Goodness, I have no idea what I'm doing. I’m a virgin attempting to write a romance novel and I'm having an impossible time trying to write a passionate and swoon-worthy love scene worthy of being published, thanks to my lack of experience...This is the story of my awkward, humiliating, and slightly terrifying life, but like all romance novels, I know it will end in a happily ever after. At least that's what I keep telling myself.

I was hanging with the girls, celebrating my divorce, when I saw him - my crush, sitting in the corner of the bar, all alone. Being single and looking for a wild night, I asked him if he wanted to join me. To my delight, he said yes. On paper, it seemed like I had hit the jackpot. And if I wasn't fresh from a toxic marriage, I would have absolutely noticed the finer things about him. But, I wanted nothing to do with being married, so when I arrived back home from my eventful weekend in Vegas, the last thing I expected to see was a new doting husband already moved in. 

As the most hated player in baseball, I had two options: either clean up my image, or pack my bags. Being traded wasn't an option which only meant one thing, I had to become compliant. That's how I found myself sharing a small bistro table with Kate Chapman, the Chicago Bobbies newest PR Manager. Devastatingly beautiful, vastly intelligent, and incredibly cunning, she knows exactly how to handle my grumpy demeanor. It was supposed to be simple. Book some PR events, show up, smile for the camera, and be done. But one massive mistake on my end sends me into the trenches with Kate.

The quintessential question asked to every couple. And the answer is usually some bubbly, lovey dovey tale of being struck in the bum by Cupid’s arrow. My meet cute (well, not so meet cute) is slightly different. I was trolling a wealthy neighborhood in Beverly Hills, searching for someone to take me as their bride, you know, to make my arch nemesis jealous who consequently just fired me. 

Am I friends with JP Cane? Ha! That's laughable. Besides the fact that he’s adopted some far-fetched notion from the movie When Harry Met Sally that says men and women can't be friends and work together, it’s safe to say we're not friends. He's annoyingly loud, obnoxiously handsome, and has made an art out of poking all my hot buttons...multiple times a day. So you can imagine how disgruntled I am when I not only have to fly to San Francisco with him for work, but stay in the same penthouse. Yup, we're sharing the same air, 24-7. We're talking full-fledged working roommates.

When the publicity team of the new local restaurant Going in Blind begins their search for a hot, local celebrity to promote the wildly popular eatery, they couldn't have found a better person than Noely Clark. A hopeless romantic with an exceedingly demanding schedule, she found it impossible to find the man of her dreams so being set up on three very different, very attractive, and very distinctive blind dates, seemed like a great idea, but who will she choose?

How do you date your best friend's sister? Easy...At least - that's what I thought was going to happen. But my attempts to win over Julia Westin backfired in more ways than I can count. The thing about Julia? She's smart - really smart - and her wicked gaze cuts through all the charm I've tried slinging her way. She's not interested in games, my gifts, or my stories. She might want me too; but she's not giving in that easy....

How did I go from being insulted by Charlee Cox to hiring her to be my assistant? How is it that she’s chaos in color - making me crazy and my life better at the same time? I never thought I would be staring down at her bright blue eyes begging me to go along with the ridiculous scheme I suggested. Yes, I suggested it. Like the idiot I am, I thought hey, why not start an HR nightmare and have my assistant ask me to marry her? Confused? Don’t worry, so am I. 

From USA Today best-selling author Meghan Quinn comes a sassy and sweet romance about an Irish rebel who falls in love with the wrong girl. Full of witty banter and swoony moments, it's the perfect romantic comedy to binge on. 

Reese King: Olympic medalist, underwear model, Greek god. His body is chiseled from rock, sculpted by the weight room, and refined by water. On a daily basis his skin is completely bare for everyone to see, tan and defined, covered up only by a minuscule piece of spandex. There is no denying his sex appeal. I hate to admit it, but I'm head over heels infatuated with him.

Have you heard the rumor around campus about the locker room? If you haven't, let me enlighten you: Legend has it, if you bring a girl into the sacred aftergame domain of the baseball locker room, it will end with a walk down the aisle. But not all baseball players are superstitious, me included. So, when the girl I've fallen for brushes me off, I start to question if I need to switch my way of thinking. Maybe, it's time I finally hand out a coveted invitation to the locker room. The only question is, will she accept?

"She went home with someone else that night?" I would like to make it known, I have a lot more swagger than what it seems. I don't normally ask a girl out, have her fail to recognize it's a date, and then give me a high five - as if I'm her wingman - and take off with someone else. No. Normally I'm the one taking the girl home, but with Stella, it's been one failed attempt after another and frankly, I'm done trying. But thanks to my best friend getting married in Hawaii right before the school year starts, I'm stuck on a tropical island.

Oldest story in the book: boy meets girl, boy falls for girl, boy screws up massively, girl tells boy to suffocate in the fruits of his very own unborn children. Heard it before? I'm sure you have. So what's so different about this story? Well, it's about me, The Modern Gentleman, New York City's top advice columnist, and my rather ungraceful downfall from my pristinely polished pedestal. It's about a girl I met who threw all my proven theories to the wind and left me awkward, needy, and absolutely head-over-wing-tipped shoes in love.

I’ve recently become the pawn of a meddling mom. Yes...a meddling mom - who's been trying to set me up all summer. Now, I understand it’s not a crime for a mother to want her child to fall in love, but when she makes it her relentless mission, the heinous act should be classified as a misdemeanor at least. Of course, my mom, the evil matriarch in the devil’s leggings, made her final stab at finding a girl for me days before I went back to college.  

I'm single...so single it's painful. Yup, ladies, Brig Knightly - that's me - is still a lonely bachelor, stumbling through the streets of Port Snow, looking for the girl he's supposed to end up with. That is, I was until my brother, Rogan, presented me with the opportunity of a lifetime. The Summer of Love, a secret pen-pal program in Port Snow is looking for applicants, and I'm the perfect fit. I couldn't sign up fast enough. I found myself quickly falling in love with a pair of red lips at the bottom of a letter...just like in the movies.