When your flatmate is the hottest new party planner in the country, three things are bound to happen: 1. You’ll have to take a work call for her while you’re in your underwear. 2. You’ll have to fill in for her after an emergency...and pretend to be her. 3. You will royally mess it up...until a hot future duke steps in to save your bum. Yes, yes, that all sounds wonderful, doesn’t it? Until you consider the party being planned is for the Dowager Duchess of Devon’s 80th birthday, and the current duchess is the ultimate type A personality, determined to micromanage the entire thing. I’m a type...XYZ...LMNOP...with zero organizational qualities. When all my planning goes to hell in a handbasket, the only hope I have to pull this thing off is duke-in-waiting Hugo Edwards. He’s the only person who knows who I really am. The success of his grandmother’s party relies on us getting along long enough to make it happen—and keeping our hands off one another. Neither of which are easy to achieve. And when my best friend shows up to take over from me, the fact that I might just be falling for Hugo is the least of my worries...
My name is Evangeline Astley, and the only thing you need to know about me is that I never imagined this was how my life would go. I was supposed to devote all my time to painting gorgeous things to eventually open my own art gallery. Instead, I spent it all trying to sell my art to save my parents' hotel. Cue the Earl of Anglesey and his not-so-stunning idea. Matthew Bennett needs an heir to the earldom, but for an heir, he needs a wife. And I'm the one the extremely eligible bachelor has chosen. Except I'm just as marriage-phobic as he is, so naturally, I refused-until he gives me an offer that I couldn't resist. If I agreed to marry him, provide an heir, and divorce him amicably in due course, he would save The Fox and Hound hotel that I love so much. That, ladies and gents, is how I became the Countess of Anglesey. The one thing I didn't count on? Falling in love with my husband.
My name is Adelaide Astley, and if there was anything remotely exciting about me to tell you, I would. Sure, my uncle is the Duke of Leicester, and my mother bucked family tradition to marry "below" her and open a hotel, but I'm nothing but an aspiring author with a Tudor era obsession. Oh, and I'm spending the summer tutoring the daughter of the current Duke of Worcester-who happens to be a regular in my highly inappropriate midnight dreams. Thirty-year-old Alexander Winthrop-Bentley is so not my type, but hours of chess games and arguments over Tudor dynasties mean we're thrown together more often than we should be. And when he shares with me that he needs a date for a charitable event, my mouth betrays me by offering myself up for the evening. How I find myself naked in the library is another matter entirely. Ahem. When the society papers declare us an item, neither of us have the heart to tell our families the truth. Only my twin sister and best friend know the truth, but they both agree we need to keep up the charade, even if only for the summer. But when the end of August comes and my return home beckons, I have to ask myself a question: Is it only his daughter who's stolen my heart, or has Alexander done the very same thing?
My name is Lady Gabriella Hastings, and there are three things you need to know about me. One, my idiot brother will inherit the estate I've adored my entire life. Two, my father wants me to marry an idiot who has an estate like this. Three, my aunt's goats keep escaping and terrorizing the public. Oh, and I have a huge crush on the gardener. But I have absolutely no time to sort out my own love life-because I'm too busy moonlighting as an online agony aunt to fix everyone else's problems. If only I could stop having inappropriate feelings about Miles Kingsley, the grumpy, bearded gardener of Arrowwood Hall. He hates me, and I'm not quite sure why. My own horticultural dreams are about to slip through my fingers, and he's the one person who can help me. If only he wasn't such a classist bas-ahem. But when a storm leaves us stranded at the estate with no power, and one of my assignments means I need his help, and a fancy party forces truths to come to light, there might just be a chance for us after all...
As the last woman standing, I, Piper Carter, am officially a loner. Apparently, that means it's time for me to get out there and find myself a man. My protestations that I have no time for it falls on deaf ears, and the next thing I know, I'm on a blind date with someone my best friends assure me will be perfect for me. Maverick Donovan, a guy I, uh, know very very well... After one conversation that makes my disdain for this setup very clear, the superstar playboy author asks me for only one thing: my help with his research for his next novel. It turns out that the heroine in his next hot romance is the owner of a bakery, but all his ill-fated efforts are baking the batteries in his fire alarm. I agree. I'll create some recipes for his leading lady, and he'll credit me and my store, giving me the recognition I need to help me on my way to franchising. If only we didn't have to spend almost every free waking moment together to make it happen. I don't want to give my heart to the guy with a trail of broken ones behind him, but there's a fundamental problem with that plan: I'm pretty sure I'm doing just that...
