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Audiobooks Narrated by Neva Nevarre
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From Wall Street Journal and USA Today best-selling author M. Robinson and number-one New York Times best-selling author Rachel Van Dyken comes a full-length, stand-alone romantic suspense novel.
Trust.
Loyalty.
Family.
The tangled web of mafia life.
We grew up together. Me, Eden, my brother Tristian.
He was always the safe bet, the sure thing, the good guy.
And me? Well, I was the Casanova, the killer who flirted with anyone and anything, breaking Eden’s heart again and again.
We both loved her.
Mind.
Body.
Soul.
Until I gifted her to my brother as if she meant nothing, when she meant everything to me.
Tristian was safer.
Better.
Could give her the life I never would be able to.
But things changed.
We changed.
My only goal was to protect her, making her hate me in return. Except once my brother wasn’t standing between us anymore, I decided…
It was my turn to claim what had always been mine to begin with.
Francine is stunned when she discovers she’s been married—for the last ten years—to Benny, her surly, nerdy frenemy she worked with one summer in Vegas.
How in the world did they end up married? Though there was a certain drunken night….
She tracks Benny down, sure he’ll be as shocked about the marriage as she is, sure he’ll be happy to dissolve their union ASAP so she can get the documents she desperately needs.
She's surprised to find that Benny is now a cold, wolfish billionaire. And yes, he’ll sign the paperwork…for a price: she has to spend the next three weeks playing his adoring wife.
“My heart is overflowing with happy and blissful feels. My top romcom read of 2020!” ~PP’s Bookshelf
I may be a shy letter carrier, but when my beloved apartment building is threatened by a mysterious and reclusive billionaire, I’m willing to push the envelope.
I’m going to march right up to Malcolm Blackberg’s fortress of fierceness and deliver a cease-and-desist notice he can’t refuse.
Except as soon as I get inside his gilded doors, things go sideways—I’m mistaken for Malcolm’s court-ordered emotional intelligence coach, as if I’m acting out a wacky postal carrier cosplay.
They drag me in, a sacrificial lamb for the big bad.
Make that big, smolderingly sexy bad.
So I make up a lesson involving a story about our building. He doesn’t seem happy. Can he tell that I have no idea what I'm doing?
Before I know it, I’m flying around the country, up close and personality testing the most devilishly exasperating man I’ve ever met.
He’s scary for sure…but the way he sometimes looks at me turns my knees to jelly, and has me writing love letters to his gorgeous eyes, his mouthwatering smile, his impressive…package.
Our coaching sessions are getting hot-hot-hot, but I can’t let my guard down. If he ever finds out I’m a first-class fake, I’ll lose everything I’ve ever loved in this world!
*****A standalone romantic comedy audiobook produced by Blue Nose Audio****
Never beg. Never grovel. Nice guys wind up in the friend zone.
I wrote the book on scoring with hot women - literally.
I'm the patron saint of players, the Tony Robbins to clueless guys.
My rules are rock-solid and my men's style empire spans the globe.
Then she walks in.
My high school nemesis.
The one who inspired the most important rule of all--Love ruins a man. Just walk away.
Were my rules made to broken? Or are they about to break me?
I’m no Prince Charming, and the last thing I need is a Cinderella.
My instructions were simple: get me a fake fiancée who’s not my type at all. Have her on my jet Monday morning, dressed for a yacht vacation.
I need a woman believable enough to convince a certain client that I’ve changed my playboy ways…yet too annoying to tempt me—no emotional entanglements, thank you very much. This is business only.
If she’s unfazed by my looks and wealth, all the better.
Should be easy. Right?
Apparently not, because my people go and hire Tabitha. My hairdresser.
What were they thinking? Yes, I said annoying, but I didn’t mean her, the most aggravating woman in the world.
Tabitha is sunshiny. She has a pet hamster. She loves Hello Kitty, and she gets under my skin like nobody else.
As if that’s not bad enough, the minute we step on deck, she thinks that certain people on the yacht are up to something shady—based completely on her soap opera knowledge.
She won’t listen when I tell her she’s being ridiculous.
But as the days go by, I find that we’re actually having fun. And our fake kisses are heating up. And suddenly her wild theories aren’t sounding so strange after all…
OMG - the cute little dog I adopted turns out to be a billionaire Maltese! That's right, my tiny dog just inherited giant corporation!
I'm Vicky, the dog whisperer. (Not really, but that's what my elderly neighbor says whenever I walk her dog, Smuckers.)
When she dies, she surprises everybody by leaving a corporation worth billions to Smuckers...and she leaves Smuckers to me.
Suddenly I go from running my Etsy store to sitting in an elegant Wall Street boardroom with Smuckers in my lap. And my neighbor's son, Henry Locke, aka New York's most eligible bachelor, glaring across the table at me.
Rumor has it Henry's a business genius who's as talented in the bedroom as he is in the boardroom. Sure, he's gorgeous. Sex-in-a-seven-thousand dollar suit. But...
He's arrogant and infuriating.
He refuses to listen to me when I insist I didn't con his mother.
He thinks he can bully me, buy me off, control me, even seduce me.
Henry may have the women of Manhattan eating out of the palm of his hand, but I'm so over entitled rich guys who think they own the world.
No way will his wicked smile be charming ME out of my panties.
His wicked...devastating...impossible-to-resist smile.
Oh well, who needs panties anyway?
*A sexy enemies-to-lovers romantic comedy standalone!*
When my manager assigns me the task of finding a new wake up call service for our CEO, I think, how hard can this be?
Answer: practically impossible. It turns out that no wake-up call company in the world will take him on as a client. They've all had enough of his surly personality.
So in an effort not to lose my job, I secretly start making the calls myself, every day at 4:30 am sharp. OMG yes you read that right-four freaking thirty in the morning.
Confession: I'm not the nicest wake-up-call girl at that hour. Hello! Who wakes up before the roosters are even crowing? Luckily he doesn't seem to mind my get-your-ass-out-of-bed attitude.
Day by day we're becoming closer, and the calls start turning hot, like pay-by-the-minute hot and oh-so-wild. Snuggled under the covers with the moonlight streaming in the windows, we divulge our secrets to each other, but the one thing that he can never find out is that the sexy vixen who wakes him up every morning is just the lowly assistant who wears frumpy dresses. I can only imagine his disappointment.
Now he wants to take me out on a date and he's scouring Manhattan to find me. He's an overachieving billionaire bent on a mission. How much longer can I keep up this charade?
