Showing results for "BANG BANG" in Contemporary

It was supposed to be an easy house- and dog-sitting gig while the owner was gone for a month. But when my sportsing landlord comes home unexpectedly, injured and in need of a new arrangement, we end up as accidental roommates instead. But if Holt Webster, the tall, thick-muscled, square-jawed, broody-eyed rugby player, had told me he played for the Copper Valley Pounders, I would’ve told him that my stepdad bought the team while I was working cruise ships overseas.

Shy paleontologist Thea Pope just wants to get through her sister’s '80s-themed monstrosity of a TV reality-show wedding so she can get to her summer field work. The only problem? Her sister has turned into the ultimate bridezilla—as in pink parasols, organza hats, forcing people to shave and dye their hair levels of over-the-top, it’s-my-day antics—all while on location in a place literally called hell that reeks of sulfur and lost hopes.

Chasing my pro hockey dreams in the City of Angels has been a relentless battle. Each season feels like starting over, and being miles away from my family only adds to the struggle. I don't know what I would do without my online gaming friends. Especially @EmpressHollywood. I know nothing about her—not even her real name—but what I do know with certainty is that our chats are my lifeline. I wish she would let me in, but she guards her secrets even more closely than I do.

Lachlan Downy was a lover, not a fighter. Okay, he wouldn't lie, he was a fighter, too. But nobody had to know that. Especially not Memphis Tennessee Conner and her stuffy attitude when it came to cops and "men like him". Memphis knew cops. Her daddy was a cop. He was also the president of a motorcycle club. Needless to say, he's about as alpha as they come, and she's tired of overbearing men who think they know how to run her life better than she does.

He was my best friend...until he became my enemy, all within the span of one night. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. The rapid fire of gunshots became the soundtrack to my life. This is the Mafia. Lines are blurred. Choices are never black and white. And the life you thought you knew is one giant lie. He was dead. I didn't want his life to be in vain, so I tried to make something of myself. Tried and failed. Now he's back. Alive. And he wants me. Nobody ever said the Mafia played fair.

There are a million reasons why I shouldn’t date Fletcher Huxley. He’s a growly-faced, stubborn-streaked, international rugby legend trying to revive his flailing career in the US after being canned by his team overseas. While he might have the good kind of thunder thighs, intriguing tattoos, and a booty of steel, he also holds the top position on my very short nemesis list thanks to what happened the first time we met.

I didn’t know bridesmaid was code for babysitter for the bride’s brother, but if that’s what my best friend needs of me for her dream wedding to go off without a hitch, that’s what I’ll do. Even if Theo Monroe has been a pain in my rear since third grade. Even if he should be responsible enough to not wreak havoc at his sister’s destination wedding.

He's the last man I should've picked for a one night stand. See that guy over there? The insanely tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, scowling, “I don’t drink coffee” suit? Surprise! He’s the new owner of my family’s mountain café.

Large and in charge? Honey, I'm the biggest, baddest, mother pucking-est machine to ever own the ice. I shoot. I score. In and out of the rink. I don't come early, but I come often, if you know what I mean. And I always leave the ladies wanting more. Until that chick last night. I'm no one-thrust wonder, and you're damn right I'm going to prove to her I can do better. But every time I think I'm finally on my way back into her pants, she one-ups and out-balls me. I should cut my losses, lick my wounds, and walk away. But Zeus Berger doesn't walk away from anything.

Mister McHottie is the hilariously sexy prequel to the Copper Valley Thrusters series, where you’ll first meet the twin tank hockey players who inspired the next books. It comes complete with an organic happy-ever-after (or seven), a Bratwurst Wagon, ill-advised office pranks between a billionaire boss and the woman he tormented as a child, and no cheating or cliffhangers.

Envy is a silent, cold-blooded killer, extinguishing a little more life from me every day. Hitting sharp, fast and seemingly out of nowhere; struck by lightning, not a storm cloud in sight...in she rolls. Reece Kelly, a force to be reckoned with, head of the class, which means one thing - she's out of mine. "You're wasting your time, Rhett Foster. Locks have keys, and walls can be climbed. I'm not buying your broody, skeptical act for one minute." And then there's that...

Call it superstition, but when a guy bats as hot as Brooks Elliott, you don’t mess with what’s working. And what’s working is him keeping his pants zipped and doing all of his scoring on the field. So when I hear he’s planning to ditch his V-card now that he’s been traded to baseball’s lovable losers - a.k.a. my home team and my reason for living every March through October - I do what any rational, dedicated, obsessed fan would do. I make a plan to stop him. But the thing about stopping him is that it requires spending time with him. Lots. And lots. And lots of time.

Anything your tongue desires, I can bake it. Scones? Child's play. Cupcakes? I'll frost them so good you won't know what hit you. Donuts? Please! You're talking to a master baker. But there's one egg I've never been able to crack. My best friend. Correction: my former best friend. She's the apple in my pie. The whip in my cream. The lemon in my meringue. The wish in my bone. She's the one who got away.

All Nick Norton wants is to stay on the straight and narrow…and never get caught stealing again. Then he lays eyes on her: Stella Peretti—100 percent sexy and absolutely irresistible. Especially when he sees her smooth moves lifting a two-karat diamond. Nick realizes he’s found the sparkling woman of his dreams—one so perfect for him it’s almost criminal. The Shimmy Shimmy Bangs are master jewel thieves who are planning the heist of the century. And Shimmy leader, Stella, isn’t about to let anyone—even if he is a hunky, tatted-up studmuffin—get in her way.

The Bride’s Runaway Billionaire is a deliciously juicy and utterly swoony romcom featuring a jaded optimist who’s had enough of the limelight, a happy-go-lucky celebrity whose world has been upside down since that fling after his divorce, the most adorable two-year-old on the planet, and a chicken with an attitude. While this book stands alone, you won’t go wrong to listen to The Worst Wedding Date, The Gossip and the Grump, and The Last Eligible Billionaire first.

Beauty and the Beefcake is a vegan-friendly standalone romantic comedy featuring a hockey player whose vocabulary is the only thing smaller than a hockey puck, a book smart but aimless ventriloquist with too many voices in her head, a dilapidated old house that may or may not be haunted, and no cheating or cliffhangers.

I’m your neighborhood hot-mess single mom, doing my best to keep my head above water while running my little slice of heaven and keeping my youngest from shoving marbles up his nose - which is exactly what he’s doing the first time Levi Wilson, pop star god, world’s sexiest man, and my all-time number-one celebrity obsession, walks into my bookstore. And we had a moment. Like, a moment-moment. So when he proposes a no-strings fling? Count. Me. In. Thrill of a lifetime, right? Surely, nothing will go wrong.

Never borrow pants from your brother. Especially if he’s a size smaller than you are, because all that pressure in the junk will short-circuit your brain. And you’ll lie to a woman in a club about your real name. Leave her unsatisfied after making out in a bathroom. Then find out that she’s the one thing standing in the way of your dreams. And she very much doesn’t like being lied to. Now I have to convince Lila Valentine - the woman I can’t stop thinking about, my biggest regret, and my new boss - that I’m what’s best for the baseball team she’s inherited.

If people have polar opposites, Luca Rossi is mine. His butt is in the baseball hall of fame. Mine's comfortably seated in the hall of lame. When he's not snagging fly balls out in center field, he's modeling in shampoo commercials. I once jammed my own finger while stirring cookie dough, and sometimes I forget shampoo is a thing. He's a total cynic when it comes to love. I make a living writing love stories. But after my latest broken engagement (no, I don't want to talk about how many times that's happened), it's clear he's exactly the man I need.

When you work hard and have the bank account to prove it, you're entitled to play hard. I've seen some crazy things. I've caused some crazy scenes. And there's no shame in my game. But I'm still knocked off my stilettos when an insane chain of events leads to me inheriting a baby. The craziest part? The baby comes with a by-the-books, no-nonsense retired Marine who's so regimented that I wouldn't be surprised if he irons his boxer shorts.