So, my Chihuahua fell in love with a bear. Excuse me, a giant, bear-like dog. Now, the bear’s scorching hot owner is on my case, demanding an STD test...for my pet. Another problem with this doggy love affair? The bear’s mysterious owner may be the key to funding my new venture and taking my toys company to the next level. And by “toys", I mean the fun kind, the kind every woman (and man) needs. If only I could figure out what he’s hiding - or get my libido to behave. Because mixing business and pleasure is a bad idea, and Dragomir Lamian may not be who he seems. 

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. 

Finding a good roommate through a classified ad isn’t as easy as it sounds. I was starting to lose hope. Until a knock at my door came, and God answered my prayers. Except...uh...wrong prayer, God. I’d definitely requested the big guy find me a drop-dead gorgeous man on more than one occasion...just not as my roommate. Declan Tate talked me into interviewing him anyway. While he was amusing and charismatic, I wouldn’t have been comfortable living with a man, so I regretfully declined. Then, cupcakes showed up at my door.

Life threw me a curveball. An adorable eight-pound, four-ounce curveball with her mother’s eyes and my dark hair. I’d like to think my single-dad game is strong, but honestly? I’ve been struggling a little. When a beautiful young woman moves in next door and offers to give me a hand, I jump at the chance to hire her as a nanny. Jessa is amazing with my daughter. She’s also patient, kind, and way too pretty.

She's sharp as hell, and she's also the lush little harpy who's been rubbing me wrong since we were kids. If it’d been any other damsel in distress looking to shake some unwanted attention, I'd have been the perfect fake boyfriend for all of five minutes. But Laurel brings out the bastard in me, and five minutes hardly seemed enough time to make her squirm. She wants to one-up me. But I want to win. And maybe I need a favor too.

He's cold, hard, and undeniably arrogant. That's how Andrew Blake's best friends describe him. Bad luck for me that I'm his new assistant. Nothing I do is good enough. I'm beginning to wonder if there's a heart in that tall, hard, gorgeous body of his. After work, I'm complaining about him to my new best friend - the bartender at the pub, near the office. Guess who's seated behind me, and has heard every gripe, grumble and grievance? By the look in Andrew's eye, I can't tell if I'm going to get fired or kissed.

Let me make a few things clear. I didn’t go to the wedding intending to dance with the best man, to dare him to show me a very sexy pic on his phone, or to accidentally kiss him in the hotel elevator after the reception ended. But things just happen at weddings. The next day, Crosby and I agree to put all those shenanigans behind us. The fun-loving, stupidly gorgeous, all-star baseball player might be my brother’s best friend, but he’s my good friend too and has been for years. I can't risk losing him, even though now I can't stop thinking about how I want him to be my first.

It’s natural to want the one you can’t have. And for as long as I could remember, I’d secretly wanted my brother’s best friend, Jace. He was six years older and always treated me like the sister he never had. Fast forward a decade. We were all in our 20s now. Jace had moved in with my brother, Nathan, and me to help us make ends meet after our parents died. It was just the three of us - an odd family dynamic. Living under our roof, Jace was as bossy and protective as ever. But he certainly didn’t look at me like a sister anymore. That was what made things so complicated.

A daredevil prince wants to pay me mega-bucks to train him to hold his breath underwater for 10 minutes? Sign me up. Except I’m a magician, not a stunt consultant. My record-beating dive without air was a trick. Of course, I can’t tell that to my client, the royally hot Anatolio Cezaroff, a.k.a. Tigger. Not if I want to be able to pay my rent. Also, I’m not exactly comfortable around germs. All germs, including those lurking on uber-attractive men. So falling for my gorgeous client is out of the question, and I fully intend to keep my distance.

On the run from ruthless killers, I’m down to 10 bucks in my wallet and a half-tank of gas in my ancient car when I spot the ad for a live-in tutor. The job sounds like the answer to my prayers, but there’s a catch. The child’s father is the most beautiful, most dangerous man I’ve ever met. Darkly seductive and filthy rich, Nikolai Molotov is a tantalizing mystery, a lethally alluring contradiction. Bruised knuckles and tailored suits, tender endearments and dirty promises - my new employer draws me in like a magnet, even as my instincts scream for me to run. 

My grandparents’ grumpy neighbor is as hot as the lethal Florida sun. And like the sun, he’s bad for me. My taste in men is the worst - just ask my ex and his restraining order. What am I doing in Florida with my grandparents, you wonder? Well, my best friend is an octopus, and he needs a bigger tank. So, I took a job at an aquarium in the Sunshine State. I didn’t expect that sexy, long-haired grump to make out with me during a late-night swim at the beach. And the last thing I expected was to run into him on my first day, at my new job, where he’s my boss.

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Or does it? Okay, let me explain. I broke into my crush’s dressing room to sniff his tights (not in a pervy way, I swear!) and got busted while, um... you get the idea. He then kind of, sort of blackmailed me into agreeing to a fake green card marriage with him. But hey, I’m not complaining. Next thing I know, we’re on a flight to Vegas to make our friends and family think we had a crazy drunken night and, in the spur of the moment, tied the knot. Except… that’s exactly what happens.

My name is Blue - insert a mood-related joke here - and I’m a femme fatale in training. My goal is to join the CIA. Unfortunately, I have a tiny issue with birds, and the closest I’ve come to my dream is working for a government agency that’s disturbingly up-to-speed on everyone’s sexts, rants in private Facebook groups, and secret family chocolate-chip cookie recipes.

It started when I hosted a little party for a bunch of new friends. Though “friends” might not be the right word since the invitees were all the women I’d found out my boyfriend was talking to behind my back. When the guest of honor walked in—aka my now ex—things took a turn…. Unfortunately, a stranger witnessed the whole blowout. I was in a mood that night and ended up giving this gorgeous guy an attitude, too. As if my night could get any worse, before he stormed off, he informed me he was actually my landlord.

Dean Moser is a cocky stock market savant whose friends are all settling down, leaving Boulder's infamous ladies' man all alone. When Norah needs a fake date for her parents' anniversary party, her new silent investor is the perfect guy for the job. It seems like a foolproof plan.... That is until Norah decides to break her biggest rule and lock lips with Dean in the middle of the party to spite her meddling mother.

So, my Chihuahua fell in love with a bear. Excuse me, a giant, bear-like dog. Now, the bear’s scorching hot owner is on my case, demanding an STD test...for my pet. Another problem with this doggy love affair? The bear’s mysterious owner may be the key to funding my new venture and taking my toys company to the next level. And by “toys", I mean the fun kind, the kind every woman (and man) needs. If only I could figure out what he’s hiding - or get my libido to behave. Because mixing business and pleasure is a bad idea, and Dragomir Lamian may not be who he seems. 

A daredevil prince wants to pay me mega-bucks to train him to hold his breath underwater for 10 minutes? Sign me up. Except I’m a magician, not a stunt consultant. My record-beating dive without air was a trick. Of course, I can’t tell that to my client, the royally hot Anatolio Cezaroff, a.k.a. Tigger. Not if I want to be able to pay my rent. Also, I’m not exactly comfortable around germs. All germs, including those lurking on uber-attractive men. So falling for my gorgeous client is out of the question, and I fully intend to keep my distance.