Here’s the first thing you should know: this is not a fairytale.
Happily-ever-afters are fables, and Prince Charming is a sweet little lie.
I know all this because he taught me.
Once upon a lifetime ago, the rich, arrogant, sinfully gorgeous, and tragically
broken dark prince of the Hamptons was my tormentor. My darkness, my shameful
attraction, my all-consuming, forbidden temptation.
I hate Sebastian Crown because nine years ago, for one night, I was stupid
enough to think I loved him. And I’ve been paying for it ever since.
Except now, he needs me to help him save his empire.
…And he’s not taking no for answer.
Bastian:
She’s my nemesis. My addiction. My weakness.
My obsession.
I used to tell myself I hated Anastasia Bell – for being poor, for not
worshipping the ground I walked on, for looking at me like she pitied me for
being me.
When the rest of my world always told me yes, she was the ever-provoking no.
She thinks I’m a monster – a tragic, fucked-up, broken beast.
She doesn’t know the half of it.
Because she can’t begin to know the crimes of my past, or imagine the things
I’ve done to her behind the scenes since she left this place.
Years ago, I thought breaking her would fix me.
I was wrong.
Now I’ve got her in my sights again, and this time, I won’t be letting her go.
Even if it means we both go down in flames…
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boy husband, their two adorable kiddos, and the world’s most ill-behaved puppy.
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In this second of the sultry, Western-set Coming Home series from New York Times bestselling author Harper Sloan, Quinn Davis might finally have a shot at her own happily-ever-after—but will she let love in, or will she tell it to go ahead and kiss her boots?
Quinn Davis prefers to live her life quietly. She’s the stereotypical tomboy with two overprotective big brothers who have always been there to protect her, especially from devilishly handsome cowboys with silver tongues. That is, until Tate Montgomery comes riding into town. Their first meeting, however, is far from something out of a fairy tale and only further convinces Quinn that men aren’t worth her time.
The only place Tate Montgomery ever truly felt at home growing up was during the long, sweltering summer months he spent at his Gram and Paw’s farm in Pine Oak, Texas. Now, Tate has returned to his childhood sanctuary seeking a fresh start—but if he’s being entirely honest, he’s not just back for the wranglers and Stetsons. During those summers, Quinn was a friend-turned-young-love who Tate lost when life threw him a curveball and he cut all ties to his past; but all it takes is one glance at the raven-haired beauty he did his best to forget for him to realize just how much he’s been missing….



I love Quinn! I hadn’t read Lost Rider first but that’s where we meet Quinn since she’s Leigh’s BFF.
Quinn is a sassy tomboy, raised by her older brothers who are constantly hovering. She’s not interested in romance – especially not with her ex who comes back to town to stay. And seems determined to win her back forever.
Tate made some dumb choices when he was younger, including leaving the only woman he’s ever loved. He’s back in town, he’s staying and he wants Quinn back. He’s got a lot of work ahead of him to win her back though.
I love Harper’s Southern writing. I’ve never lived in the South so her writing makes me feel like what I’m able to live in the South – or at least be privy to how living is there.
4 stars!
Harper is a NEW YORK TIMES, WALL STREET JOURNAL and USA TODAY bestselling author residing in Georgia with her husband and three daughters. She has a borderline unhealthy obsession with books, hibachi, tattoos and Game of Thrones. When she isn’t writing you can almost always find her with a book in hand.
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Jack Willis is every bit the start-up prodigy—seriously smart, inventive, and
totally sexy. With his incredible mind, extraordinary body, and a bank account
with more zeroes than you can count, he would give the sharks from Shark Tank a
run for their money. Everyone from Wall Street investors to drooling house
wives wants a piece of him. Everyone except Libby Hanson, that is.
Libby Hanson is a crafty, curvy bombshell, more accustomed to macrame and
crochet than fine dining and stealth engineering. She reads, she writes, she
drinks wine with her cat…and she’s never even heard of Jack Willis until she
lands an interview that will change her life forever.
Jack needs a book written—and fast. His sexy new car is about to be released on
the market, and a New York Times bestselling book would be the perfect
marketing push to get his business to the next level. He could have any writer
he wants: but he wants Libby. She’s feisty, gorgeous, and has a way with words
like nobody else.
To write his book, Libby has to see everything he does. She gets thrust into a
brand new world of A-list red carpet events, meetings with executives, and long
nights in the workshop that grow increasingly intimate. But to write a
bestseller, Libby needs more. Their connection is off the charts, but she’ll
need to discover the real Jack—the man behind the inventions, the man who’s
steadily stealing her heart. Jack has secrets—lots of them—and Libby will do
anything to get the scoop. With Jack’s true nature coming to the surface, Libby
finds herself torn—will she expose the man everyone is dying to get the dirt
on? Or will she protect the man she is slowly but surely falling for?
99c for a limited time
Free in Kindle Unlimited

