The followers are convinced Adrienne and Jackson are dating. She's the social media manager for his hockey team, and he's the captain. When her boss asks them to give the people what they want for the content's sake, they can do nothing but agree. So, they're not actually dating. Not yet, at least.

Romance Trope: fake dating. When he offers to be my fake fiancé to get my parents off my back, I don't take into consideration what could happen once we start acting the part of being in a relationship. It feels like a safe plan since it's Finn, the goofy playboy not looking for anything serious, but the more layers I peel back, the more I discover about the real man hiding behind the sarcasm and witty retorts. And when we decide to take the relationship into the bedroom, stripping off more than just our clothes, I find it harder and harder to protect myself. The only control I seem to have is my one rule: no kissing. But I have a confession: I maybe, kind of, sort of (read: really fucking badly) want him to kiss me. Once that final barrier is breached, though, then what? Surely the fake status of our relationship can't be more than just that - fake. Right? [This is BOOK THREE of the WITH YOU series, a small town romance series set in Minnesota about the lives of the dysfunctional, blended Anderson family - with an interwoven mystery built into the background that spans the entirety of the series.]

Honours psychology student Layla Mitchell has above-average grades and a slightly-below-average sex life. When she enrolls in a senior course taught by the young, dark and mysterious Dr. Kayden Hall, she finds herself uncharacteristically intrigued by his research into sexual deviance. As Layla's academic fascination extends into the bedroom, her erotic discoveries begin to reveal more about the complex man she's experimenting with. Her inner psychologist is determined to figure him out but he isn't going to let her into his psyche that easily. A not-so-cliché BDSM Romance by Ami. Mature content and lots of steam.

Romance Trope: best friend's sister. What happens when my best friend's little sister insists on getting herself in sticky situations? Someone has to babysit her, and it might as well be me. Sutton has always been a feisty firecracker, and my favorite pastime is riling her up. It's all been in the name of fun...until the time I fake kissed her and it didn't feel so fake. Now every look, every touch, every innuendo brings me one step closer to breaching bro code. Sisters are off limits, but I'm starting to think she might be worth the consequences. [This is BOOK TWO of the WITH YOU series, a small town romance series set in Minnesota about the lives of the dysfunctional, blended Anderson family - with an interwoven mystery built into the background that spans the entirety of the series.]

Romance trope: best friends to lovers. "You're supposed to be my best friend, but all I can think about is kissing you again." TEDDY: I somehow got stuck in the unfortunate "one of the guys" category. It was on accident, naturally falling into this role since my childhood best friend was a boy. The crush on my best friend was also an accident. He's always seen me as one of the guys. That is, until the one drunken night he didn't. The one that nearly ruined everything a decade ago. JENSEN: It was much easier when I didn't notice how hot my best friend is. It would be even better if the rest of the jackoffs in our small town would stop noticing too. I can still remember all the details from our night together years ago. The night we never talk about, yet it's still so fresh in my mind. But will a secret scar from a past relationship ruin everything? [This is BOOK ONE of the WITH YOU series, a small town romance series set in Minnesota about the lives of the dysfunctional, blended Anderson family - with an interwoven mystery built into the background that spans the entirety of the series.] **Title formerly The Rest of Forever**

"You're a thorn in my side." . . . The bane of my existence has always been Alessandro Silvestro. He's the reason my blood boils every time I'm in the same room as him. The reason why I do things out of my character. He brings out the nasty, rotten side of me. He was my first love. First enemy. And if that wasn't enough, he's also the identical copy of my best friend. The person I hate the most also has the face of the person who means the most to me. And he'll stop at nothing to see me crushed and wither in front of his eyes.

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. . . . . . . . . . . We've all heard the tales of good and bad, the tales of innocent deceit and her hero, the tales that despite their nature, show us the beauty in contrast. But it's the tales of pure evil that get swept under the rug. The tales of deception, where cruelty is rewarded. The tales that have you questioning who the real villain of the story is. There's a simple philosophy to most thing in life; two wrongs 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 make a right. So what ensues when you put two of the worst kinds of people together? Loyalties transfer, lines blur, and hatred ignites complete chaos. She's cunning. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. She's dangerous. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴. She's evil. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦. Or so that's what we're told. The devil is always worse. But maybe, just maybe, she's the devil in disguise, playing his advocate... . . . . . . . . . . - 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 - 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 - 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. - 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧. - 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞.

"You're going to let me fuck you like a good girl?" he asks and leans down, "Because you are, aren't you? A good girl?" . . . Elena Amoretto has always been smitten by the one and only, Ares Aetos. For three years, she's adored him from afar. Admiring the god of war and falling deeper into her obsession. While Ares can't seem to stand her. Where she's infatuated with him, he merely acknowledges her existence. While being the center of the spotlight herself. As the front woman of the rising band Icarus, Elena has to face the world while struggling with anxiety. To make matters worse, Ares is the drummer of the band rivaling hers, Dopamine. And just as fate would have it, his band and hers are touring together. She's supposed to hate him. But how could she? When all she does is drown in the blue of his eyes and willingly dies at the ruthless hands of Ares? The god of war who brings her down on her knees while she blissfully falls into his melancholy.

"Be a good student, baby, and open your mouth for me." . . . In which 20-year-old Alyssa Silvestro decides to seduce her professor, who happens to be the older brother of her cheating ex-boyfriend. Revenge is best served cold, is what they say.

He swiped my sweat-soaked hair off my neck, resting his lips against my ear. His fiery breaths blew across my earlobe. My body shuddered once again, craving more of him. "You're not the first woman to think she could seduce me into bed because of who I am, what I write. And you won't be the last." He gave a small chuckle, pulling down my dress, so it covered me. "But," he said in a low growl, "so far...... you're my favorite." Breaths poured from my lips at those words. My heart fluttered inside my pounding chest. His favorite, my brain stuck to his words like glue. Clinging to the small hope we'd continue this somewhere else, more than once. We stayed in that position for a moment before his body heat disappeared from my back. He lit a cigarette in front of me, the flash of the lighter illuminating his flushed, sweat-soaked face. I leaned against the brick wall, finding comfort in the coolness against my heated skin. His eyes met mine again. I didn't think I could move from the spot, but he forced me to when he held up a red, lacy thong in between his fingers. My red lacy thong. Fucking panty thief! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Their worlds collided in a heated, passion-filled hook-up behind a bar, bringing their broken pieces together. And now? Mercy finds herself as C.J. Cole's intern. The very Mr. Cole who wrote the most romantic, erotic books she had ever laid eyes on. How could she manage to keep her panties on around him? Or control herself? Hint: she won't. Mature warning.