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Elise Faber

The man had seemed so innocent in the bar—okay, not innocent, per se. He’d been hot, hard, and possessed a butt that I wanted to bite like the last chocolate chip cookie in my stash.

He’d also skipped out of town faster than a villain in a B movie, leaving me woefully unsatisfied. I’d chalked the whole incident up to a bad night stand and moved on with my life.

That was before the news of a failed IUD. Before the plus sign. Before Jordan showed back up determined to make that night up to me.

I didn’t want a baby or a payday or a sexy, stubborn man in my life. I wanted to go back in time and pretend none of it had happened.

Unfortunately, my life had become all about that plus sign . . . and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

Avery Caris

Billionaire's Club

Bad Night Stand

The first sign of trouble was the rough, masculine voice.

The second was the Scottish accent.

God, Cecelia loved Scottish accents.

The last was the scent—his scent—familiar and uniquely Colin.

Cecelia had been through bad breakups before but none had compared to the two, yes two, that had come at Colin’s hands, because she was apparently glutton for punishment and didn’t know better and was young and stupid and in love.

Had been in love. Twice.

And she’d had her heart broken. Twice.

Well, the third time wasn’t the charm and CeCe wasn’t going to be stupid about Colin. Not again, not now that she knew better. Nope. There would be no brooding, gorgeously sexy, Scottish hero in her future.

But had anyone informed Colin of that fact?

Bad Breakup

Heather O’Keith is the biggest, baddest female CEO around.

She’s known for being tough as nails, fair to a fault, and a shark when it comes to securing contracts for her business, RoboTech.

She’s also lonely.

Not that she would tell anyone else that . . . least of all one Clay Steele—sexy, smart, cold, and a man with a business acumen that both matches and sometimes surpasses her own.

But then fate catches them both at a weak moment and Heather realizes that she may not be the only lonely one. The big lug who seems to enjoy tormenting her in the business world also has a soft side. And when that part of him is wholly directed at her, she gets stupid.

Stupid finds her waking up hungover and naked in Clay’s bed.

With a giant diamond ring.

On her left hand.

And a wedding license with their names on it.

Oh lord, what has she done?

Bad Husband

Hookups weren’t for her.

Rachel knew that. She was a good girl—sigh—she’d always been a good girl.

Except when it came to him.

She’d met the him in question in a bar of all places and his lean strength, gorgeous face, and way-too-charming personality had combined to shatter her defenses. All of a sudden she’d been doing all of those “dangerous, bad girl” things her grandmother had once warned her of.

And just like her grandma had predicted, he’d vanished come morning.

No note. No exchanged numbers. She hadn’t even known his name.

Fine. Whatever. Rachel had chalked it up to a horrible—albeit, wholly pleasurable—mistake and moved on. She was the assistant to Heather O’Keith, a kick ass, take-no-prisoners CEO of a billion dollar corporation, she didn’t have time to sit around and worry over a man.

But then Heather had gotten her happily ever after by marrying equally successful business entrepreneur, Clay Steele, and Rachel discovered that she had to work in close, day-to-day contact with him.

Sebastian Henley. The man from the bar. The sexy, gorgeous, irresistible disappearing man from the bar.

And he still made her want to do bad, bad things.

Bad Hookup

Bec Darden was a high-powered attorney who had spent her entire adult life building a fearsome reputation both in the courtroom and the boardroom.

But once upon a time, she was also a naïve and romantic—aka idiotic—soul who’d married her college sweetheart on a whim just before graduating. She and Luke were young and in love and—

No surprise, her marriage had been short-lived.

Explosive. Miserable. And incredibly, incredibly short-lived.

But now Luke Pearson was back in her life and with the worst possible news. Her marriage, the one she’d almost immediately regretted, and the subsequent divorce she’d paid through the teeth for by working insane hours and basically not sleeping for several years hadn’t happened.

As in she was still freaking married.

Luke had been sexy in high school, gorgeous in college, but he was even hotter as a grown man and his reappearance in her life hadn’t done anything to dampen the attraction she felt for him.

