Everyone says opposites attract. And they must be right, because there’s no logical reason why I’m so drawn to Colin Fitzgerald. I don’t usually go for tattoo-covered, video-gaming, hockey-playing nerd-jocks who think I’m flighty and superficial. His narrow view of me is the first strike against him. It doesn’t help that he’s buddy-buddy with my brother. And that his best friend has a crush on me. And that I just moved in with them. Oh, did I not mention we’re roommates?

The beginning of my sophomore year in college was off to a rough start. On the first day of orientation, I had an altercation with an infuriating British dude in a campus bathroom. (The ladies’ room was out of order. So, I used the men’s room. Don’t judge.) I got home later that night and realized that the foreign student we were expecting to rent a room in my parents’ house was allergic to our cat. So, the spare room went to someone else: Caleb - the British guy from the men’s room. And so it began...my love-hate story with Caleb Yates. Or was it hate-love in that order?

The feud between Weston Lockwood and me started at the altar. Only neither of us attended the wedding, and the nuptials happened decades before either of us was born. Our grandfathers had been best friends and business partners, at least up until my grandfather’s wedding day - when his bride-to-be blurted out she couldn’t marry him because she was also in love with Weston‘s grandfather.  

Hosting her brother's wedding for an MVP guest list is the challenge of Jess Canning's life. Already the family screw-up, she can't afford to fail. And nobody (nobody!) can learn of the colossal mistake she made with the best man during a weak moment last spring. It was wrong, and there will not be a repeat. Absolutely not. Even if he is the sexiest thing on two legs.

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....

It all started with a sexy selfie. Texted to the wrong number. Oops. Not my finest moment - but I have nothing to be ashamed of. She thought I was no better, and I quote, than the knuckle-dragging douchebags she was never dating again. It was a stupid dare from a girl I’d met online, but since she’d given me a fake number, I didn’t feel bad that my interests were suddenly focused elsewhere - on the fiery and sharp-tongued Peyton that I found myself sparring with over text. The following day, my case of mistaken identity came back to bite me in the banana.

Célian Laurent. Manhattan royalty. Notorious playboy. Heir to a media empire...and my new boss. I could have impressed him, if not for last month's unforgettable one-night stand. I left it with more than orgasms and a pleasant memory - namely, his wallet. Now he's staring me down like I'm the dirt under his Italian loafers, and I'm supposed to take it. But the thing about being Judith "Jude" Humphry is I have nothing to lose. Brooklyn girl. Infamously quirky. Heir to a stack of medical bills and a tattered couch. 

Fake. That's what we are. That's what we agreed to be. So why does it feel so real? I thought it would have been harder, convincing everyone our school's star receiver was mine and mine alone, but I was wrong. We played our parts so well that the lines between us began to blur until they disappeared completely. The thing about pretending, though, is that someone's always better at it, and by the time I realized my mistake, there was no going back.

Life is smooth sailing until these new roomies find themselves stuck between a rock and a very hard place. Because lusting after the one person you shouldn't ever mess around with - your new roommate - is like cardinal rule number one. Get ready for four complete friends-to-lovers rom-com standalones: The Room Mate, The Play Mate, The House Mate, and The Soul Mate.

Sometimes I need an escape from the demands, the puck bunnies, and the notoriety that come with being an NHL team captain. I just want to be a normal guy for a few weeks. So when I leave Chicago for some peace and quiet, the last thing I expect is for a gorgeous woman to literally fall into my lap on a flight to Alaska. Even better, she has absolutely no idea who I am.

"Jane Austen, Emily Brontë, William Shakespeare m'avaient convaincue à coups de milliers de pages que l'amour, même dans la mort, est triomphant ! Et pourtant, je suis là, à me demander si la vraie fin de toute histoire n'est pas celle d'Emma Bovary... Jane, Emily, William, ils n'ont pas rencontré Terence Cesare."

Que feriez-vous si du jour au lendemain votre vie se retrouvait parasitée par votre parfait opposé ? Le laisseriez-vous entrer ? Mes amies me conseillent de me lâcher... Serai-je assez audacieuse, ou inconsciente, pour pactiser avec le Diable en échange de ce que j'ai toujours rêvé d'obtenir ?

Between her waitressing job, volunteer work, and college classes, there are never enough hours in Maggie Reilly’s day. Especially not for a relationship. Luckily, she’s got the perfect arrangement: a lover she meets three or four times a year. But when she shows up at the hotel expecting to hop into bed with one man, she accidentally ends up with another - Ben Barrett, Hollywood’s most notorious bad boy.

The rich and popular Sharks rule at prestigious, ivy-covered Camden Prep. Once upon a time, I wanted to be part of their world - until they destroyed me. The last thing I expected was an anonymous love letter from one of them. Please. I hate every one of those rich jerks for what they did to me. The question is, which Shark is my secret admirer? Knox, the scarred quarterback. Dane, his twin brother. Or Chance, the ex who dumped me...

S'il existe un homme que la vendeuse et photographe amateur, Diane Petit, déteste plus que tout, c'est le grand fabricant de parfums, Sébastien Darcy, qui a non seulement volé l'entreprise du père de Diane, mais également détruit sa santé. Mais l'arrogant salaud ferait mieux de se méfier parce que Diane prépare sa vengeance. Et la vengeance est un plat qui se mange froid. Mon meilleur ennemi est une comédie romantique inspirée de Orgueil et préjugés.