Fake date a grumpy boss for Christmas. Enjoy some forced proximity with a flirtatious best friend for Valentine's Day. Wake up married to an Irishman in Vegas for St. Patrick's Day. Every day is a hot and hilarious holiday with this family.

I’ve got her brother’s approval, but now it’s Claire that I really have to convince. She doesn’t believe we have the right ingredients for a real relationship—so she only agrees to pretend to be my girlfriend to help me close a deal in New York. I believe she’s about to discover exactly how I roll when I know what I want. And what I want is her.

The job was simple. Always answer the phone—no exceptions—then solve the caller’s catastrophe as efficiently as possible. The rules were simpler. They contact you, not the other way around. Never give them your real name, number, or any personal information not required to help a newly single dad keep his head above water. And never, ever get involved with a caller.

It’s not easy being a woman working in a male dominated field. Add in the fact that my uncle owns the baseball team I work for, and proving I belong here is a constant battle. Dating a player was never an option. Not if I wanted to keep a shred of dignity and respect. Then Ronan Sinclair sits down next to me in first class with his alluring blue eyes and hard-to-resist dimples. To say nothing of his kindness and charm, or his determination to convince me that a steamy vacation fling is what we both need.

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.

A forbidden romance with my brother’s hockey teammate wasn’t on my to-do list when I moved across the country… Neither was getting locked out of a friend’s place wearing next to nothing. Or spending the night with the sexy stranger who rescues me. But I’m trying to get out of my comfort zone so getting out of the rest of my clothes with him seems like a good way to start. In the morning, I learn the filthy-mouthed man with the talented hands is not only the hotshot new hockey player on my brother’s team: he’s also–wait for it–my brand new roommate.

Yes, I’m a single dad who needs a nanny for the summer. But hiring the stranded runaway bride who shows up on my doorstep in a wedding gown with no references, no skills, and no experience? No one is that desperate.

No one but me knew why I was actually in the California desert that day. Nestled deep within the desolate, rocky area was a recording studio. When a door suddenly opened, a man mistook me for someone he was supposed to be interviewing for a job. The next thing I knew, I was whisked inside. The position? An assistant on the upcoming tour for one of America’s most famous rock bands. Pretty exciting opportunity for a twenty-two-year-old, just out of college. Not surprisingly, I bombed the interview.

Former Hostile Operations Team soldier Blaze "Shadow" Connolly knows what it’s like to lose everything. He’s got nobody except his job and his team and that’s the way he likes it. But when he walks into a gas station during a robbery and locks eyes with Emma Grace Sutton, he knows he’ll do anything to protect the pretty girl with the blue glasses.

I should have known everything was going to change when she walked into my tattoo shop... Timid as hell and gorgeous to the extreme. I knew better than even thinking about touching a woman like that. My life is dangerous. My calling wicked. Willing to cross any line to protect the innocent. I thought I’d never see her again until my little boy tumbled and busted his lip, and I found her working at the doctor’s office. The woman who’d taken possession of my thoughts. When it becomes clear she’s in trouble, I offer up a deal.

Treat yourself to three funny, spicy full-length sports romance novels written by a dude who loves football and a chick who’s still trying to figure it out.

This is a story about a cabin in a small town, a workaholic New Yorker who hates the holidays, and a hot-nerd local doctor who loves Christmas...and flirting. It starts to snow. There is also a dog.

Jake Whitley and I start off on the wrong foot. And then it goes downhill from there. After my career implodes, I’m determined to make a living with my new event planning business. But Jake and I are at odds from the moment I step on his private plane.

I made a deal with my brother a long time ago to never date his teammates. Technically, Rowan Landry, the hot as hell center for the Chicago Falcons, is no longer my brother’s teammate. Or his best friend. Their college days are long behind them, and they barely talk now. Also, I’m not dating him—we’re just sleeping together. There’s a difference.

The first time I met Dawson Reed, we wound up in bed. The problem was, neither of us knew the other were there. When I woke up in the middle of the night and found a stranger next to me, instinct kicked in and I attacked the intruder. Only it turned out, the man wasn’t an intruder at all. Dawson had rented this cabin, too. Apparently, a system glitch allowed a duplicate booking. We’d soon find out we were in town for the same wedding, and Dawson was the groomsman I’d been warned about. He was as tall, dark and jaw-droppingly gorgeous as my best friend had described.

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.

I’ve got her brother’s approval, but now it’s Claire that I really have to convince. She doesn’t believe we have the right ingredients for a real relationship—so she only agrees to pretend to be my girlfriend to help me close a deal in New York. I believe she’s about to discover exactly how I roll when I know what I want. And what I want is her.

