Sasha Rubinstein is not on her game. Parenting with an absent (and objectively douchey) ex has never been easy, but, lately, the judgmental side-eye from people at school pick-up feels extra. It doesn’t help that some entitled dad—with his perfect t-shirts and perfectly punchable (yet adorable) face—keeps stealing the last after-school spots and school hoodies out from under her.

Look, I've had it bad for the girl with all the curves next door forever. She turned me down in high school and since I'm not a total douchecanoe, I lusted after her all by myself in my shower, and we stayed just friends for years. Now she's the adorkable librarian next door, and I'm the star quarterback of the best pro football team in the league. So when she asks me to be her fake date to her all-girls school reunion, I am totally down to show her off to the mean girls who bullied her back then so they can see just how incredible she is.

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".

What’s a broke tea witch to do when she’s about to lose her beloved café? No idea, but chugging magic mojitos and drunk-summoning the Devil was definitely the wrong call. Now, I’m stuck with the house guest from Hell—literally—and we couldn’t be more opposite: a homebody who brews healing teas and reads romance novels to her cats versus a sexy-as-sin playboy with a pitchfork tattoo on his butt and a fondness for public day-drinking. In the nude. Ergo, the pitchfork discovery.

Marrying the 70-something head of the Cosa Nostra to save my father is the only good deed I’ve ever done. I’m burning and bitter under the fake smile and tight dresses, but I was keeping it together. Was. Until my fiancé’s nephew turns up to dinner uninvited. Angelo "Vicious" Visconti. A beautiful monster with cheekbones as sharp as his tongue. They say I shouldn’t be scared of him, because nine years ago, he went straight. He’s barely a Made Man anymore. But I say, he’s the most dangerous Visconti of all.

Twenty-seven-year-old screenwriter Elle has the chance of a lifetime to write a big-budget movie set in New York City. The only problem? She’s had writer’s block for months, and her screenplay is due at the end of the summer. In a desperate attempt at inspiration, Elle ends up back in the city she swore she would never return to, in an apartment she could never afford (floor-to-ceiling windows, skyline views, and a new coffee shop to haunt included).

With ailing family to support, Evie Sage's employment status isn't just important, it's vital. So when a mishap with Rennedawn's most infamous Villain results in a job offer—naturally, she says yes. No job is perfect, of course, but even less so when you develop a teeny crush on your terrifying, temperamental, and undeniably hot boss. Don't find evil so attractive, Evie. But just when she's getting used to severed heads suspended from the ceiling and the odd squish of an errant eyeball beneath her heel, Evie suspects this dungeon has a huge rat . . . and not just the literal kind.

When my father passed away, I assumed my grieving would be as simple as closing a book and starting another. Only he had other plans. Leaving me his beloved tattoo shop, I’m stuck to figure out what exactly to do with it, all while being constantly reminded of him.

Asmodeus, Prince of Hell, just wants to make music. Jazz, specifically. Unfortunately, he’s a demon. And he’s supposed to be evil. Clearly, for Ash, a career as a musician isn’t exactly an option. Plus, he’s cursed. Sick of playing by the rules, Ash and his three brothers escape Hell in search of freedom on Earth. But it’s harder than they thought to keep their enemies off their tail. The four rogues quickly become the Underworld’s Most Wanted, and if they’re caught, the consequences will be dire. Yet everything changes for Ash when he meets a beautiful violinist who can see through his curse.

The Brodie Brothers Collection contains three full-length standalone single parent steamy romantic comedies. Not recommended for readers who dislike banter, text convos or sarcasm.

What do ice cream and Sadie Montgomery have in common? They're both ice cold, but one taste is never enough. I wanted to be friends - I would have even settled for her seeing me as anything but a nerd - but there was no getting through. So just like any hard-headed, red-blooded man out there, I made up my mind. I'd make my coworker fall for me.

Three unforgettable full-length steamy, suspenseful, small-town romance novels from NYT and USA Today bestselling author A.L. Jackson....

Twenty years as an army brat, and Ember Howard knew, too. The soldiers at the door meant her dad was never coming home. What she didn't know was how she would find the strength to singlehandedly care for her crumbling family when her mom falls apart. Then Josh Walker enters her life. Hockey star, her new next door neighbor, and not to mention he has the most delicious hands that insist on saving her over and over again.

Unable to shift for three months, Mateo Cruz knows all too well. His wolf has taken up residence in his head, taunting him night and day with vividly violent and carnal thoughts. Convinced he's cursed, he needs the help of a powerful witch before he literally goes insane. ​Evie Savoie has always obeyed the house rule of her coven: no werewolves. They're known for being volatile. So, when a distempered, dangerous werewolf strolls into the bar and almost strangles one of her late-night customers, she's ready to bounce him through the door. But she sees the desperation in his eyes....

I made a deal with my brother a long time ago to never date his teammates. Technically, Rowan Landry, the hot as hell center for the Chicago Falcons, is no longer my brother’s teammate. Or his best friend. Their college days are long behind them, and they barely talk now. Also, I’m not dating him—we’re just sleeping together. There’s a difference.