Mostrando resultados por autor "Nicole Snow" en Todas las categorías

I can still pinpoint the exact second when my life became two truths and a lie. You don't forget delivering a mountain of fresh-baked sweets to a man like Dexter Rory. I never wanted to see his scowling, bossy, brutally godlike face again, no matter how well he tipped. If you told me I'd wind up wearing his ring, I would've died laughing. But here I am, trying to cling to my sanity while I confront the undeniable.

Eleanor Lark is an upbeat illustrator plagued by headaches and unruly strawberry blonde hair. After a grueling cross-country flight, she blacks out cold. The brooding stranger who sat next to her grumping his way through the flight catches Elle as she falls. Neither expects the sweet chaos that happens next. August Marshall is stonehearted, insanely rich, and a master of corporate cleanups with major baggage of his own. The last man alive who needs a media frenzy after his airport heroics steal headlines. But August has a plan—ask Elle to marry him so their trouble disappears.

Just friends? Is a peach pie to the face "just" a little mishap? I know what I felt the day Quinn Faulkner saved me from death by dessert. My best friend was always The One. The Impossible. Older. Flawless. Brutally gorgeous. A small-town prince of summer crushes. Leagues above a tag-along dance nerd like me. Years later, my uncle needs a goat wrangler. I just need an escape. What better way to flee a cheating ex and dumpster fire career? What better way to collide with the boy who got away? And now he's an atrociously hot, mysterious, overprotective beast.

My “interview” with bosshole supreme was anything but normal. He picked the worst day ever to chase me off my favorite park bench. I retaliated with a spray of cinnamon latte all over his Italian shoes. Then - for some unholy reason - Magnus Heron offered me a job.

Strange men do funny things when you score the last cinnamon roll. Sometimes he rages about the high crime of jacking his precious pastry. Sometimes he offers you ludicrous bribes to buy it back. And sometimes—after shattering your faith in humanity—you find out he's your new boss. I'm not laughing.

Grandma left me the life of my dreams with one ginormous catch. Miles flipping Cromwell. Workaholic king of grumps. Control freak. Older billionaire next door. We didn't exactly hit it off when he showed up with an offer to buy my land and my hyperactive dogs yanked my robe open right in front of him. I wish running him off my porch totally mortified was the worst part. But reopening Washington's cutest inn gets crazy expensive. When Seattle's hottest cranky-face bachelor comes knocking again, he has me cornered. This time with a high-paid job offer I can't refuse.

I'm about to go nuclear. Yet I have to smile and pretend I won't slap him into the next century. James Nobel and I have history. A man like him breaks laws with that suit and that smirk. So how could I ever forget my first? Or pelting an Adonis with crumpled love notes in class? We were young and dumb and lied about forever. Then he disappeared. Maybe I always wanted to know why, but not like this. James, my personal bodyguard. James, who still makes me crave one more night of bad decisions. Worse, we're snowed in with my very important father and his enemies.

The dirty little secret Dad left in the basement was supposed to be our salvation. Guess nobody told him you don't take cash from killers without savage consequences. Now the Grizzlies Motorcycle Club owns my sister and me. We're only alive because the rugged hulk with the piercing eyes who won't stop ordering me around says so. He saved us, but he's also an enigma I don't understand.

He knew I was trouble the instant I showed up with a stolen Bengal tiger. But Grady McKnight didn't flinch like a sane person - he took us in. Bruce the tiger found shelter. I met a hero grump. And Grady got a hot mess. Namely, me. Born-to-sizzle single dads and rogue zoologists don't play nice. So freaking what if I said I'm his nanny? We needed a story when his two sweet daughters barged in. Hiding a contraband tiger isn't easy. Neither is pretending he isn't sending my pulse to pitter-patter heaven.

From Wall Street Journal best-selling author Nicole Snow - old promises and jaw-dropping secrets collide in a small town love-storm. A punished mountain of a man retakes the girl who hasn't told him he's a dad. Surprise!

