From No to O + 8 More Sexy Reverse Harem Romances

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "Will make you laugh out loud and sizzle your e-reader." - Amazon Reviewer
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "A fun ride full of heat, fun banter, and steamy scenes!" - Amazon Reviewer

☑️ My Cowboy Trouble
☑️ My Cowboy Chaos
☑️ My Cowboy Desires
☑️ From No to O
☑️ From Jerk to Perk
☑️ From Hate to Date
☑️ A Naughty Lesson
☑️ A Sinful Classroom
☑️ A Wicked Education

From No to O
Wanted: just one guy who understands that the Big O is not just another letter in the alphabet.
I may have a “Sex & Love” advice column, but I also have a big, scandalous secret.
I’ve never, actually, had my own Big O.
Not even close. And DIY ain’t cutting it.
My readers think I have it all: glamour, brains, and an enviable sex life.
But behind my fancy words, I live in fear of being found out.
Losing it all… without a happy ending.

From Jerk to Perk
I have three weeks to convince a grumpy, brooding heartthrob to publish his secret romance novel.
Or I lose my job.
When I discover an anonymous manuscript sizzling with a romance so hot it keeps me up at night, I realize I've found the ticket to saving my janky career.
I just have to figure out who penned these smutty scenes.
I imagine a chiseled, enigmatic writer, just waiting for me to reveal his mad skills to romance fans everywhere.
And who do I end up finding?
The literary world's brooding heartthrob. Not to mention grump. And his partners in crime.
All dudes who couldn’t be bothered with a little romance publisher like me.
But I either publish this thing… or lose my job.
So I work it hard, and wouldn’t you know that with each sexy meeting, the steamy words get closer to jumping off the page… and into my bedroom.

From Hate to Date
When three gorgeous chefs decide they want to expand their restaurant right into my boutique next door, things start to heat up.
In more ways than one.
With big dreams and bigger egos, three sinfully handsome restaurant owners are out to grow their culinary empire.
Problem is, my little pet store is right in their way.
But I’m not going down without a fight.
I don't care how hot they are.
Or how they look at me with hungry eyes.

A Naughty Lesson
A sexy English professor. A virgin coed. An essay about a personal subject.
A very personal subject.
It started with a simple assignment: What would you like to change about yourself?
So I write about my V-card. The one I can’t seem to get rid of.
That’s right. I pen an essay about being a virgin.
Seemed like a great idea at the time. A walk in the park.
Now, not so much.
Because the park I’m walking in is full of hungry bears. And I’m wearing a delicious honey suit.
My professor, who used to look at me like any other student, now does with newly minted interest.
He’s determined to teach me a… lesson.
A naughty one.
And he’s not flying solo on this steamy mission.
His hot professor buddies join in too, dedicated to ensuring I get the education I need.
As well as…
Filling…my needs.
Satisfying my thirst for…knowledge.
Making sure I become an expert in deep…thinking.
Seems I’m always learning things the hard…way.
This time is no different.
Except I’m earning an A+ in what’s become my very favorite subject.

A Sinful Classroom
One broke college girl. Three hot professors. An offer she can’t refuse.
I’ve got more brains than bucks.
And am moments from saying goodbye to college.
Can three sexy professors help turn my situation around?
I’m out of money.
Tuition bills are looming.
Working as a hotel maid is all fine and good.
But I’m still broke as f*ck and Dad’s going to prison for embezzlement is not helping.
Enter, a kindly professor, who also happens to be walking sex on a stick.
He offers me a job. Even his buddies are eager to help a nice girl like me.
I can’t turn him—or his sexy friends—down.
They want to teach me…naughty things.
Expose me to…everything they have to offer.
Make sure I learn the hard…way.
I’ll do anything to stay in college.
Even if it means doing my professors.

A Wicked Education
Alluring athletes. Intellectual bookworms. Unconventional free spirits.
The dating options are nearly endless.
And yet, none of these “boys” hold my interest for longer than it takes to suck down a cold beer at a hot summer frat party.
Fortunately, among these campus men, a few figures stand apart.
My professors.
Their smart- sexy maturity makes the college boys around me pale in comparison.
And I quickly learn the intentions of these men are not limited to growing my intellectual knowledge.
No, they propose an alternative type of education, one that dives into a realm of desire and sensuality. And hot study sessions.
The kind that is not available in any textbook or lecture.
They give me a wicked education…in lust.
They teach me…a thing or two in the sack.
They ensure I’m at the head…of my class.
But the most important thing is to remain a straight A student.
Even though they're sure to grade me very...hard.

