Showing results by narrator "Tyler Donne"

I found an envelope in the mail. No return address. My name on the front, my address. Inside was a check, made out to me, in the amount of 10 thousand dollars. Enough to pay the bills and leave me some left over to live on until I found a job. Enough to let me focus on classes. There was no name on the check, just "VRI Inc.", and a post office box address for somewhere in the city. No hint of identity or reason for the check or anything. No mention of repayment, interest, nothing...except a single word, on the notes line: "You." Just those three letters.

You never forget your wedding day. Or the moment your twin sister pukes on your bouquet and confesses she's pregnant...with your fiance's baby. I wanted to get away, to hide until my heart mended. I found myself in a strange town with a mysterious stranger whose talented mouth and hands almost made me forget it was supposed to be my wedding night. Afraid to go home to face my broken life, I pretend to be my twin so I can take her job in Jackson Harbor caring for a six-year-old girl. Imagine my surprise when I find out my new boss is my mysterious stranger - Dr. Ethan Jackson.

Roth and I are on an open-ended tour of the world. Roth being Roth, this means missionary in Morocco, reverse cowgirl in Calcutta, bent over the bow of a houseboat in Hanoi, slow and sleepy on St. John. Anywhere and everywhere, in every conceivable position and some I didn't know were possible. Life is pretty incredible. Until I wake up in his chateau in France alone. On the bed next to me is a note. There are only four words: "He belongs to me."

When I see the ad in the Portland Alternative's "Love Wanted" section, I can't resist the urge to respond. Yes, it's dangerous - as a star forward for the Badgers, I have a reputation to protect - but I miss the thrill of calling the shots in the bedroom, and reading that ad is the first time I've laughed in months. So I reach out to Curious Cat about the "educational" opportunity....

For my 30th birthday, I'm giving myself the one thing I want most: a baby. Sure, this would be easier if I had a husband - or even a boyfriend - but I refuse to be thwarted by minor details. When I drunkenly confess my plans to my friends, they convince me to ask Jake Jackson for help. Jake, the best friend who's been there for me through thick and thin. Jake, who also happens to be smart, funny, ridiculously good looking, and the winner of all the genetic lotteries.

Looking up into Alexi Petrov’s dark eyes as I break the news, I’m scared out of my mind. This man is the most terrifying defender in the NHL, and if it weren't for my sporty new baby bump, I probably wouldn't believe we hooked up that night. (Yes, I’ve sworn off margaritas for life.) But the Alexi who goes to my doctor appointments, moves me into his guesthouse, and cooks me so many gourmet meals I look like I'm carrying twins? He isn’t scary at all.

Your wedding day is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, right? That's what they say, at least. I went into that day hoping I'd get the happiest day of my life. What I got? The worst. I mean, you really can't get any worse of a day without someone actually dying. So...I may have gotten just a little drunk, and maybe just a tad impetuous...and landed myself in a dive bar somewhere in Alaska, alone, still in my wedding dress, half wasted and heartbroken.

I hate my new roommate. And I want to do dirty, delicious things to her in that swing she installed that we both know has nothing to do with aerial yoga. Neither of which is good, considering Diana Daniels is my NHL team captain's little sister, and he will break my face if I'm not a perfect gentleman. I try to be. Really, I do. But Diana has all sorts of Jedi mind tricks to make a man obsessed with getting her into bed, and I'm not gonna lie - I fall for every single one of them.

I was a 68 Whiskey - a combat medic. So when I hear someone shout "MEDIC!", training just kicks in. It's automatic, immediate. I don't think I even saw the guy whose leg I tended to, not really. All I saw was him. Zane Badd. His tuxedo fit him like he'd been sewn into it, and his eyes reflected the fury and the hardness of a combat veteran, but when he looked at me, he just...softened. By the time I had his brother patched, Zane and I were both covered in blood, and I knew I had to have him.

