A stranger online. Dark hair and even darker eyes that knew my dirty desires before I did. A fantasy that should never be spoken. But he pulled the confession from me. And now he's coming for me. Rough. Dirty. Dangerous. It's supposed to be one night to get me off and make me forget. He'll make me his and I'll pretend I don't want him to. I'll run and he'll chase. Because I asked him for this. I begged him for this. Tonight, in the darkness, he's the hunter. And I'm the bait.

The man upstairs in apartment six doesn't belong here, in our rundown block on the slum side of the city. High-class and educated, suited and booted, and at least thirty years my senior. Yes. Thirty whole years. But that doesn't matter. He's absolutely gorgeous. What does matter is they say he's a disgraced teacher who preys on his college students. A filthy, sick man who deserves prison.

When your eyes land on a complete stranger on the train, and the world around you stops. When the stranger says hello, and your heart stops, too. When the universe answers your prayers and he's there, next day, on the train. A man so powerful—brooding with darkness and secrets. I knew there was going to be more. I wanted more. When the stranger is reading one of your favorite novels, and you're reading one of his. When you think the universe can't be any kinder, but it truly delivers the jackpot of all jackpots and two opposite worlds collide, as though it was meant to be. 

They call him the puppet master. They say he's dirty, dark and dangerous. And they're right. He's everything they say he is, and more. So much more.... Alexander Henley has no idea I exist. No idea whatsoever how much I want him. But that's all about to change.

Carrie Wells is nothing but trouble. She's wild and difficult. Not worth anyone's time. Carrie Wells is a beautiful little brat. She's also a vulnerable young adult on my case list.... I'm breaking every rule of friendship by holing her up in my best friend Jack's house while he's away on business. I thought life was difficult enough when I fell for the girl, but it gets a whole lot harder when Jack comes home early and finds a beautiful stranger causing chaos in his house.

I’d been prom queen and cheer captain—high school’s most savage Queen Bee. I could have everything I wanted. Except them. The freaks, the weirdos, the school’s ultimate losers: Manson, Jason, Lucas, and Vincent. Our hatred for each other couldn’t keep us apart, not even when my own mistake got Manson expelled and made me the ultimate villain to the rest of them.

Three months on a private island. Two men. One million dollars. All I have to do is tame Nash Wilde. It’s been two years since my sister and her boyfriend were killed in a plane crash. The last person I expected to show up on my doorstep was his father, Alistair Wilde. Yet, he came with an offer I’d be an idiot to pass up: be his son’s girlfriend for three months, live with the two of them in a remote house, and the one million dollars is mine. 

Broken down, and wounded by my emotionally neglectful ex, I wanted someone to tell me I was good enough. Then, I stumbled into a new job with a boss who brought me to my knees - literally. He has me do things a real secretary would never do. Emerson Grant tells me I’m more than just good enough. I’m worthy of his praise. There are a million reasons why I should stay away. The owner of the Salacious Players’ Club is not just my new boss - he’s twice my age. And my ex-boyfriend’s father....I’m a good girl, but I’m falling for the wrong man.

When you've been told your whole life that something is sinful, you have two options. Avoid it like the plague, like it has the power to destroy all that is good and pure. Or become as fixated upon it as Eve was upon that apple. I'm sick of the push-pull of terror and temptation. It's tearing me apart. I just want a bite of the apple. More than a bite. I want to devour it. Have its juices spill from my lips. And by apple, I, of course, mean sex.

I've been faithful long enough. I never claimed to be a good man, but I've always done what was expected of me. Find a nice girl. Get married. Have children. That was my duty as a good Christian man. And everything was going as planned when I met Briar. Beautiful. Charismatic. Sexy. But marriage is hard, and after seven years, I feel like I'm failing. Then, a figure from my past enters the picture.

Goodness, I have no idea what I'm doing. I’m a virgin attempting to write a romance novel and I'm having an impossible time trying to write a passionate and swoon-worthy love scene worthy of being published, thanks to my lack of experience...This is the story of my awkward, humiliating, and slightly terrifying life, but like all romance novels, I know it will end in a happily ever after. At least that's what I keep telling myself.

After being a soldier, working as a bodyguard should have been simple: Keep the owner of DC’s ultra-secret club safe, don’t think about his midnight eyes or his devil’s smile, don’t surrender my body to his wicked desires. But I underestimated Mark Trevena and the power of his dark, seductive world. I underestimated the hold he’d have on me, the way I would do anything for him at all. And so when he asks me to escort his soon-to-be bride home, I can only—miserably, broken-heartedly–say yes.

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.

I’ve known all my life that the Constantines deserved to be wiped from the face of the earth, only a smoking crater left where their mansion once stood. That’s my plan until I see her, the woman in gold with the sinful curves and the blonde curls. My will to dominate her runs as deep as the hate I have for her last name. No matter how beautifully she bends beneath my hands, I'll leave her shattered, a broken toy for her cruel family.

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?