Mostrando resultados por autor "Sara Ney" en Todas las categorías

Margot’s a busy single mom juggling teaching, parenting, and trying not to die alone. Dating apps? Total nightmare. But desperate times call for desperate swipes, even if they make her break out in stress hives. When she matches with a guy who looks too good to be true, she’s convinced he’s a walking red flag—or worse—a catfish.

With rugged good looks and muscles for days, Harris Bennett stops traffic no matter what he’s wearing—flannel shirt or football jersey. So when management sends him to Star Lake, Washington, for a team-building retreat, it’s no wonder a local mistakes him for a lumberjack. And Harris leans right into the misunderstanding. Because that “local” looks amazing in yoga pants.

Harlow James is destined to rock the dating world. The creator of Kissmet, the app helping singles find love, she’s in New York to secure advertisers. But the sassy, small-town girl can’t help meddling in other people’s business. When she runs into a muscular stranger at her go-to food truck, Harlow doesn’t realize he’s Landon “Andy” Burke, the NFL’s most-wanted free agent, in town to talk contracts. She just sees a hottie about to get burned by undercooked street food. Though she tries to warn him, he shrugs her off, making a little wager instead.

I never thought I would get pregnant in college. When I did, I thought leaving Jack Jennings was doing him a giant favor—he had a bright future ahead of him as a football star—the last thing he needed was me and a baby standing in his way of his dreams. Honestly? I figured he would eventually forget about me. I would raise our child in secret and watch Jack on television, and the pain of what I'd done to him would heal.

What's a girl to do when the star of the hockey team crash lands in her backyard after a prank gone wrong? Help him cover up the evidence...in exchange for him posing as the perfect prom date, of course. Get ready to swoon with this hilarious YA rom-com debut from the USA Today bestselling...

"Hard pass." That's what the last girl I slept with said when she got her first sober glimpse of me. She laughed, walked out of my penthouse - and I never saw her again. It doesn't matter that I'm a rich, professional athlete; what mattered was my face. Beauty might only be skin deep for some - but I know better. "Pay up." That's what the last girl I spoke to said over the phone when I made her an offer she couldn't refuse.

My friends want me to get laid. So much so that they plastered my ugly mug all over campus in bold printed letters: Are you the lucky lady who's going to break our roommate's cherry? Him: Socially awkward man with average-sized penis looking for willing sexual partner. You: Must have a pulse. He will reciprocate with oral. Text him at: 555-254-5551. The morons can't even spell. And the texts I've been receiving are what wet dreams are made of. But I'm not like these douchebags, no matter how hard they try to turn me into one.

No doubt about it, Sebastian "Oz" Osborne is the university's most celebrated student athlete - and possibly the biggest douchebag. A walking, talking cliché, he has a filthy mouth, a fantastic body, and doesn't give a sh-t about what you or anyone else thinks. Jameson Clarke may be the university's most diligent student - but she is no prude. Spending most of her time in the hallowed halls of the library, James is wary of pervs, jocks, and douchebags - and Oz Osborne is all three. She's smart, sarcastic - and not what he expected....

Some girls have all the luck. Unfortunately, I am not one of those girls. Not when I lost my apartment because my roommate let the lease lapse while I travel for work. Not when my brothers keep finding love and my mother keeps reminding me I'm still single. Not after a one-night stand during my older brother's wedding has me waking up pregnant. I have to keep it a secret - from him and my family.

Scarlett is always the sensible one: The sober driver. The planner. The one holding your hair back while you're worshiping the porcelain gods. Week-after-week, she visits Jock Row with her friends - the university's hottest party scene and a breeding ground for student athletes. And if keeping her friends out of trouble and guys out of their pants was a sport, she'd be the star athlete. Being a well known jock-blocker gets her noticed for all the wrong reasons; just like that, she's banned from Jock Row. No guy wants a girl around who keeps their jock friends from getting laid.

I knew something was wrong the second she walked in the door tonight; I just couldn't put my finger on what it was. Same hair color. Same legs. Same face. Except...I look harder. At the small dimple beneath her lip that wasn't there the last time we went out. And her laugh - that laugh isn't as loud. This isn't the girl I've gone out with the past few weeks. It's her twin sister, and they've switched places on me.