My Cowboy Trouble
Three cowboys. One ranch. Zero chill.
I came here for thirty days, some cute cowboy boots, and a fat inheritance. Easy money, right?
Except I didn’t plan on three cowboys with broad shoulders, sinful smirks, and way too much attitude.
One’s grumpy, one’s cocky, and one’s steady as stone. Together, they’re temptation in worn jeans and boots—and they can’t seem to decide if they want to drive me off the land… or drive me wild.

My Cowboy Chaos
They’re enemy territory—off-limits, untouchable, strictly forbidden.
Which would be easier to remember if one didn’t scowl like I just insulted his horse,
another didn’t smirk and call me trouble like he’s dying to prove it,
and the third didn’t keep dragging me into the kind of mischief that feels way too good to resist.
Our families have been at war for decades over chili ribbons, potato salad, and a bull with no boundaries.
So yeah, sneaking across fences, kissing them breathless, and letting three rival cowboys ruin me six ways to Sunday? Worst. Idea. Ever.
Forbidden? Absolutely.
Worth it? You have no idea.

My Cowboy Desires
Suddenly “hard labor” doesn’t sound so bad.
Cowboys. Everywhere I look.
Big hands. Broad shoulders. Dirty smirks.
And somehow I ended up with not one, not two, but three of them—thanks to the judge who decided a little community service would make me respectable.
Good luck with that.
I swear I’ll do the bare minimum, keep my head down, and get through this. But between mud-soaked chores, stolen kisses, and nights that get way too hot under the stars? Resisting them isn’t just hard—it’s impossible.
I was told this would be punishment.
Instead, it’s barn loft hook-ups… and a pig with a real talent for cock-blocking.
So call me reckless. Call me out of control.
I call it the best mistake I’ve ever made.

“I told you not to look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Ryder asked, voice low.

“Like you’re thinking something filthy.”
“
Sweetheart,” he said, “I’m always thinking something filthy.”

