Christi

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.

Ryder Summers - The big, bad New York Vulcans linebacker with an anger-management problem to match. He's being sent to an exclusive beachside retreat to "heal" and "refresh." Read: Save his career. And I'm the sucker who has to escort him.

We shared the love of a lifetime. Too bad I don't remember any of it. Pieces of my life were ripped away without warning. My career, my control, my sense of self...it's gone. So are my memories of him. I now know him as the handsome doctor who was there for me when I first woke up after the accident. But before that, he was the love of my life. My everything. Or so I'm told.

Racer McKay is a broody bastard. From the moment I met him, he's been rude, irritable, and unbearable. And worse? He's broke. A contractor working to remodel my parents pool house for extra cash, he stomps around in those clunky construction boots with his tool belt wrapped around his narrow waist, and a chip on his shoulder. Racer McKay is also infuriatingly...sexy as hell. I want to take that pencil tucked behind his ear, and draw lazy lines slowly up and down his body all the while wanting to strangle him at the same time.

He's a better-than-a-Boy-Scout, trauma surgeon extraordinaire. Who just punched a patient in the nose. She's the director of the ER. And is now in charge of keeping her star surgeon in line until his suspension is over. First order of business is prying his perfect ass off the bar stool...and keeping her huge crush on him under control. Except he refuses to move until she agrees to - and then loses - a bet for 48 hours of her undivided attention.

I’m Harlow Grace, the newest, hottest face of Hollywood sex appeal, the woman every man wants and every woman wants to be... and I’m running away. I need an escape. I need to get away from the pressure, find somewhere I won’t be hounded at every step—an impossible thing to ask when I’m on billboards everywhere, from LA to Laos, Japan to Jakarta, Sydney to Siberia. So, I buy a yacht and hide out in the most obscure, remote, and unexpected place I can think of: Ketchikan, Alaska. Instead of a peaceful vacation, however, what I find in Ketchikan is trouble. The kind of trouble ...

I’d never forgotten him - a man I’d yet to meet. Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break. Until one day, it did. Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one - one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing. Griffin forgave me, and we were able to rekindle our childhood connection.

Lara and Sonny are sworn enemies. As rival showbiz journalists, they are always out to get one-up on each other – whether being the first to scoop the latest celebrity gossip, or sabotaging a potential lead. So when their bosses ask them to join forces and go undercover at an exclusive celebrity retreat, they can’t think of anything worse – except that they are going to need to pretend to be in couples therapy to blend in.

Confirmed bachelor Max Sterling isn’t into rescuing damsels in distress, but when the very tempting Hailey Ellison needs his help, there’s only one thing for him to do: step in and pose as her loving fiancé. Except there is nothing fake about his attraction to her, or how much he wants her beneath him in his bed, moaning his name. But what starts as a sexy, flirty, temporary engagement quickly becomes something more serious that neither one ever anticipated.

It started as a normal birthday celebration. Was there wine? Of course. Did I let loose with my best friends? Absolutely. Did I have one glass too many and follow a tattooed bad boy into a bar? Cue mortification. I don't do reckless, or wild nights of hot sex. Correction: I didn't used to. I also didn't plan to drunk-email my boss and quit my soul-sucking job, leaving me in a financial mess. But I'm churning those lemons into lemonade! I'm chasing my dream job at San Francisco's hottest restaurant. Guess who shows up as my competition? None other than my tattooed bad decision.