Mostrando resultados por autor "Nicole Snow" en Todas las categorías

Cinderella had it easy. I'm lying to millions of people, and it's all Silas's fault. Yes, that Silas. Billionaire, prince, scandals galore, downright royal bastard - everything that screams run. If only it weren't for his rock-hard edges and wild tattoos, tempting anything female on all seven continents. But I don't care about his looks. Really. Our deal is simple. He needs a pretty little lie, a wife to cover up his dirty deeds. I need a fortune to buy the treatment that just might save my father's life.

I just ran into the girl who got away. Holding a hate letter addressed to me. And now we're stranded in an elevator. Last time we kissed, it was final. I wasn't supposed to see her again. Not in this city. On this elevator. The moment it craps out, stranding us overnight with animal cravings and fencing lies. Last time we kissed, how could we know our next might truly, madly, beautifully restore us?

Forget the flowers and tender kisses. Tomorrow I'm marrying a man who took a bullet for me, and I don't have a choice. Did I say he's an outlaw? Asphalt has slayed more men on the road and taken more women between the sheets than I can ever count. He's arrogant and savage. So why the hell can't I keep my lips off his when he gives me that smirk and whispers filthy things in my ear?

My fresh start turned into a dumpster fire. Awesome new job. Small town heaven. Friendly faces galore. Then I strolled into my new home and found the unspeakable. Just when I'm sure it can't get worse, I'm “rescued” by a man who makes me see red for miles. Enter Lucas Graves. A bossy grump with a badge who's sworn to keep me safe. He rocks the scary-hot vibe, he reads too much, and he never misses a chance to give me crap for being a nerdy little cactus who mouths back. Not the type of man I'd go for in my right mind. Definitely not the type I should keep trading bruising kisses with.

Nothing is off limits for daddy's step daughter. Peter King dreams of seeing his sweet young woman in total bondage: naked, lactating, and breeding for him. Taking it slow and soft isn't part of Peter's vocabulary. Unknown to fertile Lacy, her daddy has big plans for her. Enormous plans she'll do anything to be a part of. They've both had all they can take of her mother's wicked ways, and a new life calls in the wilds along the northern shore. One long drive brings them to their new home.

I never knew what hit me. Rex stormed into my little world with two adorable twin boys and no apologies. Bearish. Short-fused. Consuming. Huge. Torturously gorgeous. Leave-your-heart-in-pieces wrong. Did I mention HUGE? He's instant trouble the second he checks into our lodge and my overprotective grandpa hires him. Then I catch him staring with that knowing ache in his eyes. I forget what trouble even means. He also needs a nanny. Sold.

Trust me, I'm not falling for a human porcupine. I don't do older men with baggage a mile long. Billionaires? Nope, I'm Miss Independence, thank you very much. And when a man with the emotional intelligence of a cucumber decides to boss me around? Hoo boy. Shepherd Foster and I are utