Ashlie

Dr. Russell has a bad reputation around our hospital. I try to avoid him and his temper at all costs. It’s just as easy to admire his sexy, grip-it-while-he’s-ravishing-you hair and chiseled jaw from a healthy distance. Unfortunately, my plan crumbles when my trusty ol’ boss decides to swap his white coat for a Hawaiian shirt. His retirement leaves me with two terrible options: Switch specialties and spend months retraining or take an open position as Dr. Russell’s surgical assistant.

My honeymoon was almost everything I dreamed it would be - a tropical paradise, turquoise water, romantic walks on the beach, and loads and loads of mind shattering sex. The only thing missing was the groom. After seven years of coasting through a relationship with Michael, my senses were numb. A week of passion with a stranger was just what I needed to clear my head and take back control of my life.

Lily, you predictable perv. I knew you'd open this email faster if I tempted you with a glimpse of JT's "PP". Well, put your pants back on and grab some bubbly because I have much better news to share. I got a job! As of tomorrow, I'll be the new executive assistant at Lorena Lefray Designs. I am so excited, but there's one itty bitty problem: I won't be Lorena's assistant. I'll be working for her older brother, Julian.

I’m desperate and destitute when Lockwood Construction rolls into my small town with an offer too good to pass up: high wages to any able-bodied man willing to join their crew. Say no more. I throw on baggy clothes, tuck my long hair under a baseball hat, and apply for a job. Unfortunately, my half-baked idea of disguising myself as a guy is flawed from the beginning. As Shakira says, these hips don’t lie. Still, I like to think I might have pulled the whole thing off save for one thing: I know my boss.

Everyone in Cedar Creek, Texas, knows Jack McNight is an arrogant devil. Physically, I get it: he’s tan and fit, with coal-black hair that’s clearly been scorched by hellfire. Oh, and his personality? It burns just as hot. When I show up on the doorstep of Blue Stone Ranch, I’m run-down and rockin’ my last pair of underwear. I’m hoping for a savior, but instead, I find him. My opinion of Jack is marred by a dismal first impression, but his opinion of me is tainted even before I arrive. He’s heard I’m a spoiled princess there to take advantage of his goodwill.

Thirty days ago, my boss, Mr. Wolf of Wall Street, came to me with an offer I couldn't refuse: Sign my name on the dotted line and pretend to be his fiancée for one month. If I agreed, he would let me out of my employment contract with a "very generous" severance package. The rules were pretty simple: No intimate kissing, no actual sex. Just pretend to love each other for the press, even though I've secretly wanted to knock that sexy smirk off his face since the first day we met.

I woke up five hours late after a reckless one-night stand with the sexiest, cockiest, and most arrogant man I’ve ever met. My top two clients for my PR company left to my number one competitor, my roommate "accidentally" bleached my favorite suit, and my favorite coffee shop was shut down for "health concerns". Still, none of those things dimmed my excitement for what was supposed to be the best four o’clock signing session of my career. Then that sexy, arrogant one-night stand stepped into my office with a familiar smirk and introduced himself as my new, cocky client....

All reporter Savannah Seabrooke needs is 30 seconds of Dexter Caine's time. Catching up with the elusive billionaire to ask her single question is a challenge, but Savannah is equal to the task - until Dexter turns the tables, holds her hostage, and announces that she's his wife!

From wharf fights and school brawls to crumbling lives inside glittery mansions, one guy tries to save himself. Reed Royal has it all - looks, status, money. The girls at his elite prep school line up to date him, the guys want to be him, but Reed never gave a damn about anyone but his family until Ella Harper walked into his life.

I'm not too proud to admit that finding Mr. Right involves swiping right. Right? Welcome to dating in avocado toastland. Here I am, on my first blind date, ever, courtesy of a smartphone app and my two annoying best friends. So what is Chris "Fletch" Fletcher doing, walking across the room, looking at his phone like he's pattern matching a picture to find a real person he's never met before? Oh. Oh, no. The guy I drop-kicked in seventh grade cannot be my blind date. The guy who earned me this infernal nickname.