A wedding dress passed down through generations unravels the tangled threads of three women's lives in a novel of friendship, family, and forgiveness from the USA Today bestselling author of Ten Beach Road. Prized and stored away for safekeeping, the timeless ivory wedding dress, with its scooped neck and cleverly fitted bodice, sits gently folded in its box, whispering of Happily Ever Afters. To Kendra, Brianna, and Lauren it’s a reminder of what could have been, the promise of a fairy tale, and a friendship torn apart. But as Kendra knows firsthand: it wasn’t the dress’s fault. Once closer than sisters, Lauren and Bree have grown up and grown apart, allowing broken promises and unfulfilled dreams to destroy their friendship. A successful author, Lauren returns home to the Outer Banks, fiancé in tow, to claim the dress she never thought she’d wear. While Bree, a bookstore owner, grapples with the realities of life after you marry the handsome prince. As the former best friends wrestle with their uncertain futures, they are both certain of one thing: some betrayals can never be forgiven. Now on the eve of her daughter Lauren’s wedding, Kendra struggles with a secret she’s kept for far too long. And vows to make sure the dress will finally bring Lauren and Bree back together—knowing they'll need each other to survive the coming storm.

"What's wrong, kitten? Am I getting you riled up?" he asks teasingly. I turn away from him, hoping he won't see how much he's pissing me off. He knows I hate that fucking nickname, but he hasn't stopped calling me that since we were little. "I told you to stop calling me that," I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady. "And I told you that I would never stop calling you that." I grind my molars, feeling my frustration rise. "You're such a dick. Why is that my nickname anyway?" "Because you always have your claws out, but when it's time to scratch and bite, you're practically harmless." A bitter laugh bubbles out of me as I turn back to him. "Fuck you. I could claw your damn eyes if I wanted to." "Sure, you can, Kitten," he says again, grinning just to piss me off more. "But just in case those claws don't sink deep enough, keep in mind that you can always call on me, Niko, and Mace if you're in trouble." Why does he keep saying that? I don't need them, I never have. Not even when my dad was murdered. I never let anyone see me cry and wiped my own tears in private. Just like Daddy would have wanted from his tough girl. "He's right, sweet girl. You can call us if you ever need us," Nikolai adds, emerging from the house and joining us. Mace appears right behind him. Oh, great. Here are all three dumbasses. ***** TW: ABUSE, VIOLENCE, DARK ROMANCE, DADDY KINK. THERE WILL BE MM, MF, and MFMM sex At twenty-three, Alyssa Bennett returns to her small hometown, fleeing her abusive husband with their seven-month-old daughter, Zuri. Unable to contact her brother, she reluctantly turns to his asshole best friends for help-despite their history of tormenting her. King, the enforcer of her brother's motorcycle gang, the Crimson Reapers, is intent on breaking her. Nikolai aims to claim her for himself, and Mason, ever the follower, is just glad to be part of the action. As Alyssa navigates the dangerous dynamics of her brother's friends, she must find a way to protect herself and Zuri, all while discovering dark secrets that could change everything.

This Christmas, my husband is going with an unconventional gift for his best friend. Me. It’s only supposed to be for one night… But one night becomes two, becomes our entire vacation. There are no rules except the ones we make, and sharing me brings both Derek and Grayson closer than any of us could have imagined. This year, what happens in our bedroom will put all three of us on Santa’s Naughty List. *Sword-cross guarantee* In Gifting Me to His Best Friend, you’ll find: - Snowed in - MMF Romance - Christmas story - Friends to Lovers - Sword-cross guarantee

Take my advice. Never fall for your brother's best friend.Bracken Casey.Our hometown's playboy.My brother's best friend.The man I love.He doesn't do girlfriends.He doesn't do commitments.And he doesn't see me as anything more than his best friend's little sister.Until one night changes everything.A drunken kiss leads to a drunken screw.Now he can't keep his hands off of me, and I can't say no.Rules are set: No one can find out.It can't lead anywhere.But rules were always meant to be broken.And that's exactly what we are doing.Breaking them all. Something bad is bound to happen

