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I have trouble saying no.
To shoes, handbags, the dessert tray…you name it.
But when I agreed to a plan last-minute engagement bash for a spoiled Mafia princess, I had no idea she’d demand that my sexy ex cater it. He’ll agree to work for me, but only if I agree to spend a weekend with him.
Did I mention my weakness for a**holes with tattoos?
I’m totally forked.
"Melanie Harlow's sassy, sweet, and oh, so sexy Frenched series stands out in the romantic comedy genre. You're certain to fall in love along with each of her perfectly flawed characters."
"With a story that is addictive, pacing that is perfection, and sexual chemistry that is thrilling, Forked is the perfect way to spend a lazy afternoon." -- Fan Girl Book Blog
Going to Paris alone.
Falling for Lucas (he was so not on my list).
We’ve done the long-distance-love thing for eight months now, and I’m ready for more. But after I discover what he’s been hiding, will he stay on my list? Or should I cross him off for good?
My new neighbor is a firefighter--and a scorching hot single dad--but I swear I didn’t set off that smoke alarm on purpose.
(And I was beyond mortified when he rushed in and saw me naked.)
Nothing happened, of course--because I, Winnie MacAllister, romance junkie and owner of a constantly broken heart, have sworn off men for one solid year.
Even protective men with chiseled jaws, bulging biceps, and deep brown eyes that make my breath come faster. Even former SEALs with broad chests and strong hands that make my skin sizzle. Even gorgeous, grumpy guys who have their hands full raising two adorable little girls and claim they don’t believe in love.
Until Dex kisses me one night, and I drop all my defenses.
(Also my underwear.)
He says he’s not gentle, and he’s right. He says I should take the dream job I’m offered in another state, and he’s right. He says he’s too old for me and could never be the man I deserve.
Dex and I might be twelve years apart, but the fire between us is the kind that will never burn out.
How can I convince him to give happily-ever-after with me a chance?
I’m a full-time single dad to three daughters and CFO at Cloverleigh Farms. I don’t have time to fall in love—I’m too busy trying to run a business, keep the red socks out of the white laundry, and get the damn pillowcases on without owing a dollar to the swear jar.
Sure, Frannie Sawyer is beautiful and sweet, but she’s twenty-seven, the boss’s daughter, and my new part-time nanny—which means she’s completely off-limits. It’s bad enough I can’t stop fantasizing about her, what kind of jerk would I be if I acted on the impulse to kiss her?
(Exactly the kind of jerk you’re thinking.)
Actually, I’m worse than that—because I didn’t stop with a kiss, and now I can’t stay away. She makes me feel like myself again. She reminds me what it’s like to want something just for me. She’s everything I ever needed, but nothing I ever imagined.
I’m a former Marine. I should have had the strength to resist her from the start.
But I didn’t. And now I have to choose between the life I want and the life she deserves.
Even if it means giving her up.
Il ne croyait plus en l'amour.
Margot a besoin de changer d'air. Elle vient de se séparer de son ex qui s'est révélé être un pauvre type opportuniste, tout cela très publiquement devant toute le gratin de Detroit.
Cela tombe bien, la société de communication où elle travaille doit s'occuper d'un client hors de la ville.
Quoi de mieux qu'un séjour loin de son quotidien, au bord du lac Huron, dans une ferme qui a besoin de donner un coup de jeune à son image ?
Mais, elle ne s'attendait pas forcément à rencontrer un homme comme Jack, un des propriétaires de la ferme.
Renfermé, agressif, il n'est toujours pas remis du décès de son épouse et déteste l'idée qu'une jeune femme de la ville vienne se mêler de leurs affaires.
Mais sa vivacité et son charme sont en train de percer la carapace que le deuil a créée autour de son coeur.
Elle n'est que de passage, elle ne connaît rien à son quotidien mais il pourrait lui apprendre à vivre auprès de lui.
OK, fine. I’ll confess.
While my house was being robbed, I was in the shower indulging my favorite Brad Pitt fantasy (the one with the Troy costume and the handcuffs.)
