Derek Rosewood is never going to marry-ever again. Fresh off the heels of a bitter divorce, there are only three things he cares about: his daughter, his career, and his bachelorhood.
An attorney by trade and happily married to his job, he saves the drama for the courtroom and keeps women at arm’s length. Their fragile, sequined hearts are safer that way. And besides, he’s not in any condition to offer them the love and attention they so foolishly seek from him.
It’s not until he’s assigned as the financial conservator for an aloof, enigmatic heiress that he finds his professional-and personal-boundaries pushed to the wayside. They’re all wrong for each other. Emotionally unavailable. Bitter. Jaded. And he’s supposed to look out for her best interests. Protect her.
But this wasn’t supposed to happen. And for that reason, Derek Rosewood pleads the fifth.
Contains mature themes.

Filthy mouth. Dirty mind. Messy past. I’m no saint, and I hear my reputation precedes me, but you can’t believe everything people say.
I’ve made a living playing by the rules only when the clock is ticking, the ball has been snapped, and I’m cleat-deep in AstroTurf. But I screwed up last year. I went too far with the girls and the partying and the benders. As a result, the team owner sentenced me to live in some gated, Floridian retirement village until I can “calm down.”
The rules are clear: no girls, less booze, zero publicity stunts. If I lay low and repair my reputation, I won’t get cut. It’s that simple. Everything was going well. For the first time in my life, I was living by someone else’s rules . . . and then she showed up for the summer.
My next door neighbor’s great niece is visiting, and it doesn’t take long for me to see Delilah Rosewood is the perfect mix of sexy and smart. She makes me want to break all the rules and draw every penalty just to get a taste. But there’s one problem: she hates me with the passion of a thousand Florida suns.
Contains mature themes.

My obsession was born of innocence and good intentions, and it began the day I spotted a handwritten journal lying in the bushes outside a townhouse on Lexington Avenue. It was raining sideways that morning, and my plan was to return it the next day, safe and dry. Only I kept it. I kept it, and I read it.
A week later, overwhelmed with curiosity and feeling guilty for harboring secrets that didn’t belong to me, I tried to return it. Only I wasn’t expecting to meet him.
Unapologetically heartless and enigmatically sexy, he claims he knows nothing about the journal I found outside his place, but the reticent glint in his blue-green gaze tells me otherwise.
There’s something different about him, something damaged yet magical, and I’m drawn to him, pulled into his orbit. There’s just one problem. The more I get to know him, the more I’m positive the journal belonged to him . . . and the more I find myself hoping, selfishly, that I’m wrong.
Contains mature themes.

It was New Year’s Eve, and I should’ve been ringing in the night with cheap champagne and bad decisions at home in New York. Instead I found myself holed up in some hotel room in Southern California.
But I wasn’t alone. I was in the company of a fellow stranded traveler by the name of Cristiano. We spent one night together-forced into the same hotel room by the snowstorm that canceled our flights and changed our lives.
His dimpled smile, panty-melting kisses, and charming wit were a temporary distraction from the chaos of the day . . . or the past year. But as soon as morning broke, I set my sights on getting home. I rented a car, mapped out my 2,749 mile journey, and packed my bags.
Only Cristiano insisted on joining me. He needed to get home, too. His best friend was getting married on Saturday. And he refused to let me go it alone. It wasn’t safe, he said.
Trekking across country with an alluring stranger was certainly one of the more adventurous moments of my life. Falling for him was certainly one of the most daring. But uncovering his secrets? That was the most challenging. And the truth I learned . . . would shatter us both.
Contains mature themes.

It was just a party. A silly little celebration with champagne and my best friends. As I blew out the candles on my divorce cake, I said goodbye to my failed marriage and embraced my future with open arms. But I didn’t know the future was going to come in the form of a mysterious stranger sitting at the end of the bar, stealing glances all night. And I didn’t know it at the time, but my future even had a name . . . Dante Amato.
Over the weeks that followed, he pursued me with reckless abandon. He broke down my walls and ignored all the reasons we were completely wrong for each other. He made me feel something I hadn’t felt in years . . . something so real it terrified me. But the moment I let him in-just when I began to let myself fall for this dashing stranger-he dropped a bombshell that changed everything.
Contains mature themes.

