Mostrando resultados por autor "Gwyn McNamee" en Todas las categorías

Lost. Alone. Freezing on the side of a desolate mountain in a massive snowstorm. Until a rugged man with an ax saves me. Waking in his warm, comfortable bed leaves more than one question. How did I get here? Where are my clothes? And who is this handsome recluse with striking dark eyes and a grumpy demeanor?

Love can be ruthless, especially when you're a Hawke. You have to be ruthless to be a Hawke. Our empire in New Orleans has only grown over the years. And protecting it falls on my shoulders. Whether it's in the courtroom or in the streets, I do whatever it takes to get the job done. We've already suffered and lost enough. I won't let anything threaten my family or what we've built.

Sex on the beach with a smoking hot stranger . . . I blame the tequila. And the way he rode the waves like he owned them. And the delicious way the water trickled down over his washboard abs and the V thingy. And the fact that I'm on the trip that was supposed to be my honeymoon until I caught the bastard cheating. Yeah, I'm going to blame it on all that. Because reckless behavior is so not usually me. But surfer god Fyn is a breath of fresh air I so badly need. A break from reality of the world around me.

Only one word can describe the man who performs online as HRD4U.... Filthy. He really knows how to work that massive asset on camera. It’s enough to drive me mad while I watch. Too bad men like HRD4U don’t exist in real life. Apparently, finding a nice guy with a nasty mouth and a mammoth gift between the legs is asking too much. Instead, I just get snooze-inducing lovers and dates with no chemistry. Having my BFF Flynn McAllister right next door helps ease some of the pain of breakup after breakup.

He's everything she didn't know she wanted. She's everything he thought he could never have. The last thing I expect when I walk into The Hawkeye Club is to fall head over heels in lust. It’s supposed to be a rescue mission. I have to get my baby sister off the pole, into some clothes, and out of the grasp of the pussy peddler who somehow manipulated her into stripping. But the moment I see Savage Hawke and verbally spar with him, my ability to remain rational flies out the window and my libido takes center stage.

Falling in love with Gabe Anderson was as easy as breathing. Fighting my feelings for my brother’s best friend was agonizingly hard. I never imagined giving in to my desire for him would cause such a destructive ripple effect. That kiss was my grasp at a lifeline—something, anything to hold me steady in my crumbling life. Now, I have to suffer with the fallout while trying to convince him it’s all worth the consequences.

Only one word can describe Sebastian “Bash” Fury...dirty. He’s dirty hot. A dirty talker. And a dirty player. On the ice, he truly earns his nickname. He bashes opponents without regard for the rules or safety. Which is precisely why I can’t have him on my team. As the first female head coach in the NHL, all eyes are on me, waiting for me to fail. A man like Bash Fury is a liability who could ruin my career. Even worse, he’ll destroy my willpower. I should despise that cocky bastard. But something about his swagger and quick smile make him irresistibly charming....

She's my best friend's older sister. No matter what . . . I have to keep my hands off Angelina . . . Because she's a Hawke.

Only one word can describe Chef Jameson Fury: shameless. He parades around with that sexy smirk and those fabulous abs like he’s the king of the kitchen. Of all the places he could choose to open his new restaurant, why does it have to be right next door to mine? It’s hard enough trying to get my place up and running without having him hovering around and disrupting my business. Not to mention the way my body betrays me every time he’s close.

Buying and renovating the old plantation house seems like a great idea. The fact that it’s supposedly haunted by the spirit of a murdered prostitute is a minor oversight. I don’t believe in that crap anyway. But after a late-night rendezvous with a sexy spirit elicits a very real nocturnal emission from me, I have to rethink my belief in poltergeists…and love. The intoxicating woman who has been trapped here for over a century casts a spell over me with her humor, courage, and passion. I have to do something to free her from her ethereal prison.

Hate sex with the maid of honor at my best friend's royal wedding . . . I blame the vodka. Or maybe it was seeing how damn good she looked in that dress. The way it hugged every curve and accentuated her best assets. I definitely won't admit it might be because seeing the prince find his own princess means I'm going to be alone. Something that has terrified me since being orphaned. Grandmother is the only family I have left in this world. And losing myself in the woman who drives me absolutely mad was an easy escape from that reality.

Playing in a star-studded charity basketball game should be fun, and it is, until I literally go balls out to show up my arch nemesis. When I dive for the basketball and my junk slips out of my gym shorts, I know my life and career are over. There’s no way the network can keep my kids’ show on the air after I’ve exposed myself to millions of people. I don’t know how Andy, the new CEO, can go to bat for me with such passion. I also never anticipate how hot she looks in a pair of high heels.

A cursed pharaoh. A determined archaeologist. Three days to find true love. The dank depths of the Egyptian ruins reveal something I’ve been searching for my entire adult life—the tomb of the mysterious pharaoh, Nebtawyre Mentuhotep IV. And somehow, the sexy king steps from his sarcophagus very much alive. Lust soon overpowers reason as I fall down the rabbit hole with Wyre. He claims me completely—my mind, body, and soul. We only have three days to break a 4,000-year-old curse placed on him by his crazy ex. If we don’t, he’ll return to his tomb and take my heart with him.

Now in one complete collection, the three novellas in Gwyn McNamee's Slip Series. Includes Dickslip, Nipslip, and Beaver Blunder.

All I want is to be CEO at Warren Enterprises Worldwide, but the newly revised Warren Trust makes it clear … I won’t inherit the company or the family fortune unless I’m hitched before the first of the year. Too bad I don’t have a girlfriend or fiancée. What I do have is charm, dashing good looks, a prestigious lineage, an email address, and a faithful assistant willing to help me sort through all the applicants. But the longer we spend weeding out the duds, the more I appreciate the woman in front of me.

Greed. For the last 4,000 years, it’s been my curse. Every day, I live with the repercussions of the terrible choices I made. I thought I’d seen it all…then a black aura crosses my path. The beautiful woman it belongs to sends my world into a tailspin. She gets under my skin, hypnotizing me with her adventurous and risqué nature. I almost forget I know nothing about her. Thinking with the wrong head can certainly get a man in trouble, but in this case, it could mean an end worse than my curse.

Swirling snow may have stranded me at this tiny airport in the middle of nowhere on Christmas Eve, but it has nothing on the storm raging inside me when he walks into the terminal. Artemis Warren. My first love and the man who shattered my world. I thought I locked my feelings for him safely away in the past, but one look is all it takes for me to drown in his icy blue eyes again. So much time has passed. I’m no longer that naïve teenager standing on a beach, wishing the boy would choose me. Now, I’m hiding a secret that could unravel both our lives.

Returning to Loch Ness means coming home in more ways than one. The monster exists. I’ve seen him. Visions of the beast haunt my dreams and waking hours. When he rises from the water again, I watch him shift into a sexy Highlander right before my eyes, and everything I think I know evaporates.

I own the runway. Until my nipple pops out of my dress during New York Fashion Week and it suddenly owns me. Being called a worthless gutter slut by a fuming designer is the least of my problems. My career is swirling around the toilet like the other models’ lunches. Until smoking hot Tate Decker steps in with a crazy idea about how his magazine can maybe salvage my livelihood.

No panties. No problem. At least until I slip on the wet floor and go heels over head in front of my colleagues and half the courthouse. Returning to consciousness can't be more awkward, until I find out who my sexy, argumentative, and bossy knight in shining armor really is. My career may not survive my beaver blunder, and my heart might not survive Owen Grant.