But where is the justice in the world when the first cop on the scene is the former bully next door? How dare that arrogant jerk grow up to be six-foot-three inches of solid muscle with gorgeous blue eyes!
I can’t stop thinking about him. Or his handcuffs. Or his dirty mouth. Or the way he still likes to boss me around these days, only with a lot less clothing.
(Another confession—I like it now, too.)
But we’re totally wrong for each other…aren’t we?
"Floored embodies what a lighthearted read is supposed to be. It is the perfect blend of humor, sex, and heart. I absolutely loved it." -- Claire Contreras, NYT Bestselling Author of Kaleidoscope Hearts
Une liaison à durée indéterminée ?
Quoi de plus désagréable que de se voir attribuer une place à la table des célibataires lors d'un mariage ?
Claire a décidé que, cette fois, elle éviterait cette situation pénible lors du mariage d'une amie.
Il faut juste qu'un homme l'accompagne. Pas n'importe qui. Un homme beau, disponible, qui fera baver d'admiration toutes les autres invitées. Claire n'a pas l'habitude de mentir mais pour une fois...
Elle va alors louer les services d'un escort pour la soirée.
Theo dépasse toutes ses espérances et lui donne envie de plus. Beaucoup plus.
Mais que se cache-t-il derrière le masque séduisant et décontracté de Theo ? Il a son lot de problèmes à régler et il n'a pas tout dit à
Claire, qui n'aime pas beaucoup les secrets.
S'il veut vraiment que Claire lui appartienne, il devra s'ouvrir à elle.
I’m a mechanic, not a hotel manager. I've got enough on my plate trying to keep my shop from going under, my overbearing mother off my back, and my baseball team in contention for the league championship. I don’t have time for a former debutante with zero street smarts and a cash flow problem, even if she is crazy beautiful.
Problem is, she’s stranded in my small town, and I’m hiding a protective streak underneath my broody exterior that runs deep. So I offer her a place to stay and keep my hands to myself.
For exactly one night.
If only she weren't so gorgeous. So funny. So eager to please. She’s a disaster behind the wheel, but she drives me wild without even trying--at work, at home, in the back of my truck . . . I can’t get enough of the way she makes me feel.
But I know better than to think it can last. She wants a fairy tale, and I’m no prince.
So when it comes time for her to leave, there’s nothing I can do but let her go.
No matter how much it hurts to say goodbye.
As a divorce attorney, he loves to tell me there’s no such thing.
As a wedding planner, I choose to disagree.
We disagree on almost everything, in fact. Everything except James Bond. The only time we really get along is when we’re watching 007 flicks together, and I’ll admit—he has rescued me from a disaster or five. So when one of the baton twirlers from his parade leaves a baby girl at his door with a note that says “I’ll come back for her” and he begs me for help, I can’t turn him down.
But it’s a mistake.
Because watching him with his daughter, I start to see another side of Nate, a side that has my breath coming faster, my body craving his, my heart longing for him to change his mind about love and tell me there’s a chance for us.
I don’t want to be just another girl leaving his apartment in the morning.
I want to be the one he asks to stay.
It had to be, right?
Because Noah McCormick and I have never been anything more than friends. In all the years I’ve known him, he’s never once laid a finger on me. And even though he was a cute lifeguard at 16 and a hotter-than-hell sheriff’s deputy at 34, he's always been that protective guy I could trust to keep his hands to himself. I never wanted to mess with that.
Until I walked in on him getting out of the shower and saw his hard, muscular body totally bare and dripping wet. At that moment I never wanted to mess with anything so badly in my entire life.
I should have covered my eyes. Said I was sorry. At the very least, I could have handed him a towel.
After all, I was only in town for a few days, and he was just doing me a favor by escorting me to my sister’s wedding. It wasn’t a real date.
But I didn’t apologize. And he didn’t cover up.
(Talk about a hot mess.)
After all those years of being just friends, suddenly we’re insatiable.
He’s made it clear he’s not interested in romance. Which is fine with me because
I’ve got a plane ticket back to my real life at the end of the week.
It’s all in fun...or is it?