A one-night stand with the boss was never in her plans. Neither was falling in love.... The rumors are true. I’m a hot mess with an awful track record at love. Single mom. Down on her luck. Yeah, I’m bad news. If the hardest part of moving back home to Jackson Harbor was going to be people talking, I’d be fine. I’ve kept my chin up through worse than their decade-old gossip. I was wrong.

Face it, ladies: love sucks and then you cry while your ex rides off into the sunset banging your best friend. But why let a break-up end in tears when it can end with sweet revenge? Enter Magnificent Bastard Consulting and me, chief executive bastard. I've got it all - looks, brains, a heart of gold, and the killer instinct guaran-damn-teed to make your ex regret the day he said goodbye.

Brock Badd is everything except bad. He's sexy, sweet, strong, and every other good thing I never thought I wanted in a man. I always thought I needed the real bad boys, the ones that screw you senseless and pull your hair and aren't there to talk about it in the morning. But one night with Brock, and I was hooked. But hooked doesn't mean ready for a relationship. That's what he wants. And deep down, I'm starting to fear that's what I want too. I'm just not sure I'm ready for it.

I am the world's biggest dating failure. We're talking my last date went home with our waitress kind of failure. But I have an ace in the back pocket of my mom jeans - my sexy-as-sin best friend, NHL superstar forward, Justin Cruise. Justin owes me favors dating back to seventh grade, long before he became a hotshot with a world famous...stick. So in return for my undying platonic loyalty, all I want is an easy-peasy crash course on how to be a sex goddess.

When Greyson tosses $20 on the stage of a strip club, the last things he expects to see are the haunted green eyes staring back at him. Finley should be home raising her infant daughter and baking cookies, not tucking singles into her G-string and giving lap dances. Greyson can't deny that he'd like his own private show, but there's not a chance in hell of that happening. The last time the former Navy SEAL saw her, she was dressed in black, holding a folded flag, and sobbing that it was all his fault...and he agreed with every single word.

The Alpha League Federal Agency's sworn duty is to protect humanity from the worst of the paranormal universe. Wolf-shifter Agent Bryon Day has been deep undercover for more than a year, investigating a human trafficking ring, when he goes MIA. Since A.L.F.A. never leaves an agent behind, a team is sent to save him — or bring his body home.

From New York Times best-selling author Lexi Ryan comes a sexy new stand-alone romance about a woman torn between two men, searching for missing memories that could hold the key to her future.

When the family dog trots in with my diaphragm in its mouth - in front of my date, his parents, and his adorable little girl - you would think I'd hit rock bottom. Wrong. Let's back this up a sec. Brendan Daniels is the sexiest man alive. The captain of the Badger's NHL team is also clever, kind, funny, and was my good friend...until we cruised out of the friend zone one weekend with a red-hot fling.

Nicholas Harris is a professional badass. Ex-Army Ranger, former personal security for the one and only Valentine Roth, mercenary, assassin, pilot, and my lover. After Roth and Kyrie holed up in their island fortress estate in the Caribbean, Nick started a private security contracting company: Alpha One Security. He hired the best of the best, the scariest, nastiest, toughest - and sexiest - security experts in the business.

It's Naomi Clemons's big day. Her dream wedding. And she's outta here. One moment. A chance meeting of gazes through the church window pane with someone familiar who radiates intrigue. Independence. It's the final push Naomi needs to realize...she's boring. A blonde, cookie cutter, well mannered trophy wife-to-be. How can she expect to lead a fulfilling married life when she's never lived? Special Forces diver Jason Bristow needs a beauty pageant coach. Not for himself - although the tattooed bruiser could definitely use some charm. 

The problem with being born with expectations is the failure to live up to any. Christopher might be the antichrist, but taking over the world and leading the minions of darkness sounds like a lot of work. And while slacking is a sin his supposed dad Lucifer approves of, his lack of goals is a problem. Personally, Christopher would rather just work hard enough to make ends meet - and maybe buy a six-pack. But fate is conspiring against him.