Who am I? These days, even I'm not sure how to answer that question. After years of trying to avoid serious relationships, I finally found a woman who made me want to settle down—and promptly lost her. To my best friend. What's a viscount to do now? Very naughty things, naturally. But my skill at smooth-talking the ladies has gotten me tangled up in a scandal that threatens to destroy my family's reputation and our livelihood. My salvation comes in the form of a sexy American hired by my mother to polish up my public image. How? With a fake relationship, of course. 

I'm in love with my best friend, but Jessica O'Connor sees me as only a friend. The fact that we had sex once and it was bloody awful doesn't help. But she finally ended her engagement with Domhnall Sterling, the Scot she took up with two years ago. Do I have a chance now? Maybe. If I can show her that we have chemistry. The sort that will burn so hot she'll forget all about that damn Scot.

Good-girl Erica Teague is out on bail, charged with a crime her ex-lover committed. A lifetime of sticking to the rules has left her broke, burned, and facing a trial and certain conviction, thanks to the evidence planted by her trust-funder ex. Desperate to experience one wild night of sizzling sex before her freedom is torn away from her, Erica heads to a notorious night club in search of a one-night stand - where a case of mistaken identity lands her in the arms of a hot Scot with a secret past.  

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.

I hate Christmas. As CEO of my company, I’ve banned decorations from the office, festive music from the lobby, and any kind of secret Santa gifts between employees are strictly forbidden. I’m heading to the airport, away from the Christmas lights and the mulled wine, heading for sunshine and margaritas when I get a call from Granny. She’s sprained her ankle and needs my help filling in for her as head of the village Christmas Committee. 

After my last romance turned into a dumpster fire, I did the only reasonable thing - I swore off men for all of eternity. So my bestie said she did the only reasonable thing - she signed me up for a freaking dating app. I thought it was a joke. But after too many martinis, I committed a cardinal sin. I slid into the DMs of the first eye-roll-inducing profile I found - @BigDeckEnergy. 

He's a billionaire heir. A grump supreme. Hater of people. Bigger hater of peopling with people. And my new fake boyfriend. "Emotionally unavailable" doesn’t even begin to describe Hayes Rutherford. He has more defenses than a nuclear missile silo. And he’s the ultimate catch of the century. At least, according to his bank statement. My job’s simple: Keep all interested ladies away from the walled-off heir, by pretending to be his one true love. But you know what they say about fake-dating a billionaire: It’s all fun and games, until the scandals start.

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. 

Hockey star Max Yearwood was everything I needed at the time - fun, sexy, up for anything, and only around for a few months, since he’d signed with a new team 3,000 miles away. Max proposed we spend the summer helping me forget my ex. It sounded like a good plan. Things couldn’t get too serious when we had an expiration date. Right? Though, you know what they say about the best-laid plans. 

Know what they say about never mixing business with pleasure? Yeah, no. The one about never sleeping with your boss? I ignored it too. I blame Aslan Spearman, the boss.

Reasons why I should not be drawn to Troy Serrano. Number one: He’s obnoxious. Number two: We were enemies more than a decade ago. Number three: He’s my friend’s ex-boyfriend. I could go on and on, really. When my boss gives me an unwanted assignment, and tells me it involves spending time with the grandson of one of our residents, the grandson turns out to be Troy. Lucky me. Four hours a week of having to deal with his insufferable personality and unsolicited advice - the only consolation is getting to stare at his annoyingly gorgeous face, in between our many arguments.

After years of scraping by, Nolan and I just landed the big break of a lifetime for our scrappy online restaurant review show. We’re going to New York for a month. Just the two of us. Together all the time. But I’ve already lost my best friend once, so I’ll do whatever it takes to resist thoroughly delicious Nolan again. Until I learn whatever it takes might cost me everything.

Welcome to Happy Cat, Georgia, where the men are hot, the romance is swoon-worthy, and the animals don’t play by the rules. This box set includes four stand-alone but linked romantic comedies, as well as a bonus novella featuring a British single dad who’s head-over-heels for his nanny.

He was gorgeous, older and guarded. I knew he was trouble from the moment we locked eyes. We met at work, on my first day as a barista. He smiled, I melted...then he tasted my coffee and threw it away. Again, the next day, and the next. He hated the coffee, yet still came back. I knew his game. He called my coffee death in a cup. I called him god’s gift to women. I wasn’t lying.

There are three words most men can’t resist - I dare you. So as you can see, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I had no choice when my buddies said, “I bet you can’t get that brunette beauty to kiss you before the night ends.” I proved them wrong, and oh how good it felt to be right when I swept the quick-tongued woman into my arms and kissed the breath out of her at the party. But, I made a slight miscalculation. Turns out she’s my brand new enemy.