Johnny Decker, #12. Star quarterback for the Boston Tomcats. Two-time Super Bowl MVP...a decade ago. Nickname: "Decker the Panty Wrecker". When we lose our beloved team owner, his estranged daughter inherits the Tomcats. I don’t know which is worse—the fact that she’s a finance nerd from New York who knows less than nothing about football...or that I mistook her for a secretary when we first met. She’s stubborn, uptight, infuriating, looks way too good in a skirt, and she’s wrong about absolutely everything—from pizza to how to run my team.

Treat yourself to three funny, spicy full-length sports romance novels written by a dude who loves football and a chick who’s still trying to figure it out.

Fake date a grumpy boss for Christmas. Enjoy some forced proximity with a flirtatious best friend for Valentine's Day. Wake up married to an Irishman in Vegas for St. Patrick's Day. Every day is a hot and hilarious holiday with this family.

Dear Fiona: I hope this letter finds you well—and by well, I mean significantly less infuriated than you were yesterday. I’ve wanted to continue our conversation from the night we met, but there are so many things I can’t say or do, now that I’m your professor. As an anonymous letter writer, I can give you some idea of what I have planned for us, once the year is over. As an author, I can share my work in progress with you. Not for you to critique but to show you how much you mean to me.

Ex-cop Maxwell Fear knows all too well what can happen to a witness of a violent crime—which is why he has no choice but to protect her. Sloane Robertson is no longer the woman he met at a dinner party, or the woman he kissed at the front door. She’s a client, a job, nothing more than a person who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong damn time.

A single dad, a model, and a comedian walk into a bar.... They’re all Owen Brodie. It’s only funny if you aren’t the hilarious struggling comedian who has been hired to be his son’s nanny for the stand-up tour.

When I was a kid, my dad was the gardener for the richest man in town. His daughter, Lily Barnes, told me she could never like a guy like me. Then she kissed me and told me it would never happen again. When it happened again, she told me she could never love me because she was going to leave this place, and I would never leave my dad. We were never quite friends, not exactly enemies, and we could never quite stop secretly kissing each other. She never said goodbye before running off to try to make it as an actress. That was her dream, and I wanted her to chase it.

Jude Holland has slogged it for years at a chance to land a coveted job designing the city's most breathtaking restaurants and nightclubs. When a spot opens up on her firm's design team, her boss makes her a deal: design Theo Jordan—the firm's biggest client—a new restaurant, convince him to renew his contract with the company, and the job is hers. If only he'd play along.

Marisol locks me out of my own concert by accident. She's wearing a suit at a rock show, searching for her lost law school textbook, has no idea who I am, and for the first time in years, I'm hooked. She's smart, driven, and utterly gorgeous. The sort of girl who earnestly believes in following the rules and hates when others don't. I'm a huge rock star, recovering addict, and general f--kup. Our relationship is for show and that's all. But with every smile, every laugh, and every breathtaking glance at her curves, I want her more.

Everyone on Main Street has been talking about Evan Hunter, the British movie star who’ll be filming on location in our small Pacific Northwest town for a couple of months, and all I have to say about that is: “Who?” When he shows up two weeks early to escape the London paparazzi after breaking up with some starlet, all I want to know is: “So?” When he walks into the gym that I manage for my dad and brothers, to start training for the action scenes in his movie, I’ll admit I do say to myself: “Hmmm...”

In my darkest days, I found solace in the words of rock star god Noah Hart. He saw into my heart. And I saw into his. Even though we'd never met, I felt as if I knew the man behind the music. Then I met him. Noah isn't a wounded poet. He's a jerk. He's abrasive, cutting, and guarded as hell. He says people are selfish. He says we're only out for ourselves. He refuses to trust. He refuses to let anyone in. I'm supposed to be helping him write a song. I'm supposed to be his confidant. But the only time we connect is when we take to his bed.

I made a deal with my brother a long time ago to never date his teammates. Technically, Rowan Landry, the hot as hell center for the Chicago Falcons, is no longer my brother’s teammate. Or his best friend. Their college days are long behind them, and they barely talk now. Also, I’m not dating him—we’re just sleeping together. There’s a difference.

Struggling artist Lily Tennison only has a few months before she can quit her job and pursue her true passion. Painting. But when Cameron Knight, the sexy as sin guitarist for the band Caged, needs a place to hide out from the press for a few days, Lily’s entire world turns upside down...Lily wants a taste of something forbidden. Cameron wants to give it to her. They've only got four days. So what could it hurt?

There was right, there was wrong, and then there was the in-between. The place where normal people reside, understanding that there are two sides to every coin. People that do bad things for good reasons. People that do bad things for bad reasons. First, I knew that Shasha Semyonov was a bad man. One that did bad things for bad reasons. That didn’t mean that I was rational when it came to him.