"A fantastically fun, HOT love story." - Kendall Ryan, New York Times bestselling authorAll I want is to play hockey on the Ice Knights, instead, I'm in a viral video for all the wrong reasons and my mom—yes, my mom—has taken over my dating apps. Then, when I think it can't get any worse, the fates deliver Zara Ambrose, a five-feet-nothing redhead with more freckles than inches and who'd rather be anywhere other than on a date with me. Now a bet with her friends and my PR nightmare have us both stuck in this go-on-five-dates-with-the-same-person hell situation. But if we band together, we can get the whole thing over with and go on with our lives. It's perfect! No feelings. No future. No fuc— *ahem* fun. No naked fun.What could go wrong? Nothing—as long as I remember the rules. Don't notice the way she looks in a dress. Don't react when she does that little shivery sigh thing whenever we touch. Don't think about...

I can't believe I have to go home to Nebraska for my sister's wedding. I'm gonna need a wingman and a whole lot of vodka for this level of family interaction. At least my bestie agreed he'd man up and help. Too bad he had to catch a different flight than me. Then, his plane got delayed. And finally—because bad things always happen in threes—instead of my best friend, his evil twin walks out of the airport. If you looked up doesn't-deserve-to-be-that-confident, way-too-hot-for-his-own-good billionaire in the dictionary, you'd find a picture of Grady Holt. He's awful. Horrible. The worst—even if his butt looks phenomenal in those jeans. Ten times worse? I told my family I was bringing my boyfriend with me...Now I have to spend the week pretending to be madly in love with the big jerk. Ugh, and share a bedroom. It's only gonna be a week. I can last that long without killing him or blowing my cover. Maybe. A whisper of a prayer. Oh God, this...

Special price. We're all in this together. Find your #HEAATHOMEBrooke Chapman-Powell takes her position as the Earl of Englefield's personal secretary very seriously. This job is what keeps her sister in her university for the deaf and the town from completely shutting down. But the earl's dying, and they have only one hope. An American. From some place called Salvation, Virginia.Now she'll have to teach the in-all-likelihood-uncouth-and-lazy half American how to be a proper earl if they hope to save the village. God help them all.Nick Vane has about two gazillion things that land higher on his to-do list than becoming an English earl. Things like naps. Hosting poker nights. Oh, and raking in the profits from his latest invention. Accepting the title his grandfather has denied him since birth? Doesn't. Even. Register. But Miss Prim and Proper won't give up, and before he knows what's what, he's on a plane to London.He's got too much pride to go down easily, and...

How exactly has one good deed landed me in the penalty box?Ice Knights defenseman Zach Blackburn has come down with the flu, and my BFF—his PR manager—begs me to put my nursing degree to use and get him back to health. Of course she would call in a favor for the most hated man in Harbor City.But when he's finally on the mend and I'm sneaking out of his place, everything goes sideways. Paparazzi spot me and pictures, plus accusations that I slept with him, fly faster than a hockey puck.At first, all of Harbor City wants my blood—or to give me a girlie-girl makeover. But then...the team finally wins a game. And now this fickle town wants me with the big jerk twenty-four seven.Argh. I never slept with him the first time! But no one will listen. Then the grumpy bastard goes and promises to break his no-fan-appearances rule to help raise money for a free health clinic—but only if I'm rink-side at every game. That's not a deal I can...

I never dreamed I'd meet my celebrity crush while stealing every single pair of my best friend's pants. Trust me, my life is not that wild. In fact, the most excitement I usually get is running my fan-favorite Insta thirst account featuring butt-tastic pics of Hollywood superhero Carter Hayes. So, imagine my shock when, in the middle of the cruise ship hallway, I realize the guy whose shirt I'm stuffing slacks inside of is Carter disguised as a tourist. How I manage not to faint dead away, I've got no clue. When word leaks that Carter might be on board, he asks me to help him maintain his cover. There's no way I'm gonna say no to that. I just don't share that I'm the anonymous woman behind the fan account that reported sighting him onboard. No biggie. Right? However, when things between us go from friendly to hot to OMG-I-can't-keep-my-clothes-on-around-him, all I can do is hope he never discovers my secret. You see, somewhere along the way, Carter went...

It's always the quiet ones… Uptight history professor Sam Layton may have the abs of a movie action hero, but he stopped believing in the joy of adventure a long time ago. However, when a one-night stand with a tattooed bombshell leads to a treasure map for the long-buried Rebecca’s Bounty, the call to action is too strong to ignore.  All Las Vegas cocktail waitress Josie Winarsky wants to do is paint. But when she lands smack dab in the middle in a mob plot, she has to push aside her dreams to find a treasure and save her family from harm. With Sam at her side and a Vegas loan shark on her tail, she’s running to save her life and her heart… RT Book Reviews award-winning author Avery Flynn brings you her signature sexy blend of sass and action in the steamy Laytons series: Dangerous Kiss, Dangerous Flirt and Dangerous Tease! The Layton series was first published in 2011 and 2012 and has been revised.

The only thing about me that's a size zero is the filter on my mouth. I've got a big personality, a big rack, and a big number on the scale. And I'm perfectly fine with that. But when some random guy suggests I might not be eating alone if I'd ordered a salad instead of a hamburger I'm shocked silent, which is a feat, trust me. That brings us to one sexy fireman named Frankie Hartigan. He's hot. He's funny... And he's just apologized for being late for our "date" then glared at the fat-shaming jerk. Next thing I know, he's sitting down and ordering himself dinner. I have no problem telling him I don't need a pity date...unless of course it's to my high school reunion next week. Oops where did that last bit come from? And what do I do now that he's said yes?! Because this is no make-over story, and I think Frankie is using me for something. I just have to figure out what...