Catastrophe Queen

Everything I touch turns to crap. It’s me. No, seriously. Yay, me!which is why i need my new job as personal assistant to Cameron Reid to get back on my feet. Keep everything in order. Until i walk in on my boss, half-naked, wearing nothing but the kind of tiny white towel that dreams are made of. Now, nothing is easy—except our mutual attraction.

Three months in this job and I can move back out and, hopefully, remember to turn off my flat iron once in a while. Make coffee. Book appointments. Not only does my name literally mean “unfortunate, ” but that’s the story of my life. One hot mess. It is me. An apartment fire—that i swear I was not responsible for—means I’m living back at home with my sex-mad parents.

But he’s my boss, and you know what they say about mixing work and pleasure: unless you do p*rn, it’s just not worth it. Or is it? On paper, my job is easy. One hot boss. Ahem. One too many hot encounters.

The Roommate Agreement

It's only temporary, he said. He never said I'd fall for him. You know what isn't 'temporary?' the endless stream of dirty socks in my bathroom and empty food packets under the sofa—and don't even get me started on the hot guys who take over my living room every Sunday to watch sports. I can't take anymore.

One that will bring peace and order back to my life, complete with rules that might just stop my newfound crush on my best friend in its tracks. After all, there’s only so many times you can see your best friend naked before you start to lose your mind. Rules. Being roommates will be fun, he said. Aren't they?

They're meant to be broken. So i propose a roommate agreement. Let your homeless best friend stay with you, he said.

Kiss Me Tonight

My hero. It’s fine. The last thing i needed first thing on a Monday was a picture of some stranger’s, eggplant, um, in my inbox. I also should have replaced the batteries in my fire alarm, because my Friday night did not need to end with my apartment building going up in flames. But it’s fine. Noah Jacobs.

And the universe is amusing itself at my expense, because the dirty photo I woke up to on Monday?It’s his. Everything is fine. I’m only lying in a hospital bed with more split ends than I’ve ever had, and apparently, almost all my Earthly possessions have turned to ash, they don’t serve wine to patients in this place.

But like i said, it’s fine. Until he walks in. The guy who saved my life. What do a wrong number text, a burning building, and a quirky florist have in common?A hunky firefighter with an extra-large…hosepipe. In hindsight, I never should have opened that text message.

Kiss Me Not

What do you do when you’re the reigning kissing booth champion but the only person you want to kiss is your best friend’s brother?Let me make this clear right here, right now: I, Halley Dawson, do not care that Preston Wright is kissing other women. Not a lick. Not at all. Nuh-uh-freakin’-uh. I do care that he’s doing it six feet away from me behind a gaudy velvet curtain—making him my competition in this year’s kissing contest.

Why do i care, you ask? because i’ve had an unfortunate crush on the insufferable idiot since I was sixteen years old, but I also know it’s never going to happen. He’s the creek falls bachelor to die for, and I’m the Creek Falls racoon lady who puts peanut butter sandwiches out for them every night.

I’m not going to let him break my four-year-long reign—no matter how many times he breaks the rules and slides the curtain across to do the one thing he’s not allowed to:Kiss me.

The Accidental Girlfriend

Someone will take you up on it. And it won't just be for one night. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I ended up being Mason Jackson's fake girlfriend. He didn't even want me to be. Top tip: don't put out an online ad offering your services as a fake date. No--his sister was solely responsible for me being his date for his ten-year high school reunion.

Now, she's responsible for telling his parents our relationship is real. We have no choice. We have to act like this isn't all a mistake, completely, utterly, like it's not all fake, like we're totally, head-over-heels in love with each other. Simple, right?Wrong.

Kiss Me Again

There’s also that little issue where I’m kinda, sorta, totally in love with him…Uh-oh. Must be tidy, polite, and absolutely not my brother’s hot as sin best friend. Maybe i’d done it accidentally. Yet he’s here. Wanted: rooMMATE. Maybe i’d been sleep-texting. One thing i know for sure is this: I absolutely do not want Ethan Hawkins in my apartment, up in my business, taking over my space.

Here’s the thing. We don’t get along—at all. Moving his stuff into my spare bedroom. We never have, and i don’t think we’re going to start now that we’re under one roof. I have no idea why I said yes. Maybe i’d had one too many wines. Sending a wave of panty-melting, musky man-scent my way every time he walks past me.


