Drowning in the murky waters of the mafia, I’m determined to find a way out. I have my sights set on becoming a film producer and won’t let anything or anyone stand in my way. Then my mother marries a retired Godfather, and I get the head of the Greek mafia as a stepbrother. Nikolas Stathoulis is set on ruining my well-laid plans. His ruthless reputation has me running for the safety of my apartment. But he’s always there. On campus. In my apartment. Expecting me to play by his rules.

The first time I laid eyes on Henley James, I was mesmerized. The chemistry between us was like nothing I’d ever felt. Impeccable suit, dimpled smile. He was charming and gorgeous, sophisticated and suave. He gave me his business card and asked me to call. His dating game was strong; I was gone from his first smile. I’d love to tell you our date was a raging success, but it wasn’t. Far from it. I decided right there on that day that Henley James and I would forever be mortal enemies; I would never think of him again.

Money or love? Which would you choose? You probably just answered the question in your head, thinking it's an easy decision. For me, it's not. Did I mention it's a lot of money? A hell of a lot. I needed to go far away to think it through. As I embarked on an impulsive trip, I hit a detour when I met sexy Carter in the airport lounge. We struck up a heated conversation. Then, he left. I thought I'd never see him again. But fate had other plans. Surprise! He was the pilot of my flight.

Riley Kennedy’s emails keep getting crossed with her male colleague, Kennedy Riley. The infuriating man forwards them along with his annoying commentary and unsolicited advice. At least she never has to see him in person, since they work in different locations…until they come face to face at the office holiday party. 

I'll show everyone I'm a threat, and they will fear me. For my family. I have to protect them. The second I hear the name Damien Vetrov I know I'm in trouble. He's an arrogant Russian God. I have zero intention of bowing to him. Ever. Attractive and lethal—he's such an intoxicating mixture. Every second we spend together, the pull between us becomes stronger, and my fear grows. While my body wants him, my head knows better. He has the power to kill my family.

I was upgraded to first class on a flight from London to New York. The food, champagne, and service were impeccable. The blue-eyed man sitting next to me, even better. He was suave and intelligent. We talked and laughed, and something clicked. Fate took over and the plane was grounded, and we had an unexpected stopover for the night. With no plans, we made our own.

Wherever I went, I heard it: the sound of a purring motorcycle behind me. They never bothered me or said a word. But I knew they were there because of him - Devlin McRae, the head of the local MC. Being followed all the time like this was disconcerting. And lately, the bikes had been getting closer, less secretive, more obvious. What would I do if Devlin ever caught me?  

When a scandal tarnishes the reputation of hot-as-hell A-lister Patrick Walsh, he needs a reputation rescue, pronto. Enter waitress Norah Peers - a nobody who’s average with a capital A. She’s available, dependable, and has sworn off men for the rest of her natural born life. In other words: the perfect match for a no-strings fake romance. For the right amount of money, she can avoid waitressing and play the part of his dependable down-to-earth girlfriend. What she can’t avoid - dammit - is the growing steam between them.

Zach Lockwood is irresistible. He's charming. He's confident. He's got a smile that brings me to my knees. Or at least, I wish it brought me to my knees. There's only one problem: Mr. Lockwood is my boss. Otherwise known as: Off. Limits. But off-limits doesn't mean a girl can't look, right? What's the point in having a Sex God CEO if you can't indulge in a few innocent fantasies? Well, innocent might not be the right word for them.  

Girl meets a handsome stranger, gets swept off her feet, and has the best night of her life. Sounds like a dream, right? If only... When I wake up the next morning in a stunning penthouse overlooking the Seattle waterfront to a note saying, “have a safe flight back to Chicago,” his message is loud and clear: One and done. Famous last words. Guess who’s waiting to greet me on the first day at my new job? It turns out the mega-rich Asher Kingcaid is far from one and done.

It should have been easy. I needed the money. He needed a babysitter to keep him from snorting himself to death. I was cherry-picked especially for him. Responsible. Optimistic. Warm. Innocent. The worst part is that I should have known better. Alex Winslow. British rock star. Serial heartbreaker. Casanova with whiskey eyes. “Don’t get near the devil in a leather jacket. He’ll chew you up and spit you out.” Guess what? I didn’t listen. I signed the contract. World tour. Three months. Four Continents. 100 shows. My name is Indigo Bellamy, and I sold my soul to a tattooed god.

All four full-length Dirty Sexy novels (the entire series) are now available in a box set!

Breaking news: The bad boy of baseball, Maddox Paige, is totally and utterly whipped. Okay, that might not be the headline in the newspaper this morning, but it's the reality of my current situation. It all started a month ago when I received a call from my best friend, Kinsley. She’d gotten a new job in Chicago and needed a place to stay. I've known the girl since I was five, so I figured there wouldn't be any harm in having her stay at my place for a while. Ha! Total disaster.

The most beautiful man I've ever seen is the same one who can ruin everything. The first time I lay eyes on Callan Walker, I know he'll be trouble. With his smug grin, hot Aussie accent, and thousand-dollar shoes, he's just the kind of rich guy who always gets what he wants. And he wants two things: a night of sin, and my cooperation as he outmaneuvers his powerful mother to take control of his uncle's estate. I can't afford either one. I'm the only thing standing between my little sister and the foster care system.

Marry a man I barely know to save my family from ruin. It might’ve been simple, if my betrothed were anybody else. On our wedding day, my husband-to-be arrived at the courthouse like a black cloud rolling over Manhattan. Walt didn’t crack smiles or pepper in pleasantries as we exchanged hollow vows in front of the judge. His disdain for me was so palpable I assumed we’d walk out of that ceremony and resume our regularly scheduled programming. But then fate was like, Hold my beer. I got this.

Hollywood bad boy Brad Sinclair always gets his way, whether it's the role he wants or the bikini-clad model he has to have. But when a bombshell gets dropped in his lap in the form of a dimpled five-year-old from a forgotten relationship, he knows his life is about to change forever. Cara DuMont isn't exactly thrilled when she gets assigned to be the nanny for the latest box-office king. She has one rule: no celebrity fathers, especially single ones with devilish good looks and rock-hard abs.

Charming, captivating, seductive—and a cold-blooded killer. I married the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva anyway. I had to, it was part of the deal. Now, I’m faking marital bliss as I tremble with fear, and I cannot wait to be out of the clutches of this ruthless man.

There’s a fine line between lust and hate. I don’t care that Drew Merritt spent the last year transforming himself from grungy slob to sexy playboy. With messy, dirty blond hair and gorgeous eyes, his looks aren’t the problem. His mouth is. And the stupid things that come out of it. But after an emergency strands us together, and he does his damnedest to take care of me.... Let’s just say there’s one thing we don’t clash on. And it doesn’t involve talking. 

Carter Beckett is the NHL’s resident bad boy, top player both on the ice and in the bedroom, and quite possibly the sexiest man to ever grace my field of vision. But worst of all? He knows it. He’s arrogant, self-centered, and the man doesn’t seem to know what a filter is, let alone how to use one. He’s had everything served to him on a silver platter, including endless strings of women, and apparently, I’m up next. I have the solution to all my sexual frustrations in a drawer at home, and it’s far less complicated than Carter Beckett.

The first time I met Brody Easton was in the men's locker room. It was my first interview as a professional sportscaster. The famed quarterback decided to bare all. And by all, I don't mean he told me any of his secrets. No. The arrogant ass decided to drop his towel just as I asked the first question. On camera.