I haven’t been having much luck on the dating scene lately, ever since my breakup with my longtime college girlfriend. I thought being 25 and single would be a blast, but dating apps are trash, and I’ve managed to get nothing but three fake numbers at my favorite bar. Thankfully, the actual owner of the third fake number was kind enough to reply to let me know I’d texted the wrong number. She was warm and open and expressed curiosity about the fake number I’d been given, so we got to texting.

Reed freaking Rivers. I wouldn’t trust a word out of the arrogant music mogul’s mouth if his gold-plated tongue were notarized. The man with the Midas touch would say anything to get me into his bed, and I know it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want him to succeed. Indeed, the moment I laid eyes on Reed while he was speaking at an on-campus event I’d crashed, my body physically ached to feel his golden fingers - and tongue - all over me.

I'm not interested in starting something deep and meaningful, but what I am interested in is the way your body reacts to mine when we're in the same room. You probably assume the concentration on my face is work-related, when in reality, I'm figuring out which I want more: to nail you against the wall, or to bend you over my desk.

Holt Sebastian is royalty in our world. As CEO of the Sebastian News Corp, he’s the man with all the power. The man who decides if I’ll always just be a local television anchor or if I’ll be the rising star of my own show.

The first time I met Winter Marks, I almost took her out with my Jeep. To be fair, she came out of nowhere. I flirted with her, and she flipped me off and disappeared into the woods on her bike. But she left me a souvenir: a single hockey skate. Seemed to me that divine intervention shouldn’t be ignored. She was my icy Cinderella, and I would be her Prince Not-So-Charming. Winter was more than just a sassy, badass hockey-playing hottie. She’s stuck in a prison of a life. And I’m the perfect escape. Neither of us expected to fall. Or for the truth to shatter us.

The difference is mine will never be revealed, whereas I can easily get yours, assuming the price offered by your enemy is right and the scales of justice appeal to my personal standards of ethics. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. The thing that’s not so easy for a shy guy like me? Finding Ms. Right and locking her down.

The first time I laid eyes on Lydia Decker, I couldn’t speak. Or breathe. Or string two coherent thoughts together. And I don’t mean any of that figuratively. No, when I first laid eyes on Lydia Decker - my physical therapist - I was lying flat on my back in the ICU, high as a kite on painkillers, breathing on a ventilator, my bones as broken and splintered as my spirit. She said she’d been assigned to fix me. But what I didn’t know...what I couldn’t possibly know...was that Lydia Decker needed fixing far more than I ever did.

Tempt Me is a collection of five full-length novels from best-selling authors. This collection includes: Yours to Bare by Jessica Hawkins - A stand-alone contemporary romance, Show Me the Way by A.L. Jackson - A stand-alone single dad romance, Make Me Yours by Tia Louise - A stand-alone nanny/single dad romance, Breaker by Harloe Rae - A stand-alone brother's best friend romance, and Captain by Lauren Rowe - A stand-alone romantic comedy.

When wealthy playboy Jonas Faraday receives an anonymous note from Sarah Cruz, a law student working part-time processing online applications for an exclusive club, he becomes obsessed with tracking her down and giving her the satisfaction she claims has always eluded her. Thus begins a passionate, spicy, romantic, funny, and downright addicting romance of everlasting love and redemption.

Laila: I've tried to like Adrian Savage, the mercurial frontman for Fugitive Summer, while serving as his band's opening act on tour. But it's proved impossible. Global thirst trap that he is, however, I can't resist having some fun at his expense. Specifically, I've decided not only to give Savage the sound tongue lashing his cocky ass deserves--one nobody else has the balls to deliver--I'm also determined to bring that brooding bad boy to his knees.

I should have known I was in trouble when I backed my old, beat-up truck into the shiny Range Rover. The driver looked like a gorgeous fallen angel–one who’d been booted right out of paradise for being a giant prick. Good thing I’ll never have to see him again.

I was a small-town girl with big city dreams and more ambition than money to my name. He had everything—money, privilege, and the world at his feet. Opposites in every way, but that didn’t matter. We were lightning in a bottle, and everything felt possible when we were together. Life was perfect.

