You don’t know me, but you do know me. I’m your neighborhood hot mess single mom, doing my best to keep my head above water while running my little slice of heaven and keeping my youngest from shoving marbles up his nose, which is exactly what he’s doing the first time Levi Wilson, pop star god, world’s sexiest man, and my all-time number one celebrity obsession, walks into my bookstore.

Related: I’m writing this from beyond the grave, because I’ve died of mortification and am now residing in an alternate universe.

I have to be.

Because Levi Wilson came back.

And we had a moment.

Like, a moment moment. The kind that makes me remember that adult pleasure isn’t all about hoping the lock holds in the bathroom so your kids don’t interrupt on the rare occasion you feel like taking an extra-long mommy-time shower.

So when he proposes a no-strings fling?

Count. Me. In.

Thrill of a lifetime, right?

Surely, nothing will go wrong…

If people have polar opposites, Luca Rossi is mine.

His butt is in the baseball hall of fame. Mine’s comfortably seated in the hall of lame.

When he’s not snagging fly balls out in center field, he’s modeling in shampoo commercials. I once jammed my own finger while stirring cookie dough, and sometimes I forget shampoo is a thing.

He’s a total cynic when it comes to love.

I make a living writing love stories.

But after my latest broken engagement (no, I don’t want to talk about how many times that’s happened), it’s clear he’s exactly the man I need.

If anyone can teach me to be the opposite of me, it’s him.

The first thing I want him to teach me?

How to not fall in love.

And as luck would have it, he’s in desperate need of a fake girlfriend to get a meddling grandmother off his back.

We couldn’t be more perfect together, because the last thing Luca Rossi will ever be is the next man to leave me at the altar.

Or will he?

Real Fake Love is a line drive straight to the heart featuring a grumpy athlete, a jilted bride, a fake relationship, and the world’s laziest cat. It stands alone and comes complete with sibling rivalry, the world’s most awkward shower scene, and a sweetly satisfying happily ever after.

She can't let him score… 

Call it superstition, but when a guy bats as hot as Brooks Elliott, you don't mess with what's working. And what's working is him keeping his pants zipped and doing all of his scoring on the field.

So when I hear he's planning to ditch his V-card now that he's been traded to baseball's lovable losers—aka my home team and my reason for living every March through October—I do what any rational, dedicated, obsessed fan would do.

I make a plan to stop him.

But the thing about stopping him is that it requires spending time with him.

Lots. And lots. And lots of time.

And the more time I spend with him, the more I like him. Not as the guy who's going to help save my favorite team and finally bring home a championship ring, but as the guy who's helping me in my quest to bring back the team's old mascot. Who also loves making pancake and bacon sandwiches. And who would do almost anything for his love of the game.

But after all this time of jock-blocking him…do I even have a chance?

And if I do, are we both destined to a life of celibacy in the name of winning?

Jock Blocked is a home run of a feel-good romantic comedy featuring the world's most superstitious sports fan, baseball's oldest virgin hero, a rogue meatball, an adorable puppy with a cussing problem, and the best lovable losers. It stands alone and comes with a happily ever after more satisfying than a game-winning grand slam.

Never borrow pants from your brother. Especially if he’s a size smaller than you are, because all that pressure in the junk will short-circuit your brain.

And you’ll lie to a woman in a club about your real name.

Leave her unsatisfied after making out in a bathroom.

Then find out that she’s the one thing standing in the way of your dreams. And she very much doesn’t like being lied to.

Now I have to convince Lila Valentine—the woman I can’t stop thinking about, my biggest regret, and my new boss—that I’m what’s best for the baseball team she’s inherited.

If we can’t work together to save the Fireballs, the commissioner’s forcing a sale and moving them across the country.

I’ll do anything to save my home team.

But the one thing I can’t do?

Keep my hands to myself. 

Which would be fine, if she hadn’t been telling me lies this whole time too.

Liar, Liar, Hearts on Fire is a rocking fun romance between a single dad obsessed with baseball, an heiress with secrets, baseball pants, a rundown team, and rabid ducks. It stands alone and comes with a guaranteed happily-ever-after.

He’s the world’s most alpha Marine and the last man I should be letting jingle my bells this holiday season. 

So why does Clint O’Dell keep running through my thoughts wearing nothing but a Santa hat? And why do I stupidly agree that we should be Christmas friends with benefits?

Someone must have spiked my eggnog. 

I don’t do Marines. 

Or Santas. 

I learned my lesson about both the hard way. 

But when Clint steps in to rescue me—from a murderous goose, a rogue reindeer, and the ghost of Christmas Right Now causing trouble in my bakery—I can’t help but wonder if we’re meant to be more than friends. 

If maybe Clint is the holiday miracle I’ve been praying for…or if all the magic will disappear with the season.