Libby needs money and she’s written books so she’s a perfect fit to ghost-write Jack Willis’ autobiography, right? Except Libby knows NOTHING about Jack’s world or even who he is. Which Jack decides is perfect. A biographer who doesn’t know about him so he can direct the narrative? She’s perfect!! It doesn’t hurt that he can’t keep his eyes off her too.
I really liked reading this story. Libby seemed so normal and everyday. She likes to craft and writes crafting books. And she is sassy and spunky and curvy and I love that about her.
4.5 stars!

The first time I met Caine West was in a bar.
He noticed me looking his way and mistakenly read my scowling as checking him out.
When he attempted to talk to me, I set him straight—telling him what I thought of his lying, cheating, egomaniacal ass.
You see, the gorgeous jerk had wined and dined my best friend–smooth talking her into his bed, all along failing to mention that he was married.
He deserved every bit of my tongue-lashing and more for what he’d done.
Especially when that lazy smile graced his perfect face in response to my rant.
Only it turned out, the man I’d just told off wasn’t the right guy.
Oops. My mistake.
Embarrassed, I slunk out without an apology.
I was never going to see the handsome stranger again anyway, right?
That’s what I thought…until I walked into class the next morning.
Well, hello Professor West, I’m your new teaching assistant.
I’ll be working under you…figuratively speaking.
Although the literal interpretation might not be such a bad thing—working under Professor West.
This was going to be interesting…


Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times Bestselling author. With more than 1.5 million books sold, her titles have appeared in over eighty Bestseller lists and are currently translated in sixteen languages. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.
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Celebrity archaeologist Cari Dunn is so over the Georgia heat, the red tape at her dig site, and the threatening messages left on her motel door. She just wants to dig, and the network just wants to keep her safe—with a bodyguard. She can’t complain. Jasper Benjamin radiates raw masculinity that penetrates her to the core and ignites passion she’s never felt. Too bad for him, she’s not going to be easy to handle.
Lusting after the bodyguard shouldn’t be so tempting, especially when her life is on the line.
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Amazon | Kobo | Barnes and Noble | iBooks
Amazon | Kobo | Barnes and Noble | iBooks

