Jason loves his life as a stay-at-home dad, but being a divorced single father wasn't part of the plan. Besides his kids, pies are his passion. He makes and sells his creations at the Heartcraft Market, but it's not enough to live off of. After his father's recent health scare, Nico is determined to help revive their family diner. Then he meets Jason, whose pies are as sweet as he is, and an idea begins to form. Jason's kids are everything to him, but his bed feels empty at night. Nico has always wanted a family, but he has yet to find a man that he could build a life with.

What’s a straight guy to do when he accidentally goes on a date with his brand new gym-bro? Offer to be the best wingman ever, of course! It’s foolproof. Joey needs a man? I’ll find him one. He wants someone who looks, well, kind of like me? No problem! Not into watersports? I’ve got him covered. The issue is, going on all these dates with Joey makes me realize I want more of his time to be spent with me. I like the guy. And his smile. And the way he makes me feel like anything is possible.

I’m such a cliché. Rich, successful… and bored out of my mind. A classic case of a midlife crisis probably, but instead of buying an expensive sports car, I go on a long business trip to Australia. Alone. I haven’t trusted myself to be with anyone since my best friend betrayed me, leaving me bleeding and heartbroken. Until a gorgeous surfer dude named Ocean falls into my lap. Literally. He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Bossy, carefree, and somehow, he reads me like an open book. I agree to him staying with me in Melbourne so we can have a fling. With me in charge, obviously.

Sometimes you meet someone and you just know they're going to mean something to you. That's what happened with Col Langdon. Sure, he's a cranky, uptight New Yorker who seems strangely immune to my serenading, but he's been living rent-free in my head since the night we met. I'm the king of casual. But with Col . . . it's different.

This audiobook features four books from the Hobson Hills Omegas series, including The Beta's Love Song, Bennett's Dream, Justin's Journey, and Grey's Gift. All the stories are light and fluffy gay romances with zero angst and loving families. All the stories take place in the non-shifter Omegaverse.

I'm the Grinch who saves Christmas… Yep, you read that right. Every year, I save Christmas—and Christmas Falls—by organizing a massive festival that sustains tourism in our little town. It turns out that when Christmas is your life 24/7, the shine wears off the twinkly lights after a while. The holidays are a heck of a lot of work, and when I go home, I want peace and quiet, not fa-la-la-ing on my porch. That all changes when my sister brings me an early Christmas gift. One I didn't ask for. One that's tall, broad, and handsome...

All people see when they look at me is a beautiful man, a supermodel, half of the world’s most famous twins. No one sees the man underneath. When I return to Forestville, the small town I grew up in, for my high school reunion, I impulsively decide to stay.

If there’s one thing I don’t need upsetting my quiet and comfortable routine in the small town of Darling, Montana, it’s newcomer Ash Alcott crash landing on my family’s ranch like some sort of blonde angel. I don’t need his flirting. Or his smile. I don’t need the way he makes me question whether or not I’m truly happy being alone at forty. I certainly don’t need to be giving him riding lessons or appreciating the meals he cooks for the ranch.

I've spent most of my life knowing that supernatural creatures exist but never really interacting with any, so my knowledge of them is limited. Still, who would've thought a demisexual incubus was a thing? Well apparently, not only is it a thing, but I have one who claims to be my soulmate—or viramore, as he calls it. And now he has it in his head that he's going to save me from my past.

Opposites attract in this fun prequel novella set during an unexpected Tennessee snowstorm. Enjoy forced-proximity and enemies-to-lovers tropes as this brand new couple finds love among the zany, meddling residents of our beloved Licking Thicket.

I was drowning in debt and my sister needed help, so I made a terrible choice. I borrowed money from the infamous Marchesi family, knowing I had no way to pay them back. Did I think I could evade them? Did I think I’d win the lottery? No, I didn’t think at all. I just acted. Now, a killer is at my door, a man known for his ruthlessness, his persistence, and the way he can bring a man to his knees–for business or pleasure. I’ve got to find a way to pay him back, and the only thing I own free and clear is my body.

Keep an eye on Ren, they said. Just for tonight, they said. Next thing you know, I'm babysitting 300 succulents and Ren is making himself at home in my space. The Christmas Roommate is a stand-alone Christmas short story set in Ana’s new world of the Spencer brothers. Expect lots of pining from two guys who secretly love each other, an adorable puppy, and the biggest collection of succulents in the history of romance.

Ash is technically a fire mage, but he can't do much. Turning his bedroom lights on and off without having to get out of bed isn't exactly awe inspiring, not when anyone with the right gadget could clap and do the same thing. Worse, sometimes he senses something bigger and brighter lurking under his skin, and it feels so familiar he knows it has to be his magic, but then he burps or sneezes, and the feeling passes. So it's probably just allergies . . . or gas. Yeah . . . Not exactly brimming with magical oomph. Not anymore. It sucks.

Lark Levitt doesn't belong at Roosevelt College, at least in theory. Most students who attend the university come from wealthy families, and Lark is only a scholarship and a bus ride away from the trailer park where he lives. It's also a dream come true because dance is his life, and their program is one of the most prestigious in the country. But there are bumps in the road, like running into someone from his childhood.

There’s nothing wrong with admiring a work of art, or so I tell myself…even when the admiring is more like peeping out my bedroom window, and the work of art is the shirtless, sweaty, body of the man who’s been mowing my lawn once a week every summer for years.