nowhere to stay. I could decline to have her move in, yet I see a chance. My nosy aunt’s visiting, expecting to meet my non-existent spouse. My assistant’s onboard with the madness of playing my newlywed wife.

My new boss—Alexander Bane. Aptly named since he’s the bane of my existence. Please isn’t in his vocabulary. He grunts, growls, and demands. If only he didn’t look so sexy when doing so. If only his mouth weren’t so addictive when kissing mine. He’s quickly becoming my favorite boss. Which is wrong. My new assistant is an unwelcomed distraction. Snarky, witty, always smiling. Constantly putting me in my place. Making me second-guess my decisions.

Easton Calloway needs a wifey, pronto, and he chooses me to temporarily fill the position. While I want to tell him to eff off, I can't walk away from the temptation. So, I do what any broke actress living in New York City would do, and I agree to the terms and conditions. It should be easy: a year of marriage, a cushy penthouse in the city, and a spending allowance. After three hundred sixty-five days, I'll receive divorce papers and a check in the mail. All I have to do is pretend we're happily married without falling in love.

You’d think nearly dying trying to get out of a too-tight gown in a dressing room and being saved by a strong, competent man was a good thing. Not so much, though, when that strong, competent man is your ex. Your secret ex. And the reason you need a gown is because you’re part of a charity auction. The charity auction where he gets into a bidding war to win you. And now, because you’re one of few female coaches in professional baseball, and he’s the captain of the local professional hockey team, and he paid a ridiculous sum of money for you…

It had been one year, two months and seventeen days since my last date. So my best friend Abby decided to sign me up for a dating app. She guaranteed that she could get me the best date of my life within one week. I didn’t really want to do it, but I figured what did I have to lose? Turns out that I had.

There are a million reasons why I shouldn’t date Fletcher Huxley. He’s a growly-faced, stubborn-streaked, international rugby legend trying to revive his flailing career in the US after being canned by his team overseas. While he might have the good kind of thunder thighs, intriguing tattoos, and a booty of steel, he also holds the top position on my very short nemesis list thanks to what happened the first time we met.

Lana Fleming’s sister has vanished from the set of TV’s hottest show, and no one seems to care. Desperate for answers, Lana sneaks in as an extra, only to get stranded with Griffin Hart, an A-list action star with a reputation for good abs and bad decisions. Though Griffin didn’t expect to be cast as a librarian’s sidekick in a real-life thriller, he’s weirdly into it—and into her. Even more unsettling—she sees right through his playboy persona. But their meet-cute soon turns deadly when they uncover a Hollywood scandal for the ages.

It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and Charlotte and Seth are not looking for romance. Armed with emotional-support bear spray, Charlotte is in self-imposed isolation and on guard from men. Having a stalker can do that to a person’s nerves. Just across the hall and giving off woodsy vibes is Seth, a recently divorced arborist. As in today recently. Heights, he’s fine with. Trust? Not so much.

Liv’s happy with life in her thirties. She has two cats, one BFF, and no boyfriend, which is just how she likes it. Plus, she loves working at a not-for-profit software company where she can be her authentically autistic self. This is her happy ever after. But when her beloved firm merges with a repulsive rival, Liv finds herself competing with her sort-of-ex for the top job. Sure, Finn had been Liv’s best friend, with his nerdy good looks and their shared love of Tolkien, but there was that one night, their song, and … well, she doesn’t like to talk about it.

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.

After watching my mother succumb to a mysterious illness, I promised myself two things. I'd find the cure for what ravaged her and leave the godforsaken city where she abandoned me. Four years later, I received an acceptance letter from Dracadia University, one of the oldest most prestigious schools in the country. Nestled on a secluded island off the coast of Maine, it's rumored to be haunted by the souls of the mental patients exiled there centuries before, those whose bones are said to make up the island's white sandy shores. And restless ghosts aren't even its most daunting peculiarity.

The only thing we have in common is that we’re both tall. He wears bespoke suits; I wear flats with holes in them. He runs a big shot investment firm; I’m trying to start my own company with only bubble gum and circus peanuts. He likes to show up at my horrible dates and ruin them; I…pretended I hated when he did that but secretly was thrilled even though it was a little young adult fiction.

I admit it was me who shouted, “Looking good, hot stuff!” at Mr. Richmond this morning, but I didn’t mean it like that. Yes, Mrs. HR Lady, I know how it looks. Believe me, I am totally anti-catcalling, but that’s not what that was. Honest. I was paying him a compliment! That’s kind of what I do: I’m a proud, small-town Floridian, and Manhattan is craving some Florida sunshine—nothing like a sincere compliment to turn those New York frowns upside down!

