Mostrando resultados por autor "L. J. Shen" en Todas las categorías

The most important thing I’d ever read was scribbled on the door of a portable restroom, engraved into plastic at a carnival on the outskirts of Boston. Lust lingers, love stays. Lust is impatient, love waits. Lust burns, love warms. Lust destroys, but love? Love kills. Maybe it was always my destiny to fall in love with a monster. When other kids stayed awake at night fearing the pointy-toothed beast hiding in their closet, I longed to see mine.

Adam Mackay. Local legend. My brother’s best friend. The world biggest movie star...and my major, epic, unrequited crush. He needs a cat-sitter in sunny L.A., and I need a place to live after a bad breakup. Perfect, right? Sure, if you possess any type of self-control. Spoiler alert: I have none. This arrangement has trouble written all over it, but warning signs are meant to be ignored. Kind of like clicking on the "I have read and agreed" no one actually reads before clicking. Problem is, I never did agree to fall so quickly back into love.

Bane: Naked surfer. Habitual pothead. A con, a liar, a thief, and a fraud. Last I heard, he was extorting the rich and screwing their wives for a living. Which is why I’m more than a little surprised to find him at my threshold, looking for my friendship, my services, and most puzzling of all - looking humbled. Thing is, I’m on a boycott. Literally - cut boys from my life. Permanently. Problem is, Bane is not a boy, he is all man, and I’m falling, crashing, drowning in his sweet, perfect lies.

I don’t usually trap women with amnesia into marriage. But I guess there’s a first time for everything. When the woman of my dreams falls into my lap, I can’t help but wonder what else she can do in that position. She’s here. In my house. At my mercy. And she thinks we’ve been lovers the entire decade we spent apart. Briar and I have always been unfinished business. Now it’s time to seal the deal.

Cruel. Coldblooded. Hades in a Brioni suit. Cillian Fitzpatrick has been dubbed every wicked thing on planet earth. To the media, he is The Villain. To me, he is the man who (reluctantly) saved my life. Now I need him to do me another small solid. Bail me out of the mess my husband got me into. What’s a hundred grand to one of the wealthiest men in America, anyway? Only Cillian doesn’t hand out free favors. The price for the money, it turns out, is my freedom.

Vaughn Spencer. They call him an angry god. To me, he is nothing but a heartless prince. His parents rule this town, its police, every citizen and boutique on Main Street. All I own is a nice, juicy grudge against him for that time he almost killed me. Between hooking up with a different girl every weekend, breaking hearts, noses, and rules, Vaughn also finds the time to bully little ol' me. I fight back, tooth and nail, never expecting him to chase me across the ocean after we graduate high school.

I landed in hot water with the tabloids one too many times. What can I say? My nipple wanted to come out and say hi to the paparazzi. After that, my father presented me with an ultimatum—either he cuts off the gravy train and stops paying for my lavish lifestyle or I agree to have a live-in bodyguard. And by bodyguard, I mean a sexy, formidable, out-of-this-world babysitter who just happens to be good at breaking spines. Ransom Lockwood, ladies and gentlemen.

Jolie Louis is a smart girl. She knows that her best friend, Sage Poirier, is a bad idea. He's a walking, talking cliché. The Adonis quarterback with the bulging biceps and harem of fangirls trailing behind him on campus like a stench you can't get rid of. Sadly, that's also the reason she can't stay away from him. Well, that and the fact that they're roommates. Jolie is already straddling the line between friendship and more when Sage comes to her with an offer she cannot refuse.

It should have been easy. I needed the money. He needed a babysitter to keep him from snorting himself to death. I was cherry-picked especially for him. Responsible. Optimistic. Warm. Innocent. The worst part is that I should have known better. Alex Winslow. British rock star. Serial heartbreaker. Casanova with whiskey eyes. “Don’t get near the devil in a leather jacket. He’ll chew you up and spit you out.” Guess what? I didn’t listen. I signed the contract. World tour. Three months. Four Continents. 100 shows. My name is Indigo Bellamy, and I sold my soul to a tattooed god.

