I have a fantastic family, great best friends, a job I love...and now I’m up for a promotion to police sergeant. I need total focus - not a flirty, dirty, irresistible, tattooed hottie riding into my town on his motorcycle. Can I arrest him for being too good-looking? When he kisses me senseless in the back of a waffle truck, it’s criminal, the things he makes me think about hot syrup and melted butter. One order of hot, fluffy hookup to go, please. But the next time I see him, it’s not for our date with benefits. He’s the guy who just rented the room above my garage.  

Some women are just forbidden. Like - off the top of my head - my sister's lifelong best friend. Sis has made it patently clear that Vanessa is hands-off, as in keep my ladies' man paws far away from her clever, go-getter best friend who's ready for the real deal. That should be an easy guideline to follow, except Vanessa is deliciously flirty, easy to talk to, and laughs at my jokes. Translation - my libido has been craving her many, many years. So many that we might have stolen a kiss or two. Can you say pent-up, crazy, raw desire?

The seven years I invested in my ex left me with nothing but scorch marks from the way he peeled out and left me at the altar. I’m not looking to put my heart into a relationship any time soon. But getting back out there? That sounds like a helluva good idea to get my groove back. Then I bump into Chris....Clever and funny, with a sexy surfer’s bod and a brilliant nerd brain, he has just the right screwdriver to fix my hard drive.

I couldn't have scripted a more perfect night. For one fantastic evening, at a masquerade party in the heart of Manhattan, I'm not the millionaire everyone wants a piece of. Fine - multimillionaire. But who's counting all those commas? Not me, and not the most intriguing woman I've ever met. And that's why I'm eager to get to know her more, since my mystery woman seems to like me for me, rather than for my huge...bank account. Everything's coming up aces. Until the next day, when things get a little complicated. (Newsflash - a lot complicated.)

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That smoking hot one-night stand with a former rock star? Turns out, he's my son's new teacher. Oops. But I didn't know that the night I met Campbell. All I knew was he played my body the same way he played a guitar - like he owned it. My libido is still high-fiving me after being self-served for too many years, and we're both ready for another night or two of fun, especially since we don't just have chemistry in bed - we connect over everything. That is, until I learn he's the man who'll be coming to my house twice a week to teach my son the best music lessons money can buy.

The Everest Brothers is a compilation of contemporary romance, royal romance, and romantic suspense best-selling novels. These alphas fall hard and love harder while sweeping the women in their lives off their feet. You will fall head over heels for these billionaire heroes with hearts of gold while cheering for the confident women who steal their hearts.

I'm breaking up with setups. No more “you should meet my son, nephew, grandson, the butcher, the guy down the street who mows my lawn.” People mean well, but machines know better, so I'll rely on the great dating algorithms of the web to find my ideal man, thank you very much. Soon enough, it looks like I’ve found him - his screen name is Lucky Suit, and he’s hilarious, quick-witted, and full of heart. But when we finally get together in person, I have the distinct feeling I’ve met him before. Funny enough - he says the same thing about me. 

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When he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close at my brother’s wedding, my heart beat faster. When we danced into the night, my mind raced far ahead, entertaining all the possibilities I’d longed for. And later, when Cooper told me he’d won the starting quarterback job before he shared the news with anyone else, I started to believe we could be more. But I didn’t want to lose him as a friend, so I chose to focus on him solely as my buddy. That worked well enough for a while. Until that night, in front of everyone, when he shocked my world to its core.

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.

Awkward? Maybe. But how else is a good girl going to find out if she likes being naughty? I might be sweet as cherry pie, but I'm also bold and damn curious. And Gabe is charming, trustworthy, aces at seduction (or so I hear) and - bonus! - willing to give me lessons. But to guarantee it won’t ruin our friendship, I have some specific requirements for his instruction. I want these classes to be hypothetical more than hands-on. So what if he’s hella sexy? I can handle that, no problem.  

It was just a typical Monday. Until the big boss asked me to make the pitch for a prospective new client. After two years on shaky ground at work because of my screw up, an opportunity to impress the senior partners was just what I needed. Or so I thought, until I walked into the conference room and collided with the man I was supposed to pitch to. My coffee spilled, my files tumbled to the ground, and I almost lost my balance. And that was the good part of my day. Because the gorgeous man who crouched down and looked at me like he wanted to eat me alive was none other than my ex.

My love wand is on a strike. As bad as that blows, pun unintended, it’s 10 times worse for me. I’m a male escort, but not just any escort, I’m the escort. The one with a mile-long waiting list and a pristine reputation that’s very well-deserved. Only now, I’m on hiatus. Because after years of pleasing women all over the city, my man missile decides to get finicky. And the only woman he wants? Someone I can never have - my best friend’s younger sister, the nerdy and awkwardly adorable Sienna.

When you think about how easy it is to lose keys, phones, sunglasses and your dignity on social media, you might figure it'd be a cinch for me to ditch my V Card. You'd be wrong. At 25, I run a successful business, live in a fantastic apartment, and have fabulous friends to go out with any night of the week. And yet I'm still a card-carrying member of a club I don't want to belong to anymore. Good thing I know just the man for the deflowering job - my brother’s business partner and best friend.