But Bec had already learned that sex wasn’t everything. One broken heart was enough, and she wasn’t in the market to give Luke another chance at shattering her all over again. He needed to sign the divorce papers she drafted and leave her to her life.

Except . . . what did they say about best laid plans?

Because Luke wouldn’t sign.

Bad Divorce

Sera used to believe in happily ever afters.

Well, she still believed in them. Just not for her.

For Seraphina Delgado, finding a man who loved her for who she was inside, rather than simply appreciating her outward appearance, had proved to be impossible.

She wasn’t trying to be cocky—cock, ha­—but she was beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that she’d spent her childhood and tween years modeling and shooting commercials and . . . well, only being appreciated for the way she looked.

And that was more curse than advantage because looks faded. People aged, wrinkles formed, boobs sagged . . .

Anyway, none of that mattered because no man ever saw who she truly was on the inside.

Until Tate.

He was more interested in software than her cup size and had hired her to help him find a house. He didn’t care about her looks or her boobs, only her abilities as a real estate agent.

But then he showed up in her office with a crazy proposition. One so crazy, it almost made sense.

He wanted them to get married.

And Sera thought she just might agree.

Bad Fiancé

Kelsey Scott never wanted anything more serious than a hookup. Work triumphed all, men were simply trainable orgasm machines, and her friends and family were everything. 

But with her brother's wedding rapidly approaching and matchmaking ensuing from all angles, she decided she needed a buffer from all the “perfect Mr. Rights,” the white tulle and frumpy bridesmaid dresses, and—ick—the heart-warming vows.

What she didn’t need was Tanner. Her ex. The only man who had ever managed to weasel his way into her heart.

And by typical male progression, the only man to break it.

She was done with men. And certainly done with boyfriends. But when she and Tanner got paired up as a bridesmaid and groomsman at her brother's wedding, Kelsey found it hard to remember all her steadfast rules.

Especially when Tanner made her long for all those heart-warming feels.

Bad Boyfriend

Trixie Donovan had left California for bigger and better things.

Then had kept on moving, putting her nursing skills to use to help people all over the world. But living without reliable electricity or clean water or, hell, the internet had grown old.

Now she was back. She’d finally figured out what Netflix was, though she was still iffy on Tinder, and she’d become her half-sister Heather’s new pet project.

Eventually, after a sickeningly amount of pestering, Trix gave in, agreeing to a single blind date.

A blind date who turned out to be Jet.

The doctor she’d worked with halfway around the world. The man she’d slept with and then had fallen desperately in love with. The one who, in cliché, naïve fashion, had decimated her heart. And the one who transformed an unwanted, but tolerable night out into the blind date from hell.

Because apparently Jet had decided his biggest regret was letting her go.

Bad Blind Date

It began with a cock.

Of the rooster variety.

It ended with a groomsman toppling into the wedding cake.

Heidi hadn’t meant to be a bad bridesmaid. She loved her best friend and the man Kate was marrying.

Who she didn’t love?

The groom’s brother.

The cocky—no pun intended—jerk had made Heidi aware of exactly what he thought of her. That being, she wasn’t worth anything more than a quick romp and a disappearing act before the sun rose.

Fine. Whatever. She’d done her own version of the Disappearing Act on more than one occasion. It didn’t matter that she had thought they had shared something . . . well, something more.

Clearly, she’d been wrong, and now he was dead to her.

Of course, that was before she had to walk down the aisle with him.

Because that’s when all hell broke loose.

Bad Bridesmaid

Stef blamed the dating app.

She saw his picture—his smile, the rugged line of his jaw, the way the man could fill out a suit, and like an idiot, she fell a bit in love with him.

Idiot because no one ever really looked like their profile pic. Idiot also because if the man did look like his profile pic then he certainly wasn’t going to be into a science geek who binged old Sci-Fi shows on the regular, and whose longest relationship was with her golden retriever named Fred.

But in a night of drunken insanity, she swiped right on the picture she’d been drooling over for months.

Then in a morning of hangover unpleasantness, she saw that he’d swiped right, too.

And suddenly, she found herself on a date with the man of her dreams.

The only question was whether or not he lived up to them.

Billionaire's Club

Billionaire's Club

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