This one's for you, extraordinary ordinary women everywhere It's time for seriously hilarious girl-talk with New York Times bestselling author Lisa Scottoline. She's shared this collection of scenes from her real life, and she bets her life sounds a lot like yours . . . if you crave carbs, can't find jeans that fit, and still believe that these two things are unrelated. Pick up this book--you'll laugh, you'll cry, and you'll swear off pantyhose. Here are some examples of Lisa's wit and wisdom: "Everybody has their pornography, and mine is the real estate ads." "We'll get universal health care before we get beauty salons open on Mondays, and that's backwards. Ask any woman if she'd rather have a haircut or a mammogram, and you'll see what I mean." "Mothers are a natural force, and maybe an alternative source of fuel." "Lately there's been talk about a religion that allows polygamy, so that a man can have as many wives as he pleases. Where is the religion that allows a woman to have as many husbands as she pleases?" "I have never been in an accident, if you don't count my two marriages." "My mother taught us that if you eat baked beans from a can that has dents, you'll die of botulism. This was before people injected botulism into their faces. Nowadays, the dented can will kill you, but you'll look young." Inspired by her wildly popular column in The Philadelphia Inquirer entitled "Chick Wit," Why My Third Husband Will Be a Dog is a book you'll have to put down--just to stop laughing.

What is real, lasting happiness? How does one achieve it? And why are so many people holding themselves back? At the heart of this profound, simple, beautiful book is the wisdom of Mildred Newman and Bernard Berkowitz, married psychoanalysts who encourage readers to both love themselves and to confront life’s hardest truths. A classic for more than three decades, How to Be Your Own Best Friend has already changed millions of lives. Now, open up your mind, and let it change yours. Praise for How to Be Your Own Best Friend “I want to tell you that it’s magic, but the whole point of the book is that there is no magic. So instead let me simply say that I can’t live without it.”—Nora Ephron “A wonderful prescription for the blahs . . . an antidote to weariness, discouragement or loneliness.”—Los Angeles Times “What the Berkowitzes unearthed . . . is a too-often-forgotten form of human intercourse called getting to know me.”—Chicago Tribune “A kind of psychiatric pep talk . . . directed at people who [are] learning how to operate themselves.”—The New York Times “Seductively jargon-free, presented in neat question-and-answer format.”—Houston Chronicle

Warning: this collection contains 5 sexy age gap instalove romance short stories featuring young women and their determined alpha males! Includes An Offer from My Dad's Creditor, Knocked Up by the Tycoon, Caught by the College President, Wanted by My Fake Boyfriend's Dad, and An Offer from the CEO! An Offer from My Dad's Creditor "Lucky for you and your parents, I'm benevolent enough to offer an alternative method of payment," he says. From the lust in his gray gaze, I have a pretty good idea what the "alternative method of payment" is, but I ask anyway, "What do you want, Mr. Ricci?" "I want you to carry my child." His words make me lightheaded. Today was not a good day to skip dinner. "Um, what?" I ask, my legs trembling with the struggle to stay upright. Maybe I heard him wrong. No such luck. "I want you to carry my child, Paisley." Knocked Up by the Tycoon My breath stops for a moment. Is that…? I shake my head before I can finish the thought. Pregnancy has to be making me hear things. Because there's no way– "Alexa, look at me." My eyes bulge out of their sockets when a big familiar hand grabs my small one. Okay, I don't think my pregnancy brain can make that up. My imagination is not that vivid. I turn around, and my breath halts for yet another moment. Standing in front of me is Dallas Takahashi, my ex-boyfriend. And the father of the baby growing inside me. Caught by the College President I suck in a breath when my college president wraps his arms around me and pulls me onto his lap. "I…I have a boyfriend," I say, my voice coming out annoyingly breathy. He chuckles. "Oh, yes, your boyfriend, who seems like a real prize." He tugs at my blanket, exposing my bare shoulder. When he lowers his head and presses his mouth to my shoulder, I become breathless. Wanted by My Fake Boyfriend's Dad At the sight of Mike's father, I have to actively keep my jaw off the ground. One thing my friend neglected to tell me–his father is sexy. Mike's not a bad-looking guy either, but he got his golden hair and hazel eyes from his mother. Mr. Currant, on the other hand, has dark chocolate waves and intense gray eyes. Tall, dark, and handsome–just my type. An Offer from the CEO His face becomes serious. "I know your family has a lot of debt, Charity." I stiffen. Does a CEO normally concern himself with the financial troubles of a lowly office assistant? "There are your mother's unpaid hospital bills, your father's unwise loan to his brother, your own brother's gambling…" My grip tightens on my bottled water. How does he know all of that? "I'll take care of that debt," Adam says. I catch my breath. Chance Enterprises is a multi-billion dollar company, so I know he has the means to pay off my family's mountain of debt. "Why would you do that?" I ask. Then I remember that Mr. Chance is known for his philanthropy. Does he see me as a pitiful charity case? Is that why he has been so nice to me? "Because I want something in exchange." "What do you…?" I get my answer when he strokes the hem of my black pencil skirt.