“You know what Krav Maga is, and you let me spar with my imaginary friend for the last hour?” I let myself go limp, become dead weight, expecting the move to surprise him enough to drop me.
It did not. Instead he rolled with me until his back was against the parched grass, and I was seated astride him. I should have been able to get free since I was on top, but I couldn’t rid myself of his steely grip on my arms, and I knew he’d chosen that position deliberately, to prove his point.
Damn it. This was not the result I wanted—proof that I did, in fact, need him.
“I get it. You’re stronger than me. Now let me up.” Temper-tears stung the back of my throat. Convincing my stepfather that I was going to go to university, convincing my colleagues that I wouldn’t have a nervous breakdown just because some idiot spray painted my door—why did I always have to fight just to live my life the way I wanted?
Instead of gloating and letting me up, my newly vindicated bodyguard tugged me down so that I lay at on top of him. I surprised myself by wanting, suddenly, to bury my face in his T-shirt and just let go for a moment, rather than fight this new reality—that I might actually be in danger.
“I’m not trying to prove that I’m stronger than you. I don’t have to. It’s obvious.” The urge to snuggle passed as I cranked my head around with a glare.
Way to make me feel worse, asshole.
“Krav maga is a discipline, and the first rule is to avoid confrontation. You know this. So why the hell are you out here, alone, after dusk?” His words were tinted with frustration, the first hint of emotion he’d shown, and I was surprised enough to stop tugging at his grip. When I did, he let go, and I pushed myself up on his massive chest but didn’t roll off.
“You’re serious.” I waited for the punchline, but it didn’t come. Instead, he fixed me with a stare from those pale eyes, and a shiver skittered down my spine. “You don’t actually think someone is out to get me, do you? It’s a prank, right?”
“Let’s look at it this way.” Propping himself up on an elbow brought that rock-solid stomach of his in contact with my hip. I thought he would push me away, but he didn’t, seeming completely unaffected by the closeness of our bodies.
That stung, because I sure as hell wasn’t. This close, I could feel the warmth of his skin, smell a hint of soap, and it invaded my senses slowly, lazily, like honey melting on a summer day.
“You’re an archaeologist. You search for physical proof of things before you build theories on top of that evidence. Would that be an accurate explanation?”
“Yes.” Narrowing my eyes, I tried to drag my attention from the scent of his skin to what he was saying. My mouth was dry, and the space between my legs that pressed into the cradle between his hip was warm and starting to ache.
He gave no indication that our position was getting him all hot and bothered, too. None. How was I the only one feeling this?
“You have your physical proof. Harassment in the form of vandalism, and the more direct threat with the poster mailed to Margot.” With the sort of ab crunch I couldn’t do even on my best day, he hauled himself into a sitting position, still without pushing me off his lap. “Sure, it could be that
someone just wants to mess with your head. But what if it’s more? Wouldn’t you rather be prepared?”
“I like being prepared.” I ran my tongue over my lips and swallowed. Holy mixed messages. His words, his demeanor—he was still fully in G.I. Joe mode, but still, he hadn’t pushed me away.
“So how is this going to work? You just follow me around all the time?” A thought occurred to me. “You’re not expecting to stay in the same room, are you?”
Looking at him, though, I felt that same strange pull that I had in Margot’s suite. I might not actually mind having him that close.
What was wrong with me?
Margot and the network had been right—I was absolutely in danger. But the threat?
It was him.
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Bad Boy Ballers series finale! Includes an epic novella length epilogue for Rafe and Peyton, Brooklyn and Delaney, and Calder and Reggie!

Rie is the badass, sassafras author of Sugar Daddy and the Don’t Tell series–a breakthrough trilogy that crosses traditional publishing boundaries beginning with In His Command. Her latest endeavors include the Carolina Bad Boys, a fun, hot, and southern-sexy series. 
Henry Newman’s last wish was for his grandson Marshall, and caregiver Eva, to scatter his ashes in California.



She wants an easy summer fling. He wants more. And he won’t stop until he gets it.
CEO, Greyson James, has a BIG problem. Below the waist, he’s more man than most women can take, which has destroyed his sex life. Just once, he would like to meet a woman who doesn’t get a load of his . . . well, load . . . and run the other direction.
Katherine Clayton, divorcée and single mother of two, just sent her kids to California to spend summer vacation with their father, which means it’s time for her annual summer fling. Maybe this year she’ll find a man who can give her what she needs. And, after having two kids, what she needs is a lot of man. If she can’t find him this year, she’ll dedicate the rest of her life to her children and celibacy, because she can’t take any more bedroom disappointments.
When Greyson and Katherine spot each other inside Denver’s trendiest nightclub, the chemistry that erupts between them is undeniable, and they soon learn that each has what the other needs. But after one night of intense passion, neither is prepared for the wicked ride fate has in store for them.
As the Banger Serialized Novel unfolds, Greyson and Katherine will wrestle with their feelings for each another, long-held family secrets will be revealed, and scandals neither could have imagined will rock them to the core.
Read Greyson and Katherine’s entire story in this collection of all seven previously published novellas to find out if what they’ve found in each other will be enough for happily ever after, or if one summer fling is all they’ll share?
This collection includes all seven novellas that were previously published separately under the title, Banger (formerly Size Matters). A short summary for each part follows:
Part 1 – Well-endowed Greyson James meets pleasure-seeking Katherine Clayton. She thinks he’s a temporary summer fling. He wants something more.
Part 2 – When Katherine learns Greyson wants to buy her company, sparks fly, and she ends their affair. But Greyson is determined to win her back.
Part 3 – Katherine resists Greyson’s steady attempts to woo her back into his bed, but she can only hold out so long when her desire for him continues to grow.
Part 4 – Greyson takes Katherine on a weekend getaway that leads to a surprising confession—and an unexpected realization.
Part 5 – When Katherine and Greyson attend their friends’ wedding, she’s not prepared for her jealous reaction when she sees him with another woman. And neither is he.
Part 6 – Katherine was finally ready to give Greyson her heart, but a tragic secret from his past, as well as new developments in her family obligations, have threatened everything.
Part 7 – If Greyson is going to win Katherine back, he’s going to have to pull out all the stops. But all the stops might not be enough to overcome the surprises fate still has in store for them.