Welcome to life as a wedding planner for the rich and entitled of Manhattan. I’ve seen it all - from the nastiest bridezilla to the most overindulged billionaire. And Evan is the worst. Tall, dark, and handsome, he has a ridiculously ripped body under his formal suit and runs a massive hedgefund that’s actively making the world a worse place. I don’t even feel sorry for him when he walks away from the alter in a daze

In my perfect world, it would always be winter and never Christmas. I despise the holiday. I hate carols, shopping, and pretending to be a perfect family. I walked away from my family, or rather, they walked away from me. My heart is like ice. See it creeping up the walls. Oh, wait, no, that’s royal icing.

When the townspeople of Harrogate almost riot over the Christmas décor thievery committed by the chair of the Elf on the Shelf Committee, I know I’m not going to survive the holiday season unless drastic action is taken. Biddy Jefferson turning up dead in my Christmas market stall is not exactly the type of drastic measure I had in mind. With no alibi and a town obsessed with pinning the murder on me, I have to clear my name. This is on top of planning the upcoming holiday ball, dealing with quirky stall owners in the Christmas market, and corralling confused tourists.

When you kiss your perfect boyfriend under the mistletoe...only for your cousin scream to the family that you stole her man, you realize that you will never again have a merry Christmas. In my defense, I didn’t know my boss—yup, boss. Buckle up because this is messy—was my cousin’s newly minted and totally lying fiancé. I thought he was the Nutcracker Prince come to finally show my family that I, too, was worthy of putting the star atop the Christmas tree.

Christmas is bad enough without all the music, frantic shopping sprees, and holiday parties. So many parties… with people you couldn’t stand in high school and definitely can’t stand now. Top of the list? Patty Harrison. She made my teen years miserable and, now that we’re adults, she’s trying to get me banned from the Christmas market. Even so, I’m not going to commit literal murder.

I kept smiling when I caught my fiancé coming down my sister’s chimney on Christmas Eve. I gave polite congratulations when they got engaged. And I even offered to help decorate for their Christmas wedding despite the fact that was supposed to be my dream wedding. But when my sister cuts up my great-grandmother’s one-hundred-year-old wedding dress and turns it into a skank show, even though that was the dress I was going to wear on my wedding day? Well, this elf is torching down the North Pole.

Crash-land on an alien barbarian planet and told there’s no way home? Anyone else might have a nervous breakdown, but I was abducted with my besties! Between us, we have fifteen PhDs. We will be getting off this planet. Trust. Two liquid hydrogen rockets and a smidge of deep-space travel later, and we’re back home on Earth. Except that our spaceship had stowaways. Now there’s a seven-foot-tall alien named Cassius in my Los Angeles condo. He’s calmly explaining that, according to the ancestors, we are to be eternally mated and have a litter of children.

When my brother’s best friend asks me to fake marry him to secure a business deal he desperately needs, I laugh in his face. Me, help Carter Harrington? That’s split-your-pants, rip-roaring hilarious. I don’t even like him.

Marooned on a sand planet, injured, and separated from her crew, Captain Danica Miller is not having a good day. When she’s rescued from the desert by a huge, gold-skinned alien, she doesn’t know whether to be relieved or to panic. Not only is he clearly a barbarian — a barely-dressed one at that — he seems to be able to read her thoughts. Even worse? She can sense his. And he seems to think she’s his to claim.

For years, he was known only as Blackrose's Blade, an elite assassin in the employ of the Crown. But after a mission cost him the use of his leg, Rourke Lindsay has unexpectedly inherited a dukedom . . . and along with it, the headache of a pair of hellion twins. Now, he's in dire need of a miracle. He just didn't expect her to be quite so tempting.

Amazon Top 25 and International Bestselling Author Kathy Lockheart delivers an unputdownable romance series where desire and danger collide. Two standalones, interconnected by a deliciously dark thread of romance, action, mystery, and shocking twists… Included in the collection: Deadly Illusion (Book One) and Fatal Cure (Book Two)

Nikolai: She came to my territory to spy on me. No one does that and lives. But this girl, she's a rare beauty. She's a temptation I have to conquer, and so I make her an offer. My mark, on her skin. The Volkov family insignia tattooed on her shoulder, to tell the world she's mine, and she earns my protection. It starts out as a game but becomes an obsession. Trouble is, I can't tell who is winning the game.

I was the girl no one looked at twice. Until they saw me. My whole life, no one has had my back. My parents are dead, my adoptive mother is a drug addict, and the mean girls on campus mock me for my scars. So when I end up desperate for money and out of options, I agree to sell the one thing I have left: my innocence. On the night I’m meant to give my body to a brutal Russian mobster, three men storm into the room like dark shadows and kill him before he can claim me. When they drag me from the blood-soaked bed, I’m certain they’re going to kill me too.