This sassy romance duo have teamed up to bring you a sexy, fun and hilarious new series. You’ll love these hot-as-sin Billionaires…Down Under ;) Logan Skye. Drop-dead gorgeous and knows it, shameless playboy and confirmed bachelor, heir to a luxury hotel empire. He has everything a man could want: fast cars, faster women, more money than God. It’s all about to be taken away from him thanks to a pesky little clause in his late father’s will. That is…unless he gets married. I’m Talia Rose, heir to a stack of debts and broken dreams, hiding from my past in the land down under. I am everything except a doting fiancée: Feisty. Stubborn. And determined to hate all men. Including Logan. Especially Logan. Imagine my surprise when Logan makes me the proposal of the century. All we have to do is to fake a whirlwind courtship, fool everyone that we’re desperately in love and get married in less than thirty days. Never mind he’s the most arrogant, annoying asshole I’ve ever met. I just have to ignore the electric, hateful, lusty sparks that fly when we’re together and focus on the big fat payday that will solve all my problems. I just have to NOT fall in love. Piece of (wedding) cake. Right? If you’re not into smirky, cheeky billionaires and the sassy, independent gal he can’t help falling for, don’t read this book. If you’re not into flamboyantly fabulous bosses, outrageous won’t-take-no-for-an-answer sisters and a butler with more back-chat than shock jock radio, you definitely shouldn’t read this book. We warned you.

Rhys Carmichael. Smug billionaire a$$hole. Tanned six-pack under that Armani suit. Sexy Australian accent to boot. And my mortal enemy. I’m pretty sure he’s the reason I’m stuck dog sitting for rich people. No matter. I’m a resourceful gal. I just have to be the best dog sitter Sydney’s well-to-do have ever seen and I can get back on my feet. Besides, getting to stay in this beachside mansion for two weeks isn’t so bad, right? Just my luck, the dog I’m looking after ends up in the neighbor’s yard and I’m faced with his handsome mutt…Rhys, I mean. Not the pooch. When Rhys mistakes me for his new uber-successful neighbor, there’s no way I’m rolling over and telling his smug ass the truth. Especially when it’s clear he’s playing for keeps. And playing ruff! I just have to put on the dog and pretend to be someone I’m not. And ignore the way Rhys looks as he strides out of the surf—water dripping off his tanned muscular body. Or how his impossible bossiness seems to get me all hot and bothered. And above all, avoid getting caught out… doggy style! If you’re not into grumpy, bossy billionaires and the feisty, independent gal he can’t help falling for, don’t read this book. If you’re not into ridiculous what-have-I-gotten-myself-into scenarios, maids well-versed in blackmail and a tiny fluffy pooch that won’t quit eating (or humping) everything in sight, you definitely shouldn’t read this book. We warned you.

This sassy romance duo have teamed up to bring you a sexy, fun and hilarious series focused on Australian surfers and lifeguards. Prepare to get Wet…Down Under ;) Joel “Longboard” Slater. Internationally renowned pro-surfer. Cocky. Talented. Heartbreaker. And no, they don’t just call him “longboard” because that’s what he surfs. Ladies and gentlemen…meet Sydney’s sexiest baby daddy. And my latest assignment. Too bad he won’t give any interviews. None. Nada. Zip. But when I get mistaken for his new nanny, it’s a chance to uncover the playboy’s big secret. Starting with…who (and where) the hell is the baby mama? I’ll just have to pretend Joel isn’t the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in and out of the water—tanned muscular body, long hair bleached golden by the sun, and totally kissable, cocky-AF smirk that melts panties like ice-cream in summer. I just have to ignore the way my heart clenches at the sight of baby Jackson laying on his bare firm chest—dear God, does this man even own a shirt? I have to mute my ears to his sexy Australian accent that coos softly to his son one minute and whispers the dirtiest, filthiest promises into my ear the next. Too bad he sees my cool, professional exterior as the ultimate challenge. Too bad he’s not stopping until he gets what he wants… Me riding his, ahem… longboard. If you’re not into naughty, half-naked surfers and the smart, independent lady he can’t help falling for, don’t read this book. If you’re not into dirty surf puns, cute babies laying on bare man-chest and more poop jokes than a Farrelly brothers movie, you definitely shouldn’t read this book. For real.

Heath Sutherland. Hot Aussie surfer. Entrepreneur. Billionaire. To top it off, he volunteers as a surf lifesaver. He wasn’t always such a stud. On a beach patrol, Heath rescues Emma Hayes, his stuck-up high school nemesis. He wishes he left her (sexy) ass in the surf. But when she wakes up with amnesia, Heath decides revenge is a dish best served cold. He brings her back to his mansion, convinces her she is his live-in maid…and sets about making her do the most disgusting and dirty tasks imaginable. You know what they say about the best laid plans... This one is definitely going to end up in disaster. If you’re not into hot surfer billionaires and the feisty yet misunderstood gal who is made for him, don’t read this book. If you’re not into sexy lifeguards doing mouth-to-mouth, runaway Ferraris and an Australian platypus called Bondi with more sass than Beyonce, you definitely shouldn’t read this book.

Remember that time when you woke up naked and handcuffed to Sydney’s biggest player the day before your wedding to someone else? Yeah, well… neither do I. James Kane. Arrogant Playboy Billionaire. He eats companies for breakfast and pu$$y for dinner. My brother’s best friend. And totally off-limits. Which is why nobody knows that James and I have a wedding…situation. As in, sometime between the first dance and the cutting of the cake, we end up hate-fucking each other somewhere totally inappropriate. He’s rough, dirty and the orgasms are un-friggin-believable. But he’s a lifelong bachelor and Sydney’s biggest man-whore. And I’ve had enough of those. So when I wake up the day before my wedding with a killer hangover, handcuffed to James bloody Kane with no memory of what happened the night before and no handcuff keys in sight, I know I am so effing screwed. 24 hours to get myself unchained to this arrogant infuriating asshole. 24 until I walk down the aisle…to someone else! 24 hours for us to work together (hah!), avoid my fiancé, brother and basically the entire wedding party, and figure out… …what the hell happened last night? If you don’t like ruthless arrogant alphas and the sassy lady he wants to stay cuffed to, don’t read this book. If you’re not into flamboyantly fabulous man-of-honors, outrageous cradle-snatching Godmothers, and a chatty male stripper who owns a greedy will-eat-anything pooch named Booty, you definitely shouldn’t read this book. You have been warned.