I want a girl I can't have. She's my tutor. My best friend's girlfriend. And my kryptonite. She also looks really good in my T-shirt. But she wants the golden boy, and I'm more of the villain type. Or at least I was.... Until I saw her smile for the first time. But the good guy she wants wouldn't lust after his friend's girlfriend. And the good guy she's with sure as hell shouldn't be sneaking around behind her back. So where the hell does that leave me?

Jess: Meet Mark Donovan. Ex-Army sniper. CEO of a multi-billion dollar global empire. Chiseled to the nth degree. And a man I want nothing to do with.I know the type. Dangerous. Sexy. A bad-boy who fills out a Tom Ford suit or pair of Calvin's in equally drool-worthy ways. At his core, the worst kind of heartbreaker. The kind who doesn't even know he did it.

He won’t tell me his last name, and maybe that should throw up a thousand red flags, but when I’m all alone in a new city and struggling to make ends meet, his texts are the lifeline I’ve been desperate for. I never would have answered that text if I’d known that Lincoln Daniels—superstar hockey player extraordinaire—was the one sending it. He’s trying to sweep me off my feet now. He says he’s obsessed. He wants me to wear his number…permanently. But is he still the wrong number, or can this hockey god prove he’s Mr. Right?

I should have run the other way. Paid my tab and gone back to my room. But he was there. And he was…everything. I figured, what’s the harm in letting passion rule my decisions for one night? So what if he looks like the Devil in a suit? I’d be leaving in the morning, flying home to my pleasant but predictable life. I’d never see him again. Except I do. In the last place I expected. And now everything I’ve worked so hard for is in jeopardy.

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”.

K19 Allied Intelligence, a covert paramilitary operations unit, is the world’s most secretive, deadly, and lowest profile special ops organization. When innocent lives are threatened, this team has the strength and intelligence to save them. As the K19 Allied Intelligence Team One agents gear up for counterattacks, the war on trafficking ignites. Come hell or high water, these agents will take down the enemy one by one.

I'm the girl you'll never see coming. Blink and you're dead—another target checked off my list. Until one night, my carefully ordered existence falls apart. A bloodbath and a car crash later, I find myself in the grasp of four gorgeous, intimidating men. My captors claim they're holding me for my protection. I can't quite believe that.

My ex taking our daughters to Disneyland is his latest way to prove Dad Rules and Mom Sucks. While they're riding roller coasters, I'm taking a trip of my own—a long deserved island getaway for one. And I'm letting my oldest's swim coaches stay at my place while we're all gone, and their apartment is fumigated. Except a last minute work emergency means I'm stuck at home, rather than lying on a beach enjoying the view.

The Lords own me, and they are never going to let me go. At least, that’s what they tell me. Lord Alaric Cross. Lord Gideon St. Claire. Lord Sterling Beauchamp. Lord Theodore Wolf. Four brooding men who make my worst nightmares seem tame. To the public, they are titled aristocrats with royal lineage. In secret, they make up the Lords of Darkness—an ancient order that rules the underbelly of England with a lethal, iron fist, leaving skeletons in their wake. And as fate would have it, my father was the fifth Lord of Darkness. His sudden death means I am now a Lady of Darkness.

Gabriel Corso is the stuff of nightmares and dirty dreams. He's a sinfully gorgeous mafia prince from a brutal rival family. In school, he was the bane of my existence. The dark villain to my sheltered princess. Then–poof–he disappeared. If only he’d stayed away. Turns out, our marriage is a term of his inheritance and now he’s returned to collect what’s his. That means ripping me from my gilded cage. It means locking me beneath his searing flesh. It means war. I’m not supposed to like it. To beg for more. To fall for him.

Roman: I’m demanding. I’m strict. I get what I want. And I want Lucy Neill. She is mine. She is my girl. My little. My life. My world. She just doesn’t know it yet. Lucy: I lost my job. I have no idea what I'm going to do next. I should not be spending Friday night at a club. I can’t help myself. The club calls to me. The owner calls to me. I crave the forbidden. I never realized how much I needed a daddy.

I have a confession. I hate bachelorette parties. A night of awkward dancing, penis-shaped straws and being told “you're next, Kaitlyn!” Even worse: It's hosted at a super swanky Miami club where I stick out like a sore thumb. Couldn’t get any worse, right?

My girls and I do most everything together anyway, so why not go watch this Zairn Lomond guy be interviewed? Jane and Toria are into him--seriously into him. I can shake a proverbial pom-pom for their obsession. Of course, if someone has to win the round-the-world tour of Lomond’s nightclubs, it has to be me. Cool. No big deal. I can work from anywhere, and who says no to free five-star travel?

If you ever get married, remember my name: Max Henderson. In my line of work, you acquire a certain perspective on supposedly everlasting unions. But some guys are willing to take a chance. Like my brother, who thinks he’s going to ride off into the sunset with the woman of his dreams in a haze of glitter on unicorns. And the wedding planner - the green-eyed beauty who makes a living convincing suckers to shell out thousands of dollars on centerpieces - is raking it in on this matrimonial monstrosity. As the best man, I know her game - and I can play it better than her.

Gabe Marchionni, New Orleans’ most eligible bachelor, has a problem...and it’s wrapped in a pink blanket. What in the heck is the reluctant new head of a mafia family supposed to do with an infant? Simple. Go find the woman he dumped years ago and convince her to give him a second chance. Maggie Guthrie is broke, exhausted, and raising her deceased sister’s kids. She’s also a reporter by day and desperately needs to get the scoop on one of the most illustrious families in the French Quarter, the Marchionnis...even if that means running into her ex.