I haven’t been having much luck on the dating scene lately, ever since my breakup with my longtime college girlfriend. I thought being 25 and single would be a blast, but dating apps are trash, and I’ve managed to get nothing but three fake numbers at my favorite bar. Thankfully, the actual owner of the third fake number was kind enough to reply to let me know I’d texted the wrong number. She was warm and open and expressed curiosity about the fake number I’d been given, so we got to texting.

Reed freaking Rivers. I wouldn’t trust a word out of the arrogant music mogul’s mouth if his gold-plated tongue were notarized. The Man with the Midas Touch would say anything to get me into his bed, and I know it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want him to succeed. The moment I laid eyes on Reed while he was speaking at an on-campus event I’d crashed, my body physically ached to feel his golden fingers—and tongue—all over me. Unfortunately, though, I can’t give into my powerful craving to jump Reed’s cocky bones. Not until I’ve figured out my best strategy with him . . .

I'm not interested in starting something deep and meaningful, but what I am interested in is the way your body reacts to mine when we're in the same room. You probably assume the concentration on my face is work-related, when in reality, I'm figuring out which I want more: to nail you against the wall, or to bend you over my desk.

Holt Sebastian is royalty in our world. As CEO of the Sebastian News Corp, he’s the man with all the power. The man who decides if I’ll always just be a local television anchor or if I’ll be the rising star of my own show.

The first time I met Winter Marks, I almost took her out with my Jeep. To be fair, she came out of nowhere. I flirted with her, and she flipped me off and disappeared into the woods on her bike. But she left me a souvenir: a single hockey skate. Seemed to me that divine intervention shouldn’t be ignored. She was my icy Cinderella, and I would be her Prince Not-So-Charming. Winter was more than just a sassy, badass hockey-playing hottie. She’s stuck in a prison of a life. And I’m the perfect escape. Neither of us expected to fall. Or for the truth to shatter us.

The difference is mine will never be revealed, whereas I can easily get yours, assuming the price offered by your enemy is right and the scales of justice appeal to my personal standards of ethics. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. The thing that’s not so easy for a shy guy like me? Finding Ms. Right and locking her down.

The first time I laid eyes on Lydia Decker, I couldn’t speak. Or breathe. Or string two coherent thoughts together. And I don’t mean any of that figuratively. No, when I first laid eyes on Lydia Decker - my physical therapist - I was lying flat on my back in the ICU, high as a kite on painkillers, breathing on a ventilator, my bones as broken and splintered as my spirit. She said she’d been assigned to fix me. But what I didn’t know...what I couldn’t possibly know...was that Lydia Decker needed fixing far more than I ever did.

When wealthy playboy Jonas Faraday receives an anonymous note from Sarah Cruz, a law student working part-time processing online applications for an exclusive club, he becomes obsessed with tracking her down and giving her the satisfaction she claims has always eluded her. Thus begins a passionate, spicy, romantic, funny, and downright addicting romance of everlasting love and redemption.

Laila: I've tried to like Adrian Savage, the mercurial frontman for Fugitive Summer, while serving as his band's opening act on tour. But it's proved impossible. Global thirst trap that he is, however, I can't resist having some fun at his expense. Specifically, I've decided not only to give Savage the sound tongue lashing his cocky ass deserves--one nobody else has the balls to deliver--I'm also determined to bring that brooding bad boy to his knees.

They say there are three things you should do at least once in your life: Dance like nobody’s watching. Travel the world. And fall hopelessly in love. I aimed to do all three. I went to Italy to find myself. But he found me.

I was a small-town girl with big city dreams and more ambition than money to my name. He had everything—money, privilege, and the world at his feet. Opposites in every way, but that didn’t matter. We were lightning in a bottle, and everything felt possible when we were together. Life was perfect.

Working as Ruslan Oryolov’s personal assistant is the job from hell. After a long day spent tending to the billionaire’s every whim, I need some stress relief. So when I get home that night, that’s exactly what I do. Problem is, my thoughts are still stuck on the bosshole, who’s ruining my life. That’s fine—because of all Ruslan’s many sins, being gorgeous might be the most dangerous.

Rule number one for having a one-night stand: Don’t fall for the girl. After a lengthy dating slump, I finally met someone who sparked my interest. Well, first the sparks flew when we argued. Later in the evening those sparks ignited into something more. I was drawn to Devyn, in a way I hadn’t felt in a really long time. Needless to say, I was disappointed when she abruptly left after our amazing night together. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But she hadn’t even given me her number. In a city with eight-million people, I figured I’d never see Devyn again.

Lila James is my best friend’s little sister, and I’ve always looked out for her. She's five years younger than me, and when she left for college, she was just a kid. But now she’s home for the summer—and she’s definitely not a kid anymore.

When my grandmother found out she didn’t have long to live, she embarked on a crazy trip—jumping out of airplanes and scuba diving with sharks. After I repeatedly voiced my concern, Gram blocked me—her own grandson—on text and social media, leaving me only her travel companion Eleanor’s number.

I haven’t been having much luck on the dating scene lately, ever since my breakup with my longtime college girlfriend. I thought being 25 and single would be a blast, but dating apps are trash, and I’ve managed to get nothing but three fake numbers at my favorite bar. Thankfully, the actual owner of the third fake number was kind enough to reply to let me know I’d texted the wrong number. She was warm and open and expressed curiosity about the fake number I’d been given, so we got to texting.