After four years living the single life, it's decided that I, London Stuart, am back on the market. I'm not even mad when my cousins and best friends put my name down for the speed-dating sessions. In fact, I'm actually a little excited about it. But then one of my dates turns out to be my six-year-old son's irresistibly sexy soccer coach-his irresistibly sexy British soccer coach. Oliver Hayes is too good to be true-he's tall, dark, handsome, hilarious, and genuinely loves kids...especially mine. But he's not sure if he's even staying in the country, and I'm not sure I can handle giving him my heart if he's only going to leave. So why is he over for dinner almost every night? Why is he giving Leo private goalie lessons in the backyard? Why is he sending flowers to my desk at the newspaper? And why, oh why, can't I stop kissing him?
With all my best friends off the market, it's time that I, Tori Sussex, join them. So where better to find my future husband than the internet? It's great. I get to get all the awkward stuff out of the way and already know if I'm going to like the guy before we meet in person. It's a shame nothing's ever that simple. My relationship with Colton Lane, my best friend's brother, is the very definition of complicated-dirty little no-strings-attached hook-ups we've somehow managed to keep secret from all our friends for the past six months. We're bound to get caught, and if I'm serious about dating, I only have one choice: call it quits; end our little covert booty calls for good; tell him my parking space is off-limits to him. It should be easy. It should be simple. And I'm sure it would be... if only I wasn't in love with him.
Let it be known that I, Saylor Green, am wholeheartedly against blind dating. I think it's superficial, unnecessary, and designed wholly to force people into relationships they aren't ready for.So when Dylan Parker takes the seat across from me, I'm ready to dismiss him at one glance.The problem? He's hot and funny and sweet and the exact kind of guy I read about in the romance novels I sell like hotcakes in my bookstore.He's also my new roommate... who likes to walk around in his sweatpants and peer over my shoulder and comment on all my online dating escapades.When he offers to help me flirt my way to dating success, I'm all for it. But what am I supposed to do when the only person I want to flirt with is Dylan?
Let it be known that I, Holley Stuart, do not give a single rat's behind about pro baseball's star pitcher Sebastian Stone. I definitely don't care that he's standing in my bookstore. Nor do I care that he seems to have forgotten about the last time we saw each other: senior prom, when he both humiliated me and broke my heart, albeit unknowingly.Now, he needs a date to his sister's wedding.Don't ask me how I ended up being it-I have no idea. But that's the least of my problems. His grandfather is adamant we're dating, and Seb isn't in a hurry to convince him otherwise, so I have no choice but to go along with it.The problem? The only thing I've ever faked is... well, you know. I've definitely never faked my feelings for someone. And judging by the way I feel whenever Seb looks at me, it doesn't look like I'm starting now...
What I wanted for my birthday: Books. What I got for my birthday: my brother's best friend playing matchmaker.Let it be known that I, Kinsley Lane, am one-hundred percent against being set up with somebody. And I'm one-thousand percent sure that Josh Carter is not the man to find me a boyfriend. I mean, if I'm so great, why isn't he the one dating me? (For the record, I don't know the answer. That's just what the guy on the internet asked.)Still, I'll humor him. If I go on his little dates, he'll teach my bookish, introverted self how not to be totally, completely, utterly, unforgivably awkward on every single one of them. And all I have to do is fall in love with one of the lovely gentlemen he's serving up for me on a silver platter-all of whom fit my very specific guidelines.Simple, right? It would be.If only I could stop falling for Josh.
There's nothing like starting your Monday morning with a positive pregnancy test. Trust me, I know-because I'm looking at one right now. All I can think is this: Oh, hell. My grandmother is going to kill me. Since this might just send her to an early grave, there's only one option-pretending the father is my new husband. If only he'll agree to fake it. Kai Connors was supposed to be nothing more than a one-night stand-a long, dirty one-night stand fueled by one too many tequila shots, where the only promise was to never speak of it again. But if my unfairly sexy next-door neighbor gets his way, this fake marriage could turn out to be very, very real...
Look, I didn't go out of my way to sleep with my next-door neighbor. It just happened.On the counter. Over the counter. Probably under it, too, if we hadn't moved it to the bedroom. But take it from me: a one night stand with your neighbor?It's not all it's cracked up to be...The One Night Stand Next Door is a short, flirty, and dirty prequel to The Girl Next Door. You don't have to listen to it before you dive into The Girl Next Door, but why wouldn't you?
