The one that got away. Every girl has one, right? Mine was a charming, British aristocrat who turned my world upside down one summer. From the moment I first spotted Leo in the distance through my binoculars, I’d been captivated. I certainly never expected to find a man showering outside of the property across the bay in his birthday suit.

Our first meeting was at a wedding, where he followed me outside and kissed me. Our second meeting ended in a huge fight with me kicking him out. Our third meeting, I went on a double blind date. You can imagine my surprise when I saw familiar blue eyes across the table opposite my friend. Then, he sent me an email listing 30 reasons why I should go on a date with him. His list was some of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever read. And the funniest. We laughed hard and loved harder. Wild, handsome players don’t fall for innocent girls like me. Or do they?

They say that all men are created equal. Well, that’s a blatant lie! I know, because I met God's gift to women in Vegas; I pretended he was my husband to get rid of another man. He took our fake marriage seriously, and it became his personal goal to consummate. He spoke to me in French, and I lied to him in German. His laughter was addictive. But I thought what happens in Vegas would stay in Vegas. Until it didn't.

I’d sworn off men. And then I met Nick Christiansen. Technically, I fell for him, literally, the moment I landed in his quarterback-sized arms and looked into those soulful eyes. I blame the rum. Or was it tequila? Spoiler alert: It was those delectable dimples. Either way, Nick was stupidly handsome and ridiculously charming. He held me like he cared and listened to me like I mattered. Captivated by great conversation and rock-hard abs, Nick had me reconsidering the “No Men” promise I’d made myself. I still regret walking away the next day.

I first met Tristan Miles at a meeting where he was trying to take over my late husband’s company. He was powerful, arrogant, and infuriatingly gorgeous, and I hated him with every cell in my body. In the shock of the century, he called me three days later and asked me on a date. I would rather die than date a man like him - though I do have to admit it was good for the ego. Turning him down was the highlight of my year.

Ryder, Garrett, Kenzo, and Diesel - The Vipers. Their deals are as sordid as their business, and their reputation is enough to bring a grown man to his knees, forcing him to beg for mercy. They are not people you mess with, yet my dad did. The old man ran up a debt with them and then sold me to cover his losses. Yes, sold me. They own me now. I’m theirs in every sense of the word. But I’ve never been meek and compliant.

If people have polar opposites, Luca Rossi is mine. His butt is in the baseball hall of fame. Mine's comfortably seated in the hall of lame. When he's not snagging fly balls out in center field, he's modeling in shampoo commercials. I once jammed my own finger while stirring cookie dough, and sometimes I forget shampoo is a thing. He's a total cynic when it comes to love. I make a living writing love stories. But after my latest broken engagement (no, I don't want to talk about how many times that's happened), it's clear he's exactly the man I need.

From NYT and USA Today best-selling author A.L. Jackson comes a friends-to-lovers romance about an unattainable rock star and his best friend’s younger sister.

As longtime manager of Dirty, the hottest rock band on the planet, gorgeous and brooding Brody Mason has had his share of beautiful women. Yet, the only one he’s ever wanted is the one he never had - the one who tore his heart out. Beautiful and elusive Jessa Mayes appears to have it all. Talent, money, and a glamorous life. But she also has a secret. Six years ago, she ran away from her dream career as a songwriter with Dirty, and the only man she’s ever loved, without telling anyone why.

We start off with a lie on Valentine’s Day. My blind date isn’t the studious guy I expected: He’s a drop-dead gorgeous player with sinful amber eyes. Somehow we end up at his penthouse. I blame the gin and tonic. The next day I learn he’s Jack Hawke - bad-boy professional quarterback with a murky past.

Indulge in four best-selling stand-alone romances from number one New York Times best seller Lauren Blakely in the One Love Collection! Performed by Sebastian York, Andi Arndt, and Zachary Webber!

Homeless and heartbreakingly innocent, Giselle Riley walks into my penthouse and chaos follows. I shouldn’t have invited the girl genius to live with me, but it’s clear she needs my help--not only for a place to lay her pretty blonde head but in finding real love, which she’s not going to get with the crazy men she picks up online. Too bad she’s a twenty-four-year-old virgin and I’m a bad boy wide receiver. She’s off limits for a hardcore player like me--and we’re just friends. Instead, I’m her matchmaking service, no matter how jealous it makes me....

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....

I got her fired. Okay, so I’d had a bad day and took it out on a bystander in a pizza shop. But there’s nothing innocent about Ally Morales. She proves that her first day of her new job in my office, after being hired by my mother. So, maybe, her colorful, annoying, inexplicably alluring personality brightens up the magazine’s offices that have felt like a prison for the past year. Maybe, I like that she argues with me in front of the editorial staff. And maybe, my after-hours fantasies are haunted by those brown eyes and that sharp tongue.

I’ve tried to like Adrian Savage, the mercurial frontman for Fugitive Summer, while serving as his band’s opening act on tour. We’re stuck together for three months, after all. And I’m well aware I’m lucky to be here. But it’s proved impossible. He’s far too rude and dismissive a guy to get along with. And way too good at getting under my skin. In fact, at this point, I think it’s fair to say I downright hate his guts.