Forget the flowers and tender kisses. Tomorrow I'm marrying a man who took a bullet for me, and I don't have a choice. Did I say he's an outlaw? Asphalt has slayed more men on the road and taken more women between the sheets than I can ever count. He's arrogant and savage. So why the hell can't I keep my lips off his when he gives me that smirk and whispers filthy things in my ear?

Marshal Howard is a death wish wrapped in mystery. Cold, rude, insanely overprotective single dad. Everyone in our little town warned me to stay far, far away. I didn't listen. I answered the castoff's nanny ad because no one else would. I got too close. I saw through his vicious reputation. He's a man who's turning my heart inside out, making me a fool. If it was just the bad blood with him and my family, maybe we'd work through this. Maybe we'd find paradise. Just me, him, and that adorable little girl. But surprises come in threes. Like the lines on the pregnancy test.

Never, ever fall for your brother's hot older friend. I flunked the test the instant I laid eyes on Landon Strauss. Tall. Ripped. Commanding. Irresistibly alpha. He gave a damn like no one else did. His soul-searing eyes saw me, not just a nerd girl next door. I had my idol, my destiny, and names for our future kids picked.

Life is just full of crazy surprises with teeth. One day you're the forever-single wallflower keeping up the boring family furniture shop. The next, you're getting mouth-to-mouth from a scary hot stranger who wants to make your life a thriller novel. Yes, my disaster has a name. Micah Ainsley. Everything I'm not. Nothing remotely good for me. He's all wolf—moody, savage, and ferociously protective. I'm a human puppy. He thrives on secrets. Everybody knows what I had for breakfast. He's experienced. So experienced. I've never even been kissed.

My fresh start turned into a dumpster fire. Awesome new job. Small town heaven. Friendly faces galore. Then I strolled into my new home and found the unspeakable. Just when I'm sure it can't get worse, I'm “rescued” by a man who makes me see red for miles. Enter Lucas Graves. A bossy grump with a badge who's sworn to keep me safe. He rocks the scary-hot vibe, he reads too much, and he never misses a chance to give me crap for being a nerdy little cactus who mouths back. Not the type of man I'd go for in my right mind. Definitely not the type I should keep trading bruising kisses with.

I just ran into the girl who got away. Holding a hate letter addressed to me. And now we're stranded in an elevator. Last time we kissed, it was final. I wasn't supposed to see her again. Not in this city. On this elevator. The moment it craps out, stranding us overnight with animal cravings and fencing lies. Last time we kissed, how could we know our next might truly, madly, beautifully restore us?

It was one freaking kiss with a stranger. I wasn't looking for a hero the day Brent Eden charged into my life. He saw a damsel in distress facing humiliation. We played pretend. Swore I was his. Baited sweet chaos. Blew apart everything. My dating disaster? Gone. Our kiss? Electric. Divine. Toe-curling. His mistake? Oh, boy. Dropping the ultimate F-bomb: fiancée. Especially when my gossipy cousin tells the whole family.

My biological clock just exploded. Eighteen months. That's how long I have to make a baby happen before it becomes one more broken dream. Fate has a sick sense of humor, though. Its name is Hayden Shaw. Yes, the Hayden Shaw. Billionaire developer, scandalously gorgeous, his hard-headed ego only eclipsed by his enormous...reputation. He needs a bride to fool the world. I need a baby. It's simple business. Strictly professional.

Cora: Never kiss an outlaw, they said. Easy advice, until the day my father's dirty secrets made me property of the Deadly Pistols Motorcycle Club. Easy, until I came face-to-face with the beautiful bastard who makes me burn with every glance - Firefly.

Signing on as a company driver for Brandt Ideas felt like a dream. Big-girl salary. Stellar benefits. Glorious people - minus one. Nicholas Brandt was put on Earth to drive me insane. Of course, he's my boss man. He spent the first month mistaking me for a dude. Then he “apologized” with the grace of a drunken moose. A perfect grump with a brutal reputation. A heart-thief sculpted like a fallen angel. A master at making me question all of my life decisions. Why is it always the terrible ones who make a girl tingle?