Technology complicates everything, including love. Fans who enjoy spicy, contemporary romances from authors such as Christina Lauren, Jasmine Guillory, and Sally Thorne will love the Tech-nically Love series from Michelle Dayton.

“Dayton’s follow-up to her STEM-savvy debut doesn’t disappoint, delivering a fresh premise and fully fleshed out characters whose believable problems drive their questionable decisions …Readers will be delighted.” —Publishers Weekly

“The love story is stirring and emotional, and Emily and Bobby’s second chance feels well-earned.” –Publishers Weekly

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Fans of Emily Henry will swoon for this nerdy chemistry …

Just when Tess Greene’s life is finally almost perfect, her past springs one last surprise on her. Targeted by an internet predator whose sleazy website is known for publicly humiliating women, Tess has one month to stop his ambush before her reputation is forever ruined.

As an IT disaster recovery specialist, Tess has always handled challenges on her own, but this calls for serious geek backup.

Max Hampshire, a brilliant hacker, is exactly the lifeline Tess needs. But she’s pretty sure she doesn’t need Max himself—certainly not his quick wit, sexy black-framed glasses, or all-around sweetness. The last guy who helped Tess left with his life crushed and his heart broken, so she knows that keeping her emotional distance from Max would be safer for both of them. But safety isn’t an option when love gets involved.

Previously Published as Disaster Girl.

The internet complicates everything—especially love.

Jo Harper isn’t always who men think she is. Every day she dons her psychology PhD and above-average computer skills like a super cape to right love’s wrongs. She and her team of four young women run an elite, undetectable online romance scam designed to trick married cheaters.

Jamie March, Bay Area royalty known as “The Conscience of Silicon Valley,” hates every aspect of online crime, especially those who defraud people. And when it appears that his brother is the victim of a sophisticated romance scam, he can’t stand idly by.

What’s weird, though, is that when Jo and Jamie meet, they don’t hate one another. Not at all. He makes her laugh and feel alive again. She challenges his intellect like no other. And their compatibility is off-the-charts sexy between the sheets. But enemies-to-lovers is only a fantasy.

Or is it?

Previously Published as Scammer Girl.

You can’t divorce yourself from love…

Attorney Emily Saturn needs to drown herself in work and turn off her feelings for her soon-to-be ex-husband, Bobby March.  A wave of insanity swept them into an intense whirlwind romance last fall, but the whole marriage was a mistake.

But Bobby is certain he can fix whatever has gone wrong. He’s been working on his new career and personal growth, determined to be the man his wife deserves. Confident he can get her attention, he invites Emily to a series of individually designed virtual escape rooms, each one a moment from their love story. Hopefully, the sexy, romantic trip down memory lane will spark their second chance.

Emily has never been able to resist a puzzle. Or, frankly, Bobby. The more she interacts with her husband online, the more she wants to see him again in person. Which is beyond stupid because Emily knows he’s not Mr. Right. Unless she’s wrong about everything.

Previously Published as Escape Girl.

It’s the classic holiday movie set-up, but there’s mischief behind the scenes…

Jane Zielinski plans to create her own present this Christmas. She throws herself into directing a homemade reality dating web series, Single Bells, as a publicity stunt to keep her struggling small town competitive with the ritzy resort towns luring holiday tourists. It’s the perfect way to pair up with her crush—Michael, the boy-next-door-turned-most-eligible- bachelor–and be a hometown hero.

But gorgeous Bella Bradley, Jane’s childhood BFF who skipped town when times got tough, returns with handfuls of cash and a smoking-hot business partner, Nate Wright. It’s bad enough that Bella immediately upstages Jane’s attempts to save the town’s Christmas, but she also uses the Single Bells activities to rekindle her high school romance with Michael. Furious, Jane is not above sabotage, cheating, or flirting with the mischievous Nate to win.

Maybe it’s the Christmas shenanigans, maybe it’s the holiday magic … but suddenly, Nate is a lot more than a tall, dark, handsome stranger. But is he just a mistletoe fling.

Previously Published as Grinch Girl

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Excerpt

Copyright 2024, The Love Hack by Michelle Dayton

Like a lot of other people who often have sex without an emotional connection to one’s partner, I usually dislike all the stuff that comes after orgasm. The awkward cuddling and excusing myself to pee so I don’t get a UTI and the finding a nice way (or a blunt way) to explain that a sleepover isn’t happening. I don’t like sharing a bed, and I don’t like waking up with a stranger.