I hate him and I don’t even know his name. The good news is my nemesis has made it abundantly clear the feeling is mutual. He did call me pretty, though, in the midst of a heated screaming match. Which would have been flattering, if I didn’t loathe him so much. But whatever. I don’t care how handsome he might be, or how charming the rest of the world probably finds him, guys who look like aged-out boy banders aren’t my type. Add to that, he’s got a knack for being in precisely the wrong place at the wrong time.

The difference is mine will never be revealed, whereas I can easily get yours, assuming the price offered by your enemy is right and the scales of justice appeal to my personal standards of ethics. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. The thing that’s not so easy for a shy guy like me? Finding Ms. Right and locking her down.

Reed freaking Rivers. I wouldn’t trust a word out of the arrogant music mogul’s mouth if his gold-plated tongue were notarized. The Man with the Midas Touch would say anything to get me into his bed, and I know it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want him to succeed. The moment I laid eyes on Reed while he was speaking at an on-campus event I’d crashed, my body physically ached to feel his golden fingers—and tongue—all over me. Unfortunately, though, I can’t give into my powerful craving to jump Reed’s cocky bones. Not until I’ve figured out my best strategy with him . . .

Growing up, I knew my older brother’s best friend thought of me as “Logan’s kid sister”. For me, though, our next-door neighbor Colin felt like anything but a sibling. Whenever I spied on him through my bedroom window, as he banged away, shirtless, on his drum kit, I felt sensations inside me I’d never felt for my actual brother. But when we moved away and Colin’s band took off like a rocket, I knew my tweener fantasies would never become a reality.

The first time I laid eyes on Lydia Decker, I couldn’t speak. Or breathe. Or string two coherent thoughts together. And I don’t mean any of that figuratively. No, when I first laid eyes on Lydia Decker - my physical therapist - I was lying flat on my back in the ICU, high as a kite on painkillers, breathing on a ventilator, my bones as broken and splintered as my spirit. She said she’d been assigned to fix me. But what I didn’t know...what I couldn’t possibly know...was that Lydia Decker needed fixing far more than I ever did.

THE JOSH & KAT TRILOGY (a bundle containing Infatuation, Revelation, and Consummation) is the sensual, laugh-out-loud funny, thrilling "origin story" of Josh Faraday and Kat Morgan, two of the most beloved characters in the Lauren Rowe universe. It’s a war of wills between stubborn and sexy Josh Faraday and Kat Morgan. A fight to the bed. Arrogant, wealthy playboy Josh is used to getting what he wants. And what he wants is Kat Morgan.

At one point during the party, Alessandra said, “There’s nothing like a girl’s first love.” I knew she was talking about the first smash hit by my band, 22 Goats. Alessandra said it was the first song she’d heard by us and it “hit her like a ton of bricks”. Ironic, seeing as how I was having the same reaction from being in her presence.

When wealthy playboy Jonas Faraday receives an anonymous note from Sarah Cruz, a law student working part-time processing online applications for an exclusive club, he becomes obsessed with tracking her down and giving her the satisfaction she claims has always eluded her. Thus begins a passionate, spicy, romantic, funny, and downright addicting romance of everlasting love and redemption.

Fresh off a divorce from a Hollywood hotshot, Madison Atwood needs an escape. With the paparazzi fresh on her heels and her love life splashed on every tabloid, she runs away to a swanky retreat in Northern California. Avalon Springs is the mountainside haven she needs to find herself again. Luke Dawson lives off the grid, preferring solitude to society. When he finds a beautiful woman soaking in the hot springs on his property, he can't stop himself from watching her. She captures his attention, but she's just a city girl - a beautiful distraction disturbing the peace.

When I discover my boyfriend is cheating on me, I move out right away taking what I love most – my dog. As I fly out the door, I make sure to swipe the thing my ex loves best–the VIP tickets he won to a hockey game, complete with the chance to spend an evening with the city’s two biggest NHL stars. I can’t wait to snap selfies with my ex’s idols and rub it in his face.

I caught her staring at me from across the quad, eyes fixed on the football jersey stretched across my wide chest. And if I flexed my muscles, showing off the strength of a defensive tackle, it was just to see her blush. And then she did, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Her wide eyes. The freckles on her cheeks. I needed to know her. The girl who scampered away every time we bumped into each other—by accident and by design.

I knew something was wrong the second she walked in the door tonight; I just couldn't put my finger on what it was. Same hair color. Same legs. Same face. Except...I look harder. At the small dimple beneath her lip that wasn't there the last time we went out. And her laugh - that laugh isn't as loud. This isn't the girl I've gone out with the past few weeks. It's her twin sister, and they've switched places on me.

Let me list the reasons why dating the sexy, charming pro hockey star is a bad idea: He’s one of my closest friends. All our friends are friends. The wounds I’ve got from past relationships go deep. And so do his. We’re both devoutly single -- it’s just safer for the heart that way. But there’s no reason not to bid on the gorgeous, clever athlete at the charity auction this weekend. If I win, it’ll be a "friendsdate." And I do win. I win him big. And hard. And all night long.

Everyone wants to get close to a rock star. The bright lights. The music. Those talented fingers strumming… a guitar. Everyone wants to bang a rock star. So why do I keep running from the one who wants me? I’m America’s Sweetheart. I have a reputation. He’s a boy-band icon turned rock god. I’m vanilla. He’s every flavor of bad. And he’s much, much too young for me. If I end up in Nick Ryder’s bed, my career and I will both be screwed. …but that’s only if I’m caught.