Lauren is a successful doctor with a healthy attitude toward sex, unashamed of her proclivities as a sexual dominant. She wants love and a family, but she's beginning to believe there is no Mr. Right willing to stand by her in sickness and health...and be cuffed, stripped, and smacked with a riding crop. Then her friend Lisette invites her to spend a long weekend on a private island. It turns out Lisette can't come with her, but Lauren opts to go anyway, with no one for company but Joshua, the island caretaker, and his visiting friend, Marcus.

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.

Don't get me wrong, waking up to discover my ex-husband finally killed me wasn't fun. Finding out I had to get a job and pay Afterlife taxes about 10 minutes later? Let's just say, this wasn't exactly the eternal reward I was hoping for. But beggars can't be choosers, and being a demon sure as hell beats my last occupation. I’m well on my way to retirement behind the pearly gates when the impossible happens. The Risk Witches have a vision.

My name is Layla Thompson, and I am undateable. Seriously. I'm 28 and I've never had a boyfriend. And with my 30s rapidly approaching, I'm starting to lose patience. Lucky for me, I have three best friends who are eager to help hone my dating skills. Zack, the rugged ex-rugby player. Josh, the sweet boy-next-door. And Luke, the silver-haired divorcee...who just so happens to be my old professor. After a bad date leaves me crying on their shoulders, the three men are determined to help me find a guy. Together, they agree to be my "practice boyfriends".

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.