The newest barista at the Busy Bean is about to steam the place up . . .
Former Marine Mason Rye can make a cappuccino with military precision, but he finds it much harder to serve up a smile. It's not that he doesn't like people. But he knows from experience that once you let someone in, it hurts like hell when you lose them. And Mason's lost too many people already.
So it's pretty damn inconvenient when his old Marine buddy shows up on Mason's goat farm with his younger sister in tow. Heather's work in Washington D.C. has turned dangerous, and she needs a safe place out of town.
Mason doesn't need a new roommate, especially not a pretty, single one who insists on rearranging his spice rack and giving his chickens cute names. Although there's no denying the haunted look in her blue eyes. Every time her fear shows its face, he wants to reach for her.
The problem is that she wants him, too. And when Mason breaks all his rules, they practically burn down his bed together. But her life is in D.C. And the threat against her is over.
Unfortunately, neither of their hearts is fireproof . . .
Contains mature themes.
I had it all. Killer job, to-die-for apartment overlooking the Hudson, and the successful, doting boyfriend.
Well, he was successful, at least. Guys who dote don't break up with you via Post-It.
After that, I did the one thing I swore I'd never do. I went home to the smallest small town there is-a place so backward my family was still engaging in a hundreds-of-years-old feud with the Tuckers. Maybe it had evolved from the days of shooting one another to slightly more benign things, like filling family stores with crickets and moving a two-ton moose around town. But still. This was not NYC.
It was meant to be a stop-over. But when a little old lady died suddenly and left her dilapidated haunted house to me, things got complicated. Because she didn't just leave the house to me. She left it to me and Michael Tucker jointly.
Because who doesn't want to live in a haunted house with their sworn enemy? Only I'm not sure Michael Tucker is my enemy. In fact, he's turning out to be kind of . . . hot. In a strong single dad kind of way.
And I'm not sure how much I really want to get back to New York City, anyway.
Contains mature themes.
Sometimes love makes plans for you while you're busy making plans of your own . . .
Finding myself over thirty and divorced, living in the same small town where I grew up, was not exactly the fast track to personal success. So I took action.
I landed a job with a bigger practice in a big city where I'd find more opportunities at work, and hopefully in my social life. I was ready to move on.
But when Cormac Whitewood and his adorable daughters came into my life, suddenly my big plans didn't seem so shiny and exciting. Suddenly, I was finding myself drawn to the lonely widower, wishing for more time with him.
The thing is, Cormac made it clear he wasn't over his late wife-and I'd never force my way into someone else's family. Besides, I'd already made my plans.
So why do they feel so wrong?
Contains mature themes.
I'll just admit it right up front-I don't love the holidays. In fact, Christmas makes me downright cranky.
Call me the Grinch if you must, but if your dad chose that day to decide he was wrong about that whole wanting a family thing, you'd grow up miffed about mistletoe too. Every candy cane, ugly sweater, and falalalala reminds me of the worst day of my life.
So when my uncle-a bigwig network executive-gives me one last shot to salvage my disastrous TV production career on a show called Holiday Homes, I've got no choice but to suck it up, head to the small town of Singletree, and fake festive.
The problem?
Callan Whitewood. The sexy, sullen former pro-soccer player might be the one person on earth who hates the holidays more than I do. After a devastating injury ended his career, he's left with a limp, no idea what to do with his future, and a cheerless attitude worthy of Ebenezer Scrooge. But I've got a time limit to convince the gorgeous grump to allow his home to be featured as the pinnacle of the Christmas episode of the show that's going to save my career.
That is, if I can keep my hands off him . . . but I'm having a bit of trouble sticking to the task.
Contains mature themes.
Juliet Manchester is America's best-loved movie starlet. But when a nasty divorce and a sex-tape scandal threaten to tarnish her spotless good-girl reputation, she turns to costar Ryan McDonnell to help distract the media with a passionate (and completely fake) new romance. The only problem? They're both in love with other people.
Going home for Gran's ninetieth in Maryland was something I normally would've been looking forward to. But the timing is terrible. My ex is dragging me through a media scandal, and if I had my way, I'd stay out of the spotlight entirely.
But America's Sweetheart has to be okay, and my agent is positive the best way to convince America that I'm not in the midst of a breakdown is to date my latest co-star. He's hot. He's sweet. And he's willing. But he's not the man I'm in love with.
The former Marine bodyguard who's been stationed inside my house by the private security firm I employ is nothing like a movie star. He's rough around the edges, from the wrong side of the tracks . . . and one-hundred percent exactly my type.
I just need to remember that Jace Morgan is here to protect me. Not to love me.
Contains mature themes.
My sister Juliet has always gotten everything she wants. It's fine though. I never wanted the spotlight. That was my sister's domain. And now that she's America's most popular starlet? She can have it.
But when Gran-the feisty woman who raised us, and who I cannot seem to wean off video games, an afternoon doobie, or her daily Manhattan-has a huge party to celebrate her 90th birthday, Juliet brings the Hollywood madness straight to Maryland.
In the form of my ultimate movie-star crush, Ryan McDonnell. I can barely form a sentence around the guy (at least I don't still have a poster of him on my wall). And I definitely can't get over the fact that he's Juliet's new boyfriend.
I just need to get through the weekend with them-and with the magazine people who are covering them and the party for a feature. I just need to stay away from Ryan and his warm curious eyes, his perfectly chiseled arms, and the impossibly sexy things that come out of his mouth when we're alone together.
It's only one weekend, and I just need to remember that Ryan is an actor. A good one. Because I almost believe him when he tells me we have a chance together.
Contains mature themes.
Fernando Fuerte is a total player. In every sense of the word. He’s star forward for the Sharks, the pro soccer team where I handle PR. And I don’t care if Mr. Match says he’s my soulmate. I don’t date players.
When my boyfriend, Andrew-the-hand-model, dumped me, my twin brother suggested I try San Diego’s hottest dating app, Mr. Match.
I figured I couldn’t do worse than a guy who wore gloves all the time. (And I do mean ALL the time.)
But when the site matched me with my biggest PR nightmare and nemesis, Fernando “the Fire” Fuerte, a guy who has more dates than a calendar, I knew Mr. Match was probably high. Fuerte’s tabloid shenanigans turned my stomach and regularly challenged my ability to keep the Sharks organization looking respectable.
My brother Trace—Fuerte’s best friend and keeper for the Sharks—laughed at me when I told him who I’d been matched with. He laughed. I might take myself a little bit seriously, but I won’t be laughed at.
Fernando Fuerte will go out with me if I decide that’s what I want. And when Trace makes me a bet that I can’t get him to ask me out? A bet that involves very fancy cheese?
It’s on.
The problem is that the closer I get to Fuerte, the more I start to see that he’s actually a good guy. And the closer I get to becoming just another girl in his long line of dates.
If I fall for him, can I win more than just the ridiculous cheese bet I made with my brother? Can I actually win Fuerte’s love?
I’m a planner. I like to know what’s coming next. I plan my days, my holidays, my love life.
Which is why, when my fiancé, Paul, unplanned our holiday—and our entire future—just before Christmas, it felt like everything was slipping out of my control.
But I didn’t panic. Instead? I planned.
I figured a trip home to Oregon to see my family for the holidays would help me forget my failed engagement. Or at provide distraction in the form of Mom’s sugar cookies.
The only thing is—you can’t plan the weather. And as soon as I checked in for my flight, my plans were screwed again, and instead of going home for Christmas, it looked like I’d be spending Christmas eve snowed in and all alone at the airport.
When a tall, rugged Irishman offers to distract me, first with chocolate, and then with a drink, and then with… other things… I realize that maybe it’s okay to leave things a little unplanned now and then.
Let it Snow is a standalone holiday novella.