I tear my gaze away from the tall glass of cool water on the balcony who’s been eye-fucking me for the last minute and nudge Jess.
“I think I found him.”
“Who?” She glances around then meets my gaze. “Oh!” Her eyes go wide, and her mouth drops open. “You mean . . . Mr. Manhunt?”
I nod.
“Where?”
“The balcony.” I bob my head in that direction. “Grey shirt. Dark-brown hair. The one with a jawline that can cut glass.” Of all the men I’ve chosen for my summer romances, this guy is the hottest yet. I only hope he’s as willing as he seems to be, because I’d like to at least see if he excels over the competition in other ways. Namely, is he packing, or isn’t he?
Jess frowns as she glances up to the balcony. “Where? I don’t see—” Her gaze drops and she’s staring over my shoulder. “Oh . . .”
A shiver races down my back, and I know by the look on her face that he’s standing right behind me.
“Excuse me.” His voice is deep and manly, and my stomach drops then buoys back up against my diaphragm.
If just his voice can elicit that response, I can only imagine what the rest of him can do to me. Or perhaps I’m merely hopeful. I have to remind myself that for all the potential of my last four summer flings, none lived up to the hype.
I turn, and he’s more striking up close than he was on the balcony. Taller, too.
Sometimes men are more attractive from far away, but when you see them up close, not so much. When they’re right in front of you, it’s easier to see the imperfections in their skin or that they don’t take the best care of their teeth. Or maybe they have an off-putting scent, whether natural or cologne.
With this guy, there are no imperfections. His teeth are straight and white, and his healthy, weathered skin tells me he spends a lot of time outdoors. Based on the width of his shoulders and his tapered waist, I’d say the time he spends outdoors is spent doing he-man activities such as chopping through ten-foot wide tree trunks with an ax and throwing boulders. He’s obviously chiseled under his grey button-up and black slacks. Are those Armani? As for the way he smells, I feel like I’ve stepped into a crisp, clean shower in a rainforest. I just want to run my nose up the side of his neck, inhaling like a coke addict.
His smile widens as his hazel, grey-blue eyes narrow slightly, and I realize I’m staring.
“I was hoping I could buy you a drink,” he says.
It’s simple as far as pickup lines go. Simple and polite. I like polite. It means he’s not a jerk. Or at least not a total jerk. Or maybe he’s just a smooth operator, but I don’t think so. There’s a gentle kindness in his eyes, as if he’s been rejected one too many times and, while he’s not willing to give up, he’s more cautious now about the women he approaches. Whatever the reason, I feel honored that he’s chosen to approach me.
My turquoise-colored cocktail is almost empty, so I smile and place the glass on the polished bar. “Sure, okay.”
“And your friend?” He gestures invitingly toward Jess as he flags down the bartender. “What are you two drinking?”
Jess squeezes up beside me. “It’s called a Caribbean Mist.”
The bartender stops in front of us and leans in.
“Two Caribbean Mists and another scotch and soda please.” He sets his empty glass on the bar.
The bartender nods brusquely and runs off to fix our drinks.
“My name’s Grey,” he says, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music.
“Grey? Really?” I can’t help smiling. “Like the name of a certain character from a certain book that shall remain nameless?”
He rolls his eyes impishly, and his cheeks flush. “I’ve never read that book, so I barely know what it’s about, just what I’ve heard through the grapevine.”
“You should read it. It’s a pretty good book. Very educational.”
He flashes me his perfect smile, and it makes the sexy dimple in the center of his chin more pronounced. “I’ll think about it.” He studies me for a moment. “My full name is Greyson. It’s a family name. But everyone calls me Grey. I promise I don’t hurt women for pleasure or anything like that.” His slashing eyebrows tick inward as if the idea of hurting women makes him uncomfortable, which scores him extra brownie points.
I pretend to be affronted. “You don’t?” I gasp dramatically. “And here I was hoping you’d tie me up and flog me senseless.”
His mouth falls open, and he appears both lost for words and completely thrown.
I laugh and place my hand reassuringly on his forearm, which is resting on the bar. “I’m only kidding, Greyson.”
Relief washes over him, and he smiles again. “Ah, okay.” He averts his gaze and chuckles tightly. “You had me worried for a second.”
Then he does something I don’t expect. Something that makes me stop laughing and draw in a shaky breath.
He places his hand over mine.
He’s still chuckling, his gaze averted almost shyly, and yet this casual, effortless touch feels more intimate than if he’d reached under my dress and caressed my inner thigh. I don’t even think he’s realized what he’s done. As if comforting people comes naturally to him . . . to the point that he doesn’t even think about it.
But his touch isn’t comforting at all. At least, not to me. It’s sizzling. It’s arousing. It’s all-consuming.
His palm is callused—but not unpleasantly so—and it’s warm and dry. I don’t know what it is about rough hands—man hands, as I call them—but they turn me on. To me, calluses are a sign that a man not only works hard but plays hard, and given Greyson’s physique and demeanor, I’d say his calluses are caused by both. He strikes me as the kind of man who climbs mountains or runs military-grade obstacle courses for fun. He has a special forces look about him. Like he’d look as good dressed in SWAT gear, holding a semiautomatic rifle, as he does dressed in the shimmery grey shirt and black tailored slacks he’s wearing tonight.
All I know is that the moment his hand touched mine, an electrical current traveled up my arm, strengthening the strange connection I feel with him.
He becomes aware that I’ve stopped laughing and turns toward me. What he finds on my face makes his smile fade, and a moment later, lust-filled enchantment seeps into his expression. His thumb brushes over the back of my hand, and I suck in my breath, which in turn makes him suck in his.
“What’s your name?” he asks, moving closer.
“Katherine.”
“Katherine.” He rolls my name over his tongue. Who would have thought my own name could be an aphrodisiac. But the way it sounds rumbling across Greyson’s vocal chords is enough to make my insides quiver and my neglected libido stand up and take notice. “You have a beautiful name.”
I’ve never thought my name was beautiful until just this second. “Everybody calls me Kate.”
“I like Katherine.”
So do I, especially when he says it. “Then you can call me Katherine.”

