Mostrando resultados por autor "Avery Flynn" en Todas las categorías

The only thing about me that’s a size zero is the filter on my mouth. I’ve got a big personality, a big rack, and a big number on the scale. And I’m perfectly fine with that. But when some random guy suggests I might not be eating alone if I’d ordered a salad instead of a hamburger I’m shocked silent, which is a feat, trust me. That brings us to one sexy fireman named Frankie Hartigan. He’s hot. He’s funny. And he’s just apologized for being late for our “date” then glared at the fat-shaming jerk.

By-the-book secret agent Lucas Bendtsen will do anything to keep his country safe - even if that means blackmailing the stepdaughter of a notorious mobster who is about to sell guns to a group of terrorists. The plan? He'll pose as her fiance in order to access her stepfather's guarded compound and find out the location of the arms deal. The problem? Despite her reputation as a heartless femme fatale, Ruby Macintosh is not at all what she seems.

It’s true. I’m not what most people would call “pretty” and, well, high school was rough. Fast forward ten years and life is good, until a bunch of jerks think it’s hilarious to put the “butterface” (AKA me) on a wedding Kiss Cam with the hottest guy ever - and that old humiliation hits hard. I recognize him immediately. The hottest cop in Waterbury and totally out of my league. But then he kisses me. And we totally forget the room, the crowd, everything. Then he tells everyone we’ve been dating for months.

Ever have one of those days where life just plain sucks? Welcome to my last three months - ever since I caught my can’t-be-soon-enough-ex-husband cheating with his paralegal. I’m 35 years old, and I’ve lost my NYC apartment, my job, my money, and frankly, my dignity. But the final heartache in the suck sandwich of my life? My great-aunt Maggie died. The only family member who’s ever gotten me. Even after death, though, she’s helping me get back up again. Too bad that bravado only lasts as long as it takes to drive into Huckleberry Hills. And see the house.

Don’t miss the next installment of the USA Today bestselling romantic comedy series and find out what happens when the whole town thinks Fallon Hartigan slept with the most hated man in Harbor City.

Hot, filthy rich, and usually irresistible, Hudson Carlyle just met the one woman in Harbor City who's immune to his legendary charm. Nerdy ant researcher Felicia Hartigan is the unsexiest dresser ever. She trips over air. And she's in love with totally the wrong man. Hudson can't stop thinking about her. His regular moves won't work here.

Hadley Donavan can’t believe she has to go home to Nebraska for her sister’s wedding. She’s gonna need a wingman and a whole lot of vodka for this level of family interaction. At least her bestie agreed he’d man up and help. But then instead of her best friend, his evil twin strolls out of the airport.

As the only Beckett cousin who is still unattached, I’m a shoo-in to win the bet with my cousins to be the last man blissfully not in love by Christmas. Of course, I know they’re still going to make me follow the rules of our bet and go on six dates with the same woman - but I’ve figured out a way out of that too. I’m getting married. Is it love? Not even close. Chelle Finch needs a temporary husband, and I need to win this bet.

One night and my life completely jumped the tracks. Actually, a pack of expired condoms did that - the rest of the night was pretty amazing. Open bar at a friend's wedding. Bad dancing all around. Stupid trivia bets with my fellow Ice Knights hockey teammates. And Tess Gardner. The factoid-blurting, fandom-T-shirt-wearing, no-I-don’t-want-a-relationship-with-you woman makes me forget for one night that I’m a man with a routine and my future all mapped out. Still, it sucked she left our room without giving me her number.

Sylvie Bissette may be one of Harbor City's youngest glitterati, but only her best friends know her most closely guarded secret. She's the woman behind The High-Heeled Wonder, a must-read blog for fashionistas everywhere. When an internet troll discovers her secret identity and escalates from stalking her to threatening her life, Sylvie turns to security expert Tony Falcon for help.

Workaholic billionaire Sawyer Carlyle may have joked he needed a buffer from their marriage-obsessed mom, but he didn't need a waiting room filled with candidates to further distract him. (Thanks, bro.) But when a sexy job applicant shoos his mom and the socialite in tow out of his office, Sawyer sees the genius of the plan. And the woman. In fact, Miss Clover Lee might just get the fastest promotion in history, from buffer to fake fiancé....

So I may be in the Last Single Man Standing competition with my cousins, but five minutes around Kinsey was all it took to take myself out. Who cares about bragging rights when you’ve just found the woman you’re going to marry? Sure, she may work for my biggest competitor. Sure, she’s not dating right now. Sure, she’s my sister’s best friend and I’ve been sworn off her. But somehow she agrees to go on six fake dates to help me save face in this competition.

Stylist Elle Olsen lives in fear of someone discovering her secret identity as Princess Eloise. But the men who killed her entire family in a bloody coup have done just that, and now they're coming for her. All Elle wants is to disappear into anonymity again, but the panty-melting billionaire who kidnaps her isn't about to let that happen.

One night. No strings. And a really good puck. Five years ago, Astrid O’Malley experienced the ultimate in public humiliation. Being dumped at the altar by her childhood sweetheart was horrifying enough. That fact that he was a professional hockey goalie and her dad was his coach? It was all anyone in sports could talk about.

Dixon Beckett is the kind of guy who loves his mama, treats women right, and never ever wants to fall in love again. That’s why he’ll do anything to win a bet to be the last single man standing by Christmas. He’s got a plan, too. Create the most no-good, horrible, very bad dating profile in existence. Only someone actually responds to his ad....

When a hockey player with a major PR problem finds himself on a bad date with a redhead, he has to tough it out for five dates without flaking - or falling in love.

I never meant to say a word, not one single word. But I did. And now, because of my blog, everyone knows that Ice Knights hockey star Ian Petrov's best friend and fellow player is actually his half-brother - hello, hockey Hall of Famer dad who couldn't keep his jeans zipped. That wouldn't be such a big deal if Ian knew. He didn't, and boy howdy is he pissed. And who is he most mad at? Oh sure, he's upset with his dad and former best friend/brother from another mother, but most of his ire is with me. It's definitely a case of hating the messenger.

Could it possibly get any worse than having absolutely no magical abilities when you’re a member of the most powerful family of witches ever? It used to be that I’d say no, but then I keep getting set up on dates with Gil Connolly whose hotness is only matched by his ego. Seriously. I can’t stand him. Even if I also can’t stop thinking about him (specifically kissing him) but we’re going to pretend I never told you that part.

It’s the curse of every family’s heir to be the responsible one. My family being the most powerful family in all of Witchingdom doesn’t eliminate that fact, it only makes it worse—and that’s why I, Leona Amber Sherwood, never do the unexpected. Except for that one time I did. Believe me, I have rued the day that I got married in a midnight ceremony under a full moon to Erik Svensen, the heir to my family’s deepest, bitterest enemies, and now, he won’t agree to a divorce unless we return an ancient spell book to his family’s secured facility.

There is no way I can resist avenging my sister's broken heart by filling her cheating boyfriend's bitchin' DeLorean with extra buttered movie popcorn, a half-melted Snickers, and the contents of one shaken can of Tab. There's only one six-foot-six-inch problem. It's not The Creep's car. It's Frank "The Airhead" Hartigan’s. Now he wants me to drive him to Harbor City to make up for trashing his ride. On the outside, I'm all gag me with a spoon, but on the inside? Yeah, not so much.