His name is Royal, but he’s no prince charming. He’s not even a prince-though you could say I loved him once upon a time.
He was my older brother’s best friend. Growing up, he sat at our dinner table every Sunday, teased me mercilessly, and pretended I annoyed him. When I was old enough, he took me on my first date.
Royal taught me how to drive. Escorted me to my junior prom. Gave me my first kiss . . . amongst other things. He was my first taste of toe-curling, all-consuming, can’t-sleep love.
We had our whole lives ahead of us. There was never anyone else for me but him. And then he disappeared. No letter. No explanation. Not even a good-bye.
I’ve spent the last seven years trying in vain to forget my first love, but just when I think I’ve finally moved on, guess who’s back in town?

“The most humiliating moment of my life begins with an early morning message from my ex’s notoriously heartless best friend. Jovie– In no way does this mean my opinion of you has changed. I’m reaching out because sometime in the middle of last night you tagged yourself in Jude and Stassi’s engagement photo. I don’t care if you were drunk or it was unintentional. I suggest you remove it immediately since the wedding is in two months (which I’m sure you know since you were clearly FB stalking them). The damage is done, but there’s no reason to make things more awkward. You’re welcome. Stone I waste no time removing my accidental tag before the sharp-tongued novelist in me fires off a response to the man who harbored extreme and inexplicable hatred of me during the three years I dated his best friend in college. But I didn’t expect him to respond. And nothing could have prepared me for what he would say…or for all the ways this gorgeous villain with cruel icy blues would become the biggest plot twist my life had ever known.”

I didn’t know her name, but I heard her laugh, tasted her lips, and felt her warm skin as I held her in my arms. Together, we watched our young children playing in the sand, the warm ocean lapping at the shore behind them as the setting sun painted the sky. She was my soulmate, and this was our life, our beautiful forever…Then I woke up–alone in a hospital room, connected to wires and machines.There was no wife, no kids, not a single soul waiting for me. That life I dreamt of–it never existed.The woman I loved, the woman I knew better than I knew myself–she wasn’t real.But then she walked into my life six months later…only the woman of my dreams was the one woman I could never have.AUTHOR’S NOTE: This angsty contemporary romance contains NO cheating or love triangles.

The last time I saw Nevada Kane, I was seventeen and he was loading his things into the back of his truck, about to embark on a fourteen-hour drive to the only college that offered him a full ride to play basketball.
I told him I’d wait for him. He promised to do the same.
But life happened.
I broke my promise long before he ever broke his-and not because I wanted to.
We never saw each other again . . .
Until ten years later when Nevada unexpectedly returned to our hometown after an abrupt retirement from his professional basketball career. Suddenly he was everywhere, always staring through me with that brooding gaze, never returning my smiles or “hellos.”
Over the years, I’d heard that he’d changed. And that despite his multi-million dollar contracts and rampant success, life hadn’t been so kind to him.
He was a widower.
And a single father.
And rumor had it, he’d spent his last ten years trying to forget me, refusing to so much as breathe my name . . . hating me.
But just like a rebound, he’s back.
And I have to believe everything happens for a reason.
Contains mature themes.

Trey Westcott–devastatingly gorgeous. Intimidatingly brilliant. Powerful beyond belief. A man with all the money in the world–literally. As the first trillionaire in existence, my boss lives a life most people can only dream of. Anything he wants–anything at all–is a snap-of-the-fingers away. But when the coldhearted magnate snaps his fingers and requests me for a stint on his arm playing the role of his devoted fiancee and then some, he makes an offer I can’t refuse. And so I don’t. But I make it clear that he’ll have my time, my body, my attention, my discreet professionalism–everything except my heart. It’s not for sale. Because all the money in the world can’t change the secret I’ve kept the last eight years. A secret that complicates the very business deal I’m to help him secure. A secret that makes the undeniable tension between us all the more forbidden. Trey Westcott can have anything he wants…but he can never have me. Even if he’s all I’ve ever wanted.