Humbugged is a laugh out loud holiday romp featuring a Marine with a heart of gold and a baker in need of a hero. Complete with the world's most awkward Christmas caroling, a photoshoot with furry friends, and more naughty baked goods than is good or decent.

Is there anything hotter than a growly, overprotective Marine cradling a baby? My melted ovaries don’t think so.

When you work hard and have the bank account to prove it, you’re entitled to play hard. I’ve seen some crazy things. I’ve caused some crazy scenes. And there’s no shame in my game.

But I’m still knocked off my stilettos when an insane chain of events leads to me inheriting a baby. The craziest part? The baby comes with a by-the-books, no-nonsense retired Marine who's so regimented that I wouldn't be surprised if he irons his boxer shorts.

Parenting? Bring it on. I don’t need sleep—I once started my day with business meetings in Cairo and ended it three days later at a club in Melbourne. Changing diapers? Please. It can't be any more challenging than changing out of Spanx on the back of a moving motorcycle. Training the little guy to run the family’s real estate empire? He’ll be all our bosses by the time he’s four.

But living with my new co-guardian? The gruff, muscled, tattooed former military man who manages to check all my boxes while trying to sneak under my skin?

He needs to go.

Because the longer he stays, the more layers he’s peeling off my heart.

But love isn’t something that’s ever diluted my gene pool, and I like my life just fine without it. I have awesome friends, this adorable baby and an obscene amount of money. Who needs love?

Turns out…maybe me.

The Bluewater Billionaires are four shared-world hot romantic comedies written by Lucy Score, Claire Kingsley, Kathryn Nolan, and Pippa Grant. They can all be read as stand-alone novels.

Crazy for Loving You is a larger-than life ride through accidental parenthood featuring a fun-loving billionaire playgirl, a crusty Marine with a gooey center, a horny dolphin, the world’s most obscene pool, and all the fun you’d expect from a world built by Lucy Score, Claire Kingsley, Kathryn Nolan, and Pippa Grant.

She’s the last woman on earth I’d marry….again.

Yet here I am.

Saying my vows. Again.

To save an alpaca.

At least, that’s my story.

But the truth might be a little more complicated.

I didn’t want to let her go the first time. But now I have a second chance to win over my wife.

We’re older. Wiser. And hornier.

This time, I won’t fail.

Hitched is a red hot, enemies-to-lovers laugh-a-palooza featuring a girl in need of a marriage of convenience and a man in need of a cold shower to keep from falling for his fake wife. They say opposites attract, but with Blake and Hope, they also combust...

They call me the sugar whisperer.

Anything your tongue desires, I can bake it. Scones? Child’s play. Cupcakes? I’ll frost 

them so good you won’t know what hit you. Donuts? Please.

You’re talking to a master baker.

But there’s one egg I’ve never been able to crack.

My best friend.

FORMER best friend, that is.

She’s the apple in my pie. The whip in my cream. The lemon in my meringue. The 

wish in my bone.

She’s the one who got away.

After ten years in the military, she’s back. She’s bruised and battered by life, but 

she’s back.

Except she’s not my second chance. She’s gone to the dark side.

Running a rival bakery in a town not big enough for two.

So now I have to decide—which do I want more?

My bakery?

Or the woman I never should’ve let go in the first place?

Master Baker is a deliciously fun friends-to-enemies-to-lovers romantic comedy featuring a smooth-talking baker, the one who got away, and a goat with more matchmaking tendencies than a nosy old grandpa. It stands alone with no cheating or cliffhangers.

Chase

I’ve just bought the woman of my nightmares.

Technically, I bought the company she works for. Point is, she cost me my two best friends ten years ago. It’s payback time, and I’m going to make her life hell.

When I’m not banging her silly and myself stupid.

I need to get my head back in business, because getting off is great, but He was a man who had sex, and lots of it, and in the worst locations, with the woman of his nightmares isn’t the inscription I want on my tombstone.

Even if it’s true.

Ambrosia

There are three things I hate:

Bratwurst in any form, my neighbors boinking loudly like farm animals at 3 AM, and Chase Jett.

Mostly I hate Chase Jett. It’s been ten years since he took my virginity—I’d make a bratwurst joke, but the unfortunate truth is that it would have to be a bratbest joke, which also pisses me off—and now he’s not only a billionaire, he’s also my new boss.

Turns out our hate is mutual. And this kind of hate is horrifically twisted, filthy, and banging hot.

I just might have to hate him forever.

Mister McHottie is 45,000 gloriously hilarious, hot, sexy words that your mother warned you about, complete with an organic happy-ever-after (or seven), a Bratwurst Wagon, ill-advised office pranks, and no cheating or cliffhangers.