Emmabelle Penrose has cruised through life never needing a man, a plan that has worked stunningly well until about five minutes ago, when she decided she must have a baby. Devon Whitehall is 6’2” of premium DNA, financial security, and British royal titles. Best of all, he fears the one thing she dreads the most: getting hitched. Emmabelle figures it’s a no-brainer when Devon offers his services - sperm and involvement in her future child’s life.

My name is Melody Greene, and I have a confession to make. I slept with my student, a senior in high school. Multiple times. I had multiple orgasms. In multiple positions. I slept with my student and I enjoyed it. I slept with my student and I'd do it all over again if I could turn back time. My name is Melody Greene, and I got kicked out of my position as a teacher and did my walk of shame a la Cersei Lannister from the principal's office, minutes after said principal threatened to call the cops on me.

Meet Blaire. An underachieving college student with zero prospects and a ton of issues (hey, being the less-successful twin of a gorgeous supermodel would totally do that to you). She doesn't do bad boys. Actually, she doesn't do boys, like, at all. Not that she's a lesbian. And not that there's anything wrong with being one. It's just that...well...she kind of needs to focus on graduating from college right now.

Grace doesn’t know much about anything beyond her town’s limits, but she does know this: She is falling in love with the hottest guy in Sheridan U. And when you play with fire - you ought to get burned.

Luna Rexroth is everyone’s favorite wallflower. Underneath the meek, tomboy exterior everyone loves (yet pities) is a girl who knows exactly what, and who, she wants - namely, the boy from the tree house who taught her how to curse in sign language. Who taught her how to laugh. To live. To love. Knight Cole is everyone’s favorite football hero. This daredevil hell-raiser could knock you up with his gaze alone, but he only has eyes for the girl across the street: Luna. But Luna is not who she used to be. She doesn’t need his protection anymore.

Maddie Goldbloom stitched up a plan to ensure everything in her life was perfect - from a career in fashion to a chic NYC apartment to a pediatrician boyfriend. When her ex, Chase Black, storms back into her life with an outrageous request, her immediate reaction is to refuse him. But he only wants to fulfill his father’s last wish. So even though he’s the man who broke her heart, playing his fiancée shouldn’t be hard, especially if it means she gets to watch the arrogant devil squirm a bit.

His name is Nate and I should hate him, but I don't. I'm not supposed to know his real name, even worse, I'm not supposed to care. He is nothing to me but means to an end. The plan is simple: break free, collect the pieces of my broken soul, kill the bastards and run away.

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....

Célian Laurent. Manhattan royalty. Notorious playboy. Heir to a media empire...and my new boss. I could have impressed him, if not for last month's unforgettable one-night stand. I left it with more than orgasms and a pleasant memory - namely, his wallet. Now he's staring me down like I'm the dirt under his Italian loafers, and I'm supposed to take it. But the thing about being Judith "Jude" Humphry is I have nothing to lose. Brooklyn girl. Infamously quirky. Heir to a stack of medical bills and a tattered couch.

They call him The Mute for a reason. Hard, cold, and calculated, he rarely speaks. When he does, it's with disdain. When he does, his words aren't meant for me. When he does, my stomach flips and my world tilts on its axis. He is 33. I am 18. He's a single dad and my father's business partner. I'm just a kid to him and his enemy's daughter. He's emotionally unavailable. And I am...feeling. Feeling things I shouldn't feel for him. Trent Rexroth is going to break my heart. The writing isn't just on the wall, it's inked on my soul.

They say that life is a beautiful lie and death a painful truth. They're right. No one has ever made me feel more alive than the guy who serves as a constant reminder that my clock is ticking. He is my forbidden, shiny apple. The striking fallacy to my blunt, raw, truth. He is also my sister's ex-boyfriend. One thing you should know before you judge me: I saw him first. I craved him first. I loved him first. Eleven years later, he waltzed into my life, demanding a second chance. Dean Cole wants to be my bronze horseman. Hopefully, he isn't too late.