Working as Ruslan Oryolov’s personal assistant is the job from hell. After a long day spent tending to the billionaire’s every whim, I need some stress relief. So when I get home that night, that’s exactly what I do. Problem is, my thoughts are still stuck on the bosshole, who’s ruining my life. That’s fine—because of all Ruslan’s many sins, being gorgeous might be the most dangerous.

Rule number one for having a one-night stand: Don’t fall for the girl. After a lengthy dating slump, I finally met someone who sparked my interest. Well, first the sparks flew when we argued. Later in the evening those sparks ignited into something more. I was drawn to Devyn, in a way I hadn’t felt in a really long time. Needless to say, I was disappointed when she abruptly left after our amazing night together. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But she hadn’t even given me her number. In a city with eight-million people, I figured I’d never see Devyn again.

Lila James is my best friend’s little sister, and I’ve always looked out for her. She's five years younger than me, and when she left for college, she was just a kid. But now she’s home for the summer—and she’s definitely not a kid anymore.

Lowen Ashleigh is a struggling writer on the brink of financial ruin when she accepts the job offer of a lifetime. Jeremy Crawford, husband of best-selling author Verity Crawford, has hired Lowen to complete the remaining books in a successful series his injured wife is unable to finish. Lowen arrives at the Crawford home, ready to sort through years of Verity's notes and outlines, hoping to find enough material to get her started. What Lowen doesn't expect to uncover in the chaotic office is an unfinished autobiography Verity never intended for anyone to read.

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.

Five Years Earlier: Henry Dunne knows three things: that agreeing to host this raucous house party was a terrible idea, that he absolutely cannot show up to his nursing shift tomorrow with a hangover, and that the beautiful redhead in the corner will be sleeping in his bed tonight.

Obituary writer Nadine Barbault doesn’t mind being called “Lady Death”. It suits the ice queen persona she’s cultivated to survive the fast-paced Toronto Herald. So when Nadine learns that famous (and reclusive) author Dot Voline has died, she doesn’t hesitate to run the obituary…only to discover that Dot is very much alive. Nadine’s screw-up has brought Wesley Chen of the rival Spear no end of joy—she’s been a thorn in his extremely ambitious side for years. But the renewed interest in Dot also surfaced chatter about a mysterious past scandal.

We're not free to give into this. She's 19, and I'm 38. And I'm her boyfriend's father. Unfortunately, they both just moved into my house.

I haven’t been having much luck on the dating scene lately, ever since my breakup with my longtime college girlfriend. I thought being 25 and single would be a blast, but dating apps are trash, and I’ve managed to get nothing but three fake numbers at my favorite bar. Thankfully, the actual owner of the third fake number was kind enough to reply to let me know I’d texted the wrong number. She was warm and open and expressed curiosity about the fake number I’d been given, so we got to texting.

I hate him and I don’t even know his name. The good news is my nemesis has made it abundantly clear the feeling is mutual. He did call me pretty, though, in the midst of a heated screaming match. Which would have been flattering, if I didn’t loathe him so much. But whatever. I don’t care how handsome he might be, or how charming the rest of the world probably finds him: guys who look like aged-out boy banders aren’t my type. Add to that, he’s got a knack for being in precisely the wrong place at the wrong time.

Reed freaking Rivers. I wouldn’t trust a word out of the arrogant music mogul’s mouth if his gold-plated tongue were notarized. The man with the Midas touch would say anything to get me into his bed, and I know it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want him to succeed. Indeed, the moment I laid eyes on Reed while he was speaking at an on-campus event I’d crashed, my body physically ached to feel his golden fingers - and tongue - all over me.

Laila: I've tried to like Adrian Savage, the mercurial frontman for Fugitive Summer, while serving as his band's opening act on tour. But it's proved impossible. Global thirst trap that he is, however, I can't resist having some fun at his expense. Specifically, I've decided not only to give Savage the sound tongue lashing his cocky ass deserves--one nobody else has the balls to deliver--I'm also determined to bring that brooding bad boy to his knees.

When wealthy playboy Jonas Faraday receives an anonymous note from Sarah Cruz, a law student working part-time processing online applications for an exclusive club, he becomes obsessed with tracking her down and giving her the satisfaction she claims has always eluded her. Thus begins a passionate, spicy, romantic, funny, and downright addicting romance of everlasting love and redemption.

I knew something was wrong the second she walked in the door tonight; I just couldn't put my finger on what it was. Same hair color. Same legs. Same face. Except...I look harder. At the small dimple beneath her lip that wasn't there the last time we went out. And her laugh - that laugh isn't as loud. This isn't the girl I've gone out with the past few weeks. It's her twin sister, and they've switched places on me.

The first time I laid eyes on Lydia Decker, I couldn’t speak. Or breathe. Or string two coherent thoughts together. And I don’t mean any of that figuratively. No, when I first laid eyes on Lydia Decker - my physical therapist - I was lying flat on my back in the ICU, high as a kite on painkillers, breathing on a ventilator, my bones as broken and splintered as my spirit. She said she’d been assigned to fix me. But what I didn’t know...what I couldn’t possibly know...was that Lydia Decker needed fixing far more than I ever did.

Growing up, I knew my older brother’s best friend thought of me as “Logan’s kid sister”. For me, though, our next-door neighbor Colin felt like anything but a sibling. Whenever I spied on him through my bedroom window, as he banged away, shirtless, on his drum kit, I felt sensations inside me I’d never felt for my actual brother. But when we moved away and Colin’s band took off like a rocket, I knew my tweener fantasies would never become a reality.

The difference is mine will never be revealed, whereas I can easily get yours, assuming the price offered by your enemy is right and the scales of justice appeal to my personal standards of ethics. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. The thing that’s not so easy for a shy guy like me? Finding Ms. Right and locking her down.

Kason and Adaline. From the moment they meet, they start to fall. Neither of them predict just how far the drop will be, though. Loving Adaline is all Kason has ever wanted to do. But Kason has a secret. He's an addict. A sex addict. Layer by layer, he starts to unravel, forcing Adaline to face the world he's kept hidden. What happens when one person loves beyond the craving and the other craves beyond the loving?

The Josh & Kat Trilogy (a bundle containing Infatuation, Revelation, and Consummation) is the sensual, laugh-out-loud funny, and thrilling "origin story" of Josh Faraday and Kat Morgan, two of the most beloved characters in the Lauren Rowe universe. It’s a war of wills between stubborn and sexy Josh Faraday and Kat Morgan. A fight to the bed. Arrogant, wealthy playboy Josh is used to getting what he wants. And what he wants is Kat Morgan. The minute Josh Faraday meets feisty, vivacious Kat Morgan, he wants her. Not for a relationship, of course.

Grace is a bounty hunter who wants to be taken seriously, but her boss refuses to believe that a woman can bring down a dangerous criminal. She finally gets a chance to prove herself when she's given the case of a lifetime: capture Raide Knox and bring him to justice. Raide is a dangerous fugitive on the run...and the sexiest man Grace has ever met. Catching Raide won't be easy. He's not the kind of man to go down without a fight.

After the death of his father, Lincoln Moorehead finds himself in the middle of a drama. He's been named CEO of Moorehead Media, much to his brother’s chagrin. But Lincoln’s bad attitude softens when he meets the no-nonsense, gorgeous woman who has been given the task of transforming him from the gruff, wilderness guy to a suave businessman.

My protector is a monster. Evil men are searching for me. Gideon Byrne is my salvation. Cold. Cruel. And handsome beyond measure. He should scare me. His possessive desire should make me run. But I stay. I give in to him. I give him…me. I’m falling in love with a monster. And I refuse to stop.

Grayson Cole was my brother’s best friend. He was all of my firsts. Then he went away… Drew Harris was just a kid, a senior in high school, my best friend’s little sister. They said she was too young to know her feelings. I was too old to have them, so I left to join the military. Four years passed. Loss, injury, angry words I can never take back. I’m home, but I’m not the same. Neither is she.