I should have known that everything with Max would be different.

The orgasm left me almost catatonic for a few minutes. I was vaguely aware of Max leaving the room to get rid of the condom, and I felt the mattress dip when he got back in bed. My body felt deliciously banged around, and my brain was mushy enough that I was almost dozing. I didn’t even squeak in protest when I felt Max’s fingers caress my face.

I did, however, shriek in pain when he yanked out one of my eyelash extensions. “Ow!” I smacked his arm as hard as I could. “What is wrong with you?”

He ignored my outburst, examining the eyelash between his fingers with fascination. “Look at this beast. It’s enormous. Stop your whining—they’re not real, right? How much could it hurt?”

In another bed, with another man, I probably would lie and say they were my natural lashes. But with Max, the filter between brain and mouth was just never where it was supposed to be. “It hurts a ton, you ass,” I snapped. “They’re stuck on with medical-grade glue. It hurts ten times more for you to pull out one of those than if you pull out a normal lash.”

Finally, he looked sheepish. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” A telltale flush on his neck. “I’ve just looked at your eyes so much lately. I’ve been curious. Why do you get fake eyelashes?”

What a dumb question. “Because I’m vain, you imbecile.” I was also a strawberry blonde, which meant my own lashes needed a heavy coat of mascara to be visible. With the extensions, I woke up already looking like my eyes were done for the day and without any smudging. A solid investment, in my book.

He rolled the lash between his fingers. “It feels like a pine needle.”

I started laughing. This was the oddest post-coital conversation. “You might be the strangest person I’ve ever had sex with.”

He looked between the lash and my face, laughing along with me. “Ditto.”

He blew the lash away very deliberately. Had he made a wish? Did wishes made on false lashes count? “Lie on your stomach,” he said.

Curious, I obeyed, curling my toes over the end of the mattress. Max pulled the sheet down, exposing my bare back. “You have a tramp stamp.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

“You already knew that from the countdown picture on the Sex Ghost website.” I tried to yank the sheet back up to cover the tattoo at the base of my spine, but he wouldn’t let me.

“When did you get it?” he asked, dancing his fingers over the decorated skin.

I snorted. “When every girl gets a tramp stamp. I was eighteen.”

“Why did you choose an anchor?”

Normally, I deflected when someone asked this question. I’d say, “I just liked the design” or “I have a pirate fetish” or “I dream of sailing around the world someday.” I always found it kind of funny-sad that no one ever looked at me skeptically and commented that none of my explanations sounded like me.

Maybe that was why I didn’t lie to Max. If he hadn’t been skeptical, I would have been so disappointed. Which would have been idiotic since I’d known him for a matter of weeks.

Daniel and Kat were the only two people to whom I’d tried to explain why I’d chosen that particular image. Daniel had immediately co-opted the meaning, which I didn’t appreciate. Kat didn’t really understand, but that was my fault because my explanation to her was incomplete.

So I didn’t lie to Max. I didn’t tell the truth either though. Instead, I deftly changed the subject. I gave a dramatic sigh. “I’d like you to know that the phrase ‘tramp stamp’ was not in the common vernacular when I was eighteen. If it had been, I would not have chosen to get a tattoo on my lower back.”

I was rewarded with his laugh. His hand rubbed harder, from the base of my spine all the way up to my neck. I arched my back like a cat. I hadn’t had an unprofessional back rub in years. I meant to make a flirtatious comment, something along the lines of “You’re good with your hands.” But what actually popped out was “I like the way you touch me.”

I immediately stiffened. That sounded both goofy and way too serious. I should probably get up and go now. It was definitely time to make a graceful exit. But Max just chuckled again and lay next to me, so close that we brushed against one another from shoulder to toe.

“Good.

About Michelle Dayton

There are only three things Michelle Dayton loves more than sexy and suspenseful novels: her family, the city of Chicago, and Mr. Darcy. Michelle dreams of a year of world travel – as long as the trip would include weeks and weeks of beach time. As a bourbon lover and unabashed wine snob, Michelle thinks heaven is discussing a good book over an adult beverage.

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