Showing results by author "Nicole Snow" in All Categories

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.

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.

Summer: I didn't have an outlaw's baby. Honest. I didn't run, didn't hide our son, didn't suffer alone. There's not a bastard with a gun to my head, sending me running to the bad boy I left behind. Making me lie to everyone. Yeah, I'm full of it. Here's the truth - I'm frozen because I'm finally face-to-face with the wild, gorgeous man with the icy stare who lit me on fire three summers ago. Joker rocked me to my core, left me with a kid, and it's just a matter of time until he discovers everything.

Bossy. Heart of stone. Snarly mess next door. Send help before I'm prick-matized.... My next big mistake has a name. Warren Ford. Best kept secret in this weird little town. An alpha's alpha. Spartan abs. Too blunt for everybody's good. Moody, broody, mysterious, and totally up in my business.

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.

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.

How did I get here? Oh, right - Daniel "Dust" Grayson. Scariest, sexiest man alive. The only man who's ever stolen my panties, lured me into his bed, and left me begging for more. This isn't what you're thinking. Yes, he's an outlaw. But I'm not in a world of hurt because he's president of the Deadly Pistols MC or because my big brother is his right-hand man. No, Dust tried to save me from myself. I can't let my secrets kill him.

I've got small-town problems aplenty and zero time for Paxton “Alaska” Charter. Crushing on smoke-show men with caveman vibes can't end well. Sure, he saved my little coffee shop from total ruin once. Yes, my ovaries melt watching single dad of the century with his little boy. Of course, I'd sleep like a baby if I let him work his former SEAL hero magic on my mess. That's not why I'm freaking out. Nobody told me how devastatingly kind Alaska can be. Or the fact that his stubborn heart's even more guarded than mine.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Holt's as stubborn as a bull. He's also hiding a rough-and-tumble country boy behind that big-city suit. Everything flips upside down the day he says he'll help save my land. Lucky me. I can't let anybody uncover the secret on my property. Not even gorgeous stallions turning "I hate you" into "What are we doing?". The way Holt kisses proves he's no white knight. Do I dare let a dark knight in?

Pinch me. I can't believe I'm working under him. Dr. Gray Caldwell. Hottest, swooniest, stormiest bachelor ever. Insanely tall. Unfair perfection. Intimidating abs and X-ray glares. Doc puts the animal back in veterinarian. My dream job should be all puppies and kittens. Turns out, my new boss hates three things: 1. Small town drama. Baby, we've got tons. 2. Pets in distress - and he's their hero every time. 3. Anybody poking around his past. Like me. Oh, crud. But how could I resist the best mystery in Heart's Edge?

Waking up next to the world's hottest stranger is my first red flag. The huge rock on my finger? Hint number two I'm head-over-heels in trouble. I'm hair-on-fire freaked by the marriage certificate. Then I sit down with Noah Bernard, my mysterious new "husband." He talks a good game. Easy, when he'd put Hercules to shame. Olympian abs. Defiant growl. Come-to-mama eyes. Mammoth freaking ego. I almost wish I remembered our honeymoon. But I need answers. Not more secrets.

My brother's best friend owned my heart until the day he drenched it in kerosene and burned it down. Grant flipping Faircross is so not the reason I'm coming home. I don't care if he's gotten bigger, meaner, and grumpy enough to flash freeze the sun. So what if he's up in my business the second I arrive? I'm smarter now. I'm only back in Redhaven for my sick mother and to talk some sense into my sister before she marries a toad.

His proposal came in a little black envelope with 13 unlucky words: You still owe me that favor, doll, and I'm cashing in. Marry me. In a normal life, I'd never get hitched to Calvin Randolph. Not with his heart-stopping blue eyes, infamous player reputation, and an ego bigger than the part of his anatomy he loves boasting about the most. Been there, done that. All except the last part, which he's left to my shameful imagination for seven years apart. Of course, the fake fiancée contract I just signed is anything but normal.