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He is addicted to his phone and his new role as CEO. I'm addicted to getting some on my own honeymoon. One of these things is not like the other. I am pretty sure a serial killer's lair is the only place in the world where I could stash my new husband so he can't manage the acquisition of our new company. And that seems a little drastic. But only a little... All I want is one week alone with him. Hours in bed, legs tangled together...

All of our best dates end up in the emergency room.... I planned the perfect proposal. Plenty of lobster, caviar, champagne and-her favorite-tiramisu. The perfect setting. The perfect woman. The perfect everything. My dad gave me my late mother's engagement ring, platinum and diamonds galore. Of course, my Shannon wouldn't care if I slid a giant hard-candy ring on her finger instead of a three-carat diamond designed to impress. But my future mother-in-law,...

I'm thrilled to be the maid of honor in my friend's wedding, but the best man, Andrew McCormick, is a chauvinistic pig with a God complex. And I can't stop kissing him in closets. (Don't ask.) He's the brother of the groom and the CEO of my biggest mystery shopping account, but suddenly he's refusing to be in the wedding. He won't talk about it. Won't see reason. He's such a man. And he still won't stop kissing me in random closets. (Thank goodness.) I'm...

Snowbound. Sounds so romantic, with visions of cuddling before a roaring fire, hot chocolate spiked with brandy, and a secret elopement. Wait. What? My fiancé's father won't stop trying to turn our pending wedding into a three-ring media circus so he can get free publicity for his family's Fortune 500 company. My mother has decided she's done with All Things Wedding and asks her teacup Chihuahua for mother-of-the-bride advice. They've all gone...

My mother wants all her kids and grandkids to spend Christmas Eve at her house and wake up on Christmas morning together. Sounds reasonable, right? And it would be. If it weren't my mother. My husband, Declan, is protesting any involvement, though he's openly intrigued by the idea of claiming his territory by having sex in my childhood bed. And by intrigued, I mean a series of really hot suggestions that make me whimper when I have to say no. Wait...

You know what's even better than marrying a billionaire? Having his baby. We're ready. We've studied and planned, read all the birth and labor books, researched parenting classes, consulted our schedules, and it's time. And by we I mean me. Declan's just ready for the "have lots of sex" part. More than ready. But there's just one problem: my husband and his brother have this little obsession with competition. And by little, I mean stupid. That's...

I never intended to pick up a naked hitchhiker wearing nothing but a guitar. A guitar. Really. I don't collect guys like that (don't ask what kind of guys I do collect), but when you spot a blonde, tanned, sculpted man with a gorgeous smile and his thumb poking up and practically begging you to stop-you stop. And I definitely never thought I'd be staring into the bright blue eyes of Trevor Connor, the lead singer for Random Acts of Crazy, an indie...

It all started with the wrong Help Wanted ad. Of course it did. I'm a professional fluffer. It's NOT what you think. I stage homes for a living. Real estate agents love me, and my work stands on its own merits. Sigh. Get your mind out of the gutter. Go ahead. Laugh. I'll wait. See? That's the problem. My career has used the term "fluffer" for decades. I didn't even know there was a more... lascivious definition of the term. Until it was...

I swear I am not the kind of person who gets her cell phone caught in places that require an ER trip and an OBGYN. But, apparently, I am. I'm also not the kind of person who spends all her time thinking about the guy who got away. But, apparently, I am, too. Starting a new life in Boston isn't supposed to include repeatedly embarrassing myself in public, meeting a crazy blond woman who has ties to the band Random Acts of Crazy, and definitely isn't...

I never thought my perp walk would lead to true love. Then again, I never thought I'd be arrested on RICO charges and hauled away in zip ties on camera for the world to see, minutes after closing the most amazing deal of my career. And all of it in front of my biggest rival, billionaire wunderkind Ian McCrory. I am broke. I am disgraced. I am alone. I am a sucker. But the worst part? I have to go back to my hometown and live in my bedroom filled...