Holy cow! Grey and Kate’s story is a little bit crazy. But I absolutely when a bunch of stories are released in a box set like this. I can just keep reading and reading.
Kate is having her yearly summer hookup. That’s how she meets Grey. Both Grey and Kate have an “affliction” that makes them perfect for each other. Grey is abnormally large. And for anyone who says bigger is better, needs to read this series!
5 stars!
Donya Lynne is the bestselling author of the award winning All the King’s Men and Strong Karma Series and a member of Romance Writers of America. Making her home in a wooded suburb north of Indianapolis with her husband, Donya has lived in Indiana most of her life and knew at a young age she was destined to be a writer. She started writing poetry in grade school and won her first short story contest in fourth grade. In junior high, she began writing romantic stories for her friends, and by her sophomore year, she’d been dubbed Most Likely to Become a Romance Novelist. In 2012, she fulfilled her dream by publishing her first two novels and a novella. In 2016, she began writing serialized novels under the pen name, Dick Hertz. Her work has earned her two IPPYs, five eLit Awards, a USA Today Recommended Read, and numerous accolades. In October and November of 2015, she had two books hit the Smashwords Top 25 Bestsellers list. When she’s not writing, she can be found cheering on the Indianapolis Colts or doing her cats’ bidding.

It’s time.
Time to get a life.
Time to start over.
Time to move beyond the past.
The guys in the Single Dads Club would tell you it was time years ago, but until recently, the risk of hurting my little girl outweighed the benefit of getting a piece of ass.
Now that I have a tween daughter on my hands? It’s becoming more apparent with every poster hung on the wall, every fight over wearing make-up and every uncomfortable conversation about puberty, that at least one of us needs a female touch in our lives.
Jesus. I can’t even think the words ‘female touch’ without thinking of her.
Charlotte Rose. Charlie.
She’s everything I shouldn’t want, but someone needs to tell that to my damn libido because every time she’s around I have a constant case of blue balls.
There’s a list of reasons why I shouldn’t give into what I feel—she’s my best friend’s little sister, she’s seen me at my most vulnerable, and the biggest one—she’s the first person in eleven years who has the potential to break me.