Tequila Tequila

Whoopsie?don’t sleep with your best friend. Except I can't forget. He swears that he can’t remember a thing about that night beyond the trays of tequila shots being set on the tables. Embarrassing. I did it. And it was awful. I-wish-the-tequila-made-me-forget kind of bad. The problem is, Luke has forgotten. Nothing good comes from telling your best friend he’s the worst guy you’ve ever slept with.

Which makes the tequila on my birthday a very, very bad idea…. Tequila + your best friend + your bedroom = um. I can’t forget how good his hands felt until I fell over and hit my hip on the dresser, and I sure as hell can’t forget the entire two minutes of tap-tap-squirt. Awkward. Take it from me. And the new subject of a couple of dirty lucid dreams.

But i have no intention of telling him what we did.

The Dating Experiment

Everything is perfect. He does—if I find him one, too. Since we own stupid Cupid, it should be easy, right? And it is. My date is perfect. His date is perfect. 1. Get over my best friend’s brother. 2. Remember that I’m over him. 3. Prove i can date other people. It should be easy. It’s not. Setting up a dating website with the guy I’ve been in love with since I was five wasn’t my smartest idea.

Especially since he’s my best friend’s brother—thankfully, she’s okay with the fact I’m pulling a Sandy and I’m hopelessly devoted to him. Which is why it’s time to get over him. So i do something crazy and ask Dominic Austin to find me a date. Until he kisses me…Three dates. One kiss. And a big-ass mess….


Tomboy The Hartigans Book 3

I never slept with him the first time! But no one will listen. And now this fickle town wants me with the big jerk twenty-four seven. Argh. Then the grumpy bastard goes and promises to break his no-fan-appearances rule to help raise money for a free health clinic—but only if I’m rink-side at every game.

Of course she would call in a favor for the most hated man in Harbor City. But when he’s finally on the mend and I’m sneaking out of his place, everything goes sideways. Paparazzi spot me and pictures, plus accusations that I slept with him, fly faster than a hockey puck. At first, all of harbor City wants my blood—or to give me a girlie-girl makeover.

But then…the team finally wins a game. How exactly has one good deed landed me in the penalty box?Ice Knights defenseman Zach Blackburn has come down with the flu, and my BFF—his PR manager—begs me to put my nursing degree to use and get him back to health. That’s not a deal I can turn down. But when the team keeps winning, and i realize there’s more to him than his bad reputation, suddenly remembering to keep my real hands off my fake date gets harder and harder to do.

Each book in the hartigans series is STANDALONE:* Butterface* Muffin Top* Tomboy.

The Upside to Being Single

Tall, dark, and Silent. There are many upsides to being single. Your new boss knowing what your boobs look like?Not one of them. The upside to being single is a standalone, romantic comedy from the author who brought you MISS FIX-IT and BEING BROOKE. If anyone asks, i knew better than to flash my boobs for Mardi Gras beads.

I still don’t know why I did it. Maybe it was the dare from my two best friends. Maybe it was the guys on the balcony saying they’d throw Fireball shots with the beads. Or maybe it was the quiet guy in the corner of that same balcony with piercing gray eyes, wavy dark hair, and a smile so tempting I wanted to climb up there and lick it off his face.

Maybe it was because I never thought I’d see them again. Not that it matters. Not today. Because the hotel i manage was finally bought—and the guy who walks in and introduces himself as my new boss is Mr.

Four Day Fling

I sure as hell didn’t know he was adam winters, hotshot hockey player—and not only my father’s favorite player, but my little nephew’s freakin’ idol. I didn’t know where he grew up, what he’d majored in in college, or how many siblings he had. Big, big trouble. My mother is suspicious, my sister is bridezilla on crack, and my grandpa will tell anyone who’ll listen about his time in Amsterdam’s Red Light District.

Four days. I have to keep this up for four days, and then adam and I can return to our regular lives, where we don’t have sex whenever we’re alone and my family aren’t interrogating him over his intentions with me. At least, that’s the plan. And we all know what happens to those. And over coffee and omelets, I found myself a date.

Which was how i ended up arriving at the wedding with a guy I knew nothing about. I didn’t know his last name, or how we met, or how long we’d been dating. A standalone romantic comedy of epically awkward proportions, from New York Times bestselling author, Emma Hart. Imagine this. You’re ready to leave after a one-night stand, and you’re figuring out how to—shock horror—leave your number and ask him to be your fake boyfriend for your sister’s wedding this weekend.