FROM NO TO O
AVA
I let myself into my apartment with a sigh of relief at having the place quiet and to myself. It’s a sizeable two-bedroom, hard if not impossible to come by in Manhattan. But thanks to Aunt Dede, who made it clear when I first moved here that she didn’t house New York ingenues, I was quickly dropped into this great apartment after she enlisted the help of her far-reaching tangle of connections. And because she is so proud to have set me up in such a nice pad and loves to remind the family of her acumen and largesse, she strong-armed me into letting my older brother Andy’s friend Jasper Russo crash here while he’s getting himself set up in the city.
I needed to ‘share my good fortune,’ as she put it.
The truth is, I don’t really mind having a roommate that much, even if Andy’s buddy is someone I’d never be friends with. We’re cordial and all but have our own lives. It’s just nice to have someone to split expenses with. But would I live with one of my brother’s friends from college if I had the choice, a dude-bro if ever there was one?
Not really. And in the end, I had very little say about it.
Jasper is a nice enough guy. Just not my cup of tea.
Andy even helped Jasper line up a job. Actually, he didn’t help him as much as the ever-connected Aunt Dede, who knows all the higher-ups at Bonded Crest. She got Jasper an interview at Sports Incorporated, just like she got me one at Glisten.
I love that she likes to help people, but hell, this Jasper guy isn’t even family. So, thanks to her, I not only see him at home, I also occasionally run into him in the elevator at work.
But he’s out tonight like he is most nights, which means I can chill and think through my predicament. Before I do, I turn on an old Sex and the City rerun, always guaranteed to help me clear my mind. Just as the opening credits have Carrie twirling around in her pink tutu, from outside my window comes the familiar roar of a motorcycle.
Damn.
Yes, Jasper the dude-bro brought his motorcycle to New York, and uses it—successfully, I might add—as a chick magnet. I turn up the TV to drown out the noise of his bike, and even when he’s shut it off and I hear the downstairs door slam and him run up the steps to our place, I don’t turn it back down.
Let him listen to Samantha drone on about her latest conquest, something about rotten-tasting semen. See if I care.
“Ava!” he calls, rushing inside. “Didn’t think you’d be home so early.”
Thanks for pointing out you have a better social life than I do.
And it’s even more evident when a willowy brunette follows him in the apartment.
Great. Just great.
“Hey,” he says, gesturing at his date, “this is my roommate, Ava. My best friend’s sister.”
“Hi,” she says to me with a bored wave.
Without responding, I turn back to the TV, where Samantha continues to complain about ‘funky spunk.’ Jasper and his date are unfazed. They leave their helmets on the table by the door—where I’ve asked him not to—and head for his bedroom.
In the few months he’s been living with me, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him come home with the same woman twice. Actually, I can’t be sure about that, since the women he goes for all basically look the same.
His date-night-return-home was always a precursor to an evening where I could count on getting little sleep, kept awake by his amorous love life, filtering through the walls separating our rooms.
Just like his motorcycle, Jasper lives life at full throttle with an unapologetic appetite for good times and pretty women. There’s nothing discreet, subtle, or reserved about him.
Next morning, the blinding morning sun wakes me, leaving me with burning eyes and a parched throat. I stumble out to the kitchen for a glass of water and run smack into Jasper—date nowhere to be seen—cheerfully chugging his green smoothie before he hits the streets for his morning run.
I guess if you work for a sports magazine, you have to be athletic.
I take a deep breath, determined to address what ails me, when he grins sheepishly. Which I wish he wouldn’t do because, dammit, he’s fucking adorable at six-foot-three-ish with thick black bed-head hair and piercing blue eyes so brilliant they can’t even be hidden behind his thick-framed glasses, the momentary fashion rage among Manhattan men.
God help me.
“Hey, Jas, last night—”
He takes a step closer to me and his eyes twinkle, damn him. “Whoa. Are you jealous, Ava?”
Huh? What? Jealous?
Is he kidding?
I’m at a momentary loss for words. I mean, I expect some push back when I let him know I’m not happy about being kept awake until the early hours by his dalliances, but is he flirting?
With me?
He seems the flirtatious type, no doubt. My brother’s friends are all lady-killer sorts of guys, men who make a profession out of getting into the pants of attractive women. But until now, I’ve never been the target of their charm, especially Jasper’s. When we do interact, which is not often, he usually rubs my head and calls me kiddo, as if he’s an extension of Andy.
And for fuck’s sake, this is not about jealousy.
But his effortless approach to life does intrigue me. I can’t lie. The lightness of his being is enviable, confounded by my own inability to really let loose.
He places a hand on my shoulder, bare except for my sleep tank, and tilts his head. “You’re too pretty to be jealous.”
He finishes the last of his smoothie, winks, and leaves me standing there like a starving lion in front of a meat buffet.
As the door clicks shut behind him, I realize everything is within my reach. Everything I want, I can have. And the gap between my double lives—one where I’m the confident sex columnist and the other where I’m a sexual incompetent—can be closed quickly and quietly. The drive to understand the ‘big deal about sex’ just took a dramatic, personal turn. Why isn’t the woman orgasming under my roof until the wee hours of the morning me?
Why not me?
I’m not fighting for a column in Glisten, I’m fighting for myself.
* * *

Age Gap
Enemies to Lovers
Brother’s Best Friend
Grumpy Boss
Forced Proximity
Forbidden Love
Endless Spice
Laugh Out Loud Moments
Reverse Harem

So, you’ve heard whispers about this thing called Why Choose and you're wondering what the hell it is. Buckle up, babe.

Why Choose romance (also known as reverse harem) is where the heroine doesn’t pick between the hot billionaire, the tattooed bad boy, or the sensitive artist—she keeps all of them. Yep. One woman. Multiple love interests. No drama about who’s The One. Because why suffer through heartbreak when you can have a whole damn buffet?

In Why Choose, the heroine is front and center. She's adored, worshipped, protected—and yeah, probably ruined in the best possible way—by a crew of men who are usually wildly different from each other but all obsessed with her. Think about it this way: possessive, dirty-talking alpha types, emotionally available cinnamon rolls, enemies who eventually join the team... you get the picture.

It's steamy romance on steroids. And trust me, it’s not about being indecisive—it’s about being indulgent. You want jealous outbursts, group tension, angsty slow burns, and seriously NSFW scenes that might short-circuit your e-reader? Welcome to the club.

I’m Mika Lane, and this is kind of my thing. I write the sexy stuff your mother warned you about—only with more plot twists and hotter men per chapter. From rockers to brooding professors to daddy’s best friends, my heroines always get the best of all worlds.

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