“I’m face-down in forty glorious inches of well-endowed cake, seriously reassessing my life choices, when suddenly I hear it. The voice that launched a thousand teenage boy-band dreams. My #1 crush, Drew Delaney himself.”
 
Ten years ago, Drew was boy-band royalty: the subject of a million teenage fantasies - and the guy next door. He was so far out of my league, I couldn’t see him for stars, but now I’m back in town for our high-school reunion, guess who I run into but Mr. Right-Now himself…
 
Older. Hotter. And still sexy enough to make me forget about the glittery white frosting currently smeared across my chest.
 
Sparks are flying, and so are my panties, and soon, our trip down memory lane has taken a detour to ‘oh my god, don’t stop!’. Population: me. 
 
But can I turn Mr. Right-Now into Mr. Forever? Or will crazed fans, vicious yoga moms, and three dozen c#ck-sicles (don’t ask) doom our romance to the ‘Where are they now?’ section of MTV’s greatest hits? 
 
You’ll be begging for a taste of Lila Monroe’s new sexy, laugh-out-loud summer romance!

About the Author . . .

One week in paradise with the one man I can’t resist… 
 
Will Cassidy is hot, infuriating, and the guy behind the biggest heart-stomping humiliation of my life. He’s also hosting my BFF’s destination wedding at his super-luxe tropical resort, so short of a hurricane or outbreak of the plague (here’s hoping), I’m stuck within t̶o̶n̶g̶u̶e̶’s̶ arm's reach of him for the next seven days.
 
But I’m not a naive college girl anymore, and there’s no way I’m falling for his (many) charms again. I just have to ignore the romantic wedding shenanigans, his miraculous abs, all those intimate beach sunsets... And did I mention those abs? 
 
Maybe a wild vacation fling is exactly what I need to even the score... But between the scorching chemistry and all-inclusive margaritas, I’m getting drunk on love. Which definitely isn’t part of the plan. 
 
Can I keep my heart zipped - even if my bikini bottoms are lost somewhere on that nude beach? And how do you let go of the past when you’re holding on tight to the past’s (very ripped) torso? 
 
Find out in the sexy, hilarious new romantic comedy from Lila Monroe!

About the Author . . .

What happens when your sex strike goes viral -- and suddenly every man in town has their eye on your prize? 
 
All I wanted was little old-fashioned romance. After a parade of Tinder disasters who think chivalry is giving me a pearl necklace on the first date, I made a pledge: until guys step up their game, this girl is off the market.
 
But one bottle of chardonnay later, and my drunken rant has gone viral. I’m the most famous person NOT having sex since the Jonas Brothers put on their purity rings. A men’s magazine has even put a bounty on my (ahem) maidenhead: fifty Gs to whoever makes me break the drought. 
 
Be careful what you wish for...
 
Now my office looks like an explosion in a Hallmark factory, I’ve got guys lining up to sweep me off my feet - and the one man I want is most definitely off-limits. Jake Weston is a player through and through. He’s also the only one who sees through the mayhem to the real me, but how can I trust he’s not just out to claim the glory? 
 
And how will I make it through the strike without scratching the itch - especially when that itch looks so damn good out of his suit? 
 
The thrill of the chaste has never been so sexy in Lila Monroe’s hilarious, hot new romantic read!

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About the Author . . .

What happens when you wake up in a hotel suite next to a gorgeous naked man with absolutely no memory of the past twelve hours?

I guess it's true what they say. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

Or at least I hope it stays here. The Romantic Style convention was meant to be a weekend of raucous fun with friends, sun, and enough poolside margaritas to forget about my ex. But now, instead of meeting my fans and signing books, I'm stuck with cocky divorce lawyer Nate Wexler. He's arrogant, infuriating, and I can't keep my hands off of him. Judging by the state of our hotel room, last night was wild. I just wish I could remember it.

A pair of matching tattoos. A cheap wedding veil. Half an empty box of glow in the dark condoms. 

What the hell just happened?

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About the Author . . .