Snap a picture and caption it ‘Teenage boy in front of his first Playboy’ because that’s exactly how I feel right now and I’d bet that’s how I look.
Charlie stands in the doorway wearing a white bikini, her nipples hard and erect, begging to be touched. The first thing I notice is the way she doesn’t cover up, but opens the door wider, ushering me in with her free hand.
“I expected the pool guy.” Her voice changes pitch and I gather she’s as affected by this situation as I am. The only difference is, my arousal can’t be hidden.
“He’s out of town, so you got me.”
“And you can fix it?”
I stop and tilt my head her way. “Is that even a question?”
“Well,” she walks faster to catch up to me as I use a key to open up the one door that’s locked from guests. “Oh, I always wonder what’s behind these doors when I rent other people’s vacation homes.” She peeks her head over my shoulder and the scent of her perfume makes a beeline for my dick, making it twitch.
As he’s begging for an introduction, I squat to get away, but she doesn’t relent. Her tits are practically resting on my shoulder.
“Ever heard of personal space?” I remark, grabbing my tool set.
“This isn’t half as exciting as I thought it would be.” She finally moves back and I stand with the toolbox in my hands.
“Did you think there would be a dead body?”
She shrugs. “Porn maybe?”
“Why would there be porn?”
She purses her lips and looks up at the ceiling. It’s innocent and cute and I’m not sure I ever remember seeing her doing it before. “You know, the owner can’t keep it in their own house because they have a preteen daughter, so they keep their stash in the closet and watch it when there are no guests here.”
“Let me guess? I’m the guy with the preteen daughter.”
“You’re so smart. I see where Sydney gets it from.” She smiles, a mouthful of straight white teeth.
I nod and walk away. She follows.
“Do you need help?”
“Since I really have no idea what I’m fixing, I don’t know yet.” I open the screen door to the hot tub.
“It wouldn’t turn on.”
“That’s not a good sign.”
I open up the back and start working on it. The little I know about hot tubs might not be enough.
Charlie sits on the edge of the hot tub and puts her feet in, her purple polished toenails dipping in and out of the water.
“I think I deserve a discount if I can’t use the hot tub.”
I look up at her and she’s smirking.
“Funny.”
She’s quiet for a few minutes while I fiddle around trying to figure out the source of the problem.
“I’m curious, Garrett…” she pauses and I glance up at her. “How do my tits look in this bikini?”
Amazon US – http://amzn.to/2sVMCjT
Amazon UK – http://amzn.to/2t8Mv8t
Amazon AU – http://amzn.to/2uktTC1
“Garrett is the perfect man – hard and virile on the outside and soft and squishy on the inside.” – Heather from White Hot Reads
“I am absolutely and positively in love with our bearded sexy beast, Garrett!” – Kristy France, Goodreads Reviewer
Amazon US ~ http://amzn.to/2qkGOlf
Amazon UK ~ http://amzn.to/2rjvmoh
Amazon CA ~ http://amzn.to/2pDw6r1
Amazon AU ~ http://amzn.to/2rjwb0p
Goodreads ~ http://bit.ly/2nmNURB
Amazon US – http://amzn.to/2stHhDb
Amazon UK – http://amzn.to/2rS8rTr
Amazon CA – http://amzn.to/2razFSa
Amazon AU – http://amzn.to/2rivibQ
Goodreads – http://bit.ly/2qjqui3
Oh Garrett! I knew he was going to be the one that did it. With his tall, silent ways and his crushing history, I knew he was going to be the single dad that made me love him!
Charlie has wanted Garrett as long as she can remember. His wife died 12 years ago but Charlie is ready for him to move on, with her.
Garrett has lived a solitary lifestyle. He has his daughter and business and that’s perfectly fine with him. Except he can’t get over the way Charlie has grown up and how she affects him.
I can’t wait for the next series!!! I know Vance has something hidden/wrong when he just randomly shows up in Climax Cove and is so evasive about why he’s there.
5 stars!