Full disclosure: Before we move forward with this email, I would like it to be known that I have consumed an adequate amount of alcoholic beverages to intoxicate myself tonight. Three margaritas, two shots, and one beer - because it was free. I think it's important to be open and honest with your coworkers, don't you? So here I am, being open and honest. Drunk but honest. Or just drunk with lust? You decide. I have a hopeless, foolish, schoolgirl crush on you when you are the last person on earth I should be falling for. Did you know people around the office call you a sadist?

Zeke Daniels isn't just a douchebag; he's an asshole. A total and complete jerk, Zeke keeps people at a distance. He has no interest in relationships - most assholes don't. Dating? Being part of a couple? Nope. Not for him. He's never given any thought to what he wants in a girlfriend, because he's never had any intention of having one. Shit, he barely has a relationship with his family, and they're related; his own friends don't even like him. So why does he keep thinking about Violet DeLuca? Sweet, quiet Violet - his opposite in every sense of the word.

I would do anything for my best friend. Well. Almost anything. When she begs me to come on a weekend getaway so I can bond with her new boyfriend, I can't say no-no matter how badly I want to. After all, who will keep an eye on the guy; he's your stereotypical, professional football player (emphasis on PLAYER) and I don't trust him with my friend's heart.

Piper has been crushing on Ryder Williams for years. What better chance to make her move on him than when he’s sacrificing himself on an auction block for a squealing mass of fans at a charity event? Too bad she’d rather hide in the bathroom than raise her paddle; what girl actually bids on a guy who doesn’t know she exists? Not. Piper. But that's what friends are for. One meddling best friend, and an overpriced bid later, and Ryder Willams is Piper's for the taking. Too bad that she has no intention of collecting on his debt.

Kip Carmichael is no pretty boy. He's rough. Dirty. Giant. Hair so unruly, and a beard so thick, his friends on the team call him Sasquatch. The first time Sasquatch lays eyes on Theodora "Teddy" Johnson across the keg at a party one night on Jock Row, she'd been relegated to the sidelines by her jock-hungry "friends". Week after week, he watches beautiful but bashful Teddy getting overshadowed and overlooked. Sasquatch finally broad-shoulders his way through the crowd, offering to to be her hairy godmother. But the minute their eyes meet? He's a goner.

Studious and sensible, the only thing Molly Wakefield wants to do is get through senior year and graduate. That, and hit the beach in her spare time. Maybe even read a book or two. And things are going great—until the day she catches Weston McGrath, handsome star athlete and scholar, spying on her in study hall. A tad creepy? Maybe. Thrilling? Absolutely. Why? Because Weston McGrath is one guy no one can get close to. Despite her efforts to avoid him, Molly and Weston form an unlikely friendship. But it's a friendship that comes with a price—because Weston cannot stop screwing up.

Hard head. Bad attitude. Terrible boyfriend. That's what my exes have said about me - but I wasn't serious about any of them, so what do I care what rumors they spread? What I need is to be left alone; by the press, by the paparazzi, and by women. Too bad I'm about to be surrounded by them for the weekend. My obnoxious, matchmaking brother is getting married, and he's doing his damnedest to find me a wedding date.

All I need is a place to hide for a few weeks. The paparazzi were on my case 24/7 and I needed a bit of breathing room—an escape from the madness—before the media frenzy begins. Sure, I could have gone to a secluded cabin in the woods—but I didn't want to be bored out of my mind. I'd seen enough wide open spaces as a kid from Texas to last me a lifetime. So instead, I let my sports agent hook me up with a modest house in the burbs where we didn't think anyone would find me hiding in plain sight.

Love finds you when you least expect it. That's what my nan always said. Love? I wasn't looking for it, so how will I know when I've found it? I'm not romantic like she was—I'm realistic and practical. Quick with my wits and hilarious when I'm in the mood, it'll take more than a handsome face to win my affection. Speaking of handsome faces—Elias Cohen is nothing special (no offense); smug, arrogant. Too flirtatious for his own good. He won't charm me with that crooked smile and dimple in his chin.