I’ve spent the better part of the last few years successfully avoiding my brother’s best friend, Weston Aldrich. As CEO of Andes Inc, the infuriatingly handsome and incessantly grumpy Weston also happens to be my new boss. It shouldn’t have been hard to continue avoiding him. After all, he’s on the executive floor, and I’m one of many copywriters. Weston has his own ideas about how things should go between us. He’s in my emails, leaving notes on my desk, and as if that’s not enough, he arranges for me to accompany him on a business trip.

Being a teacher isn’t necessarily my passion, but pissing my dad off is. He thinks teaching is beneath our family, and I love watching him squirm. But the joke’s on me. I’m completely obsessed with the quiet, beautiful girl in my class.

I didn’t notice her before... but now I do. Once I focus on her, I can’t take my eyes from my newest obsession. I need to know everything about her. Her past. Her present. The way she takes her coffee. Exactly how she smells after a spritz of perfume in the mornings. I notice the organized way she arranges her clothes in her closet. How she visits the same market each Saturday. The sounds of her breathing as I lie beneath her bed in silence. Violet is mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.

I was a basic bitch. My job was fast-paced, stressful, and a time suck, but I loved it. What I didn’t love was there was little time for the best kind of stress relief. I was looking for a little D in my life. Okay, I was looking for a big D, but only for a limited time. Because I needed three things. I needed someone who didn’t know me professionally. I needed nothing but casual, and, most importantly, I needed to come.

Running away from home at 17 wasn't easy. Let's face it, though, nothing before or in the ten years since has ever been easy for me. And I'm doing okay—sorta. I just need to keep scraping by, living under the radar. Staying out of people's way, off people's minds. When a man walks through my open patio door, stepping boldly into my home and my life, I should be scared, frightened, terrified. I must be more broken than I realized because I'm none of those things. I'm intrigued—and I'm wondering if the way to take control of my life is by giving in to him.

Aurelia Whitlock is an ex-stepsister I forgot long ago. Until she shows up as a design intern at my fashion company. And that's the easy part. The part where she heats my blood, drawing me away from my grumpy, miserable side is another. She has no business being here. The more I learn about how she got this job, the more perilous things become for me and my company. I can't trust her. I can't fire her. And I can't claim her full lips with mine.

The first time I met Merrick Crawford was during my job interview. Well, technically, I’d met him 20 minutes earlier when he’d barged into a fitting room a few doors down from my appointment. I yelled. He yelled. After an argument while standing in my bra, I proceeded to smash the door into the gorgeous jerk, trying to yank it shut. As you might imagine, I was freaked out when I discovered that the rude guy was my potential new boss. Yet he didn’t seem to recognize me. Or so I thought.... Until we wound up bickering again during my interview and he told me to go sniff my armpit.

Danny Walker, my big brother’s arrogant, powerful, handsome, and completely unobtainable best friend. He’s a ruthless tech tycoon, and I take calls from angry clients who can’t reset their passwords. He lives in a Grade II listed mansion with holiday homes worldwide, and I rent a room in a flat-share with my best friend and mice.

His name is Pestilence. At least, that’s what they called him in college after an outbreak of a certain, ahem, intimately transmitted infection on campus. Now in his thirties, Leo St. James is fully reformed from his playboy past. He has a fiancée and everything. Oh, no, wait. He lied about that. His fiancée doesn’t exist. But when Leo’s boss sees him with his hand cupped around Amelia Darcy’s face, Leo has no choice but to call her his bride-to-be and promise to bring her to his company retreat.

I’m not looking for a hero, and definitely not a fake relationship with my new boss, nightclub owner Dante Fury—over six feet of dark, hot, and dangerous. But he isn’t taking no for an answer. The plan was to run, live under the radar, survive. My life’s been destroyed by some very bad people and everything I know is gone—career, friends, family. I thought I could hide as a bartender at New Orleans’ hottest new club, Ember.

OnlyFans was just a steamy side-hustle to earn some extra cash. Once I saved up enough money for a house, I was going to put away my webcam for good. But when my boss Michael Bauer stumbled upon my page after a bachelor party? He became my biggest fan.

The first time I met Caine West was in a bar. He noticed me looking his way and mistakenly read my scowling as checking him out. When he attempted to talk to me, I set him straight -- telling him what I thought of his lying, cheating, egomaniacal ass. You see, the gorgeous jerk had wined and dined my best friend-smooth talking her into his bed, all along failing to mention that he was married. He deserved every bit of my tongue-lashing and more for what he'd done.

When romance novelist Kate Smith suddenly gets writer's block as she's beginning the final installment of her international best-selling erotic Bed 'n Breakfast series, she'll do pretty much anything to get her groove back. Like sneak into a Tire Depot waiting room because her words flow there just like complimentary coffee - smooth, sweet, and scorchingly hot. She manages to fly under the radar until the rugged and charming mechanic, Miles Hudson, notices the quirky redhead slinking in and out of the employees-only entrance. But she's way too intriguing to blow the whistle on.

Ever the sceptic, Rein Valdez hoped all of her dreams would come true when she scored a scholarship and got accepted into Oakhill University—a prestigious Fine Arts school in Chicago. She was convinced that this was going to be that new start she's been so desperately yearning for after she tragically lost her mother to an accident that almost killed her too.

Raise your hand if you’ve ever done this. Written a racy message and sent it to—oops—the wrong person. Yeah, me too. Except, I sent my latest Tales of a Naughty Virgin column detailing my fantasies about my hot, charming, thoroughly bangable next-door-neighbor to…my entire company. Did I mention I’m a children’s book editor? Well, I was. *Facepalm.* At least the column goes viral, but I’m still the gal who gets fired for her not-safe-for-work thoughts about the so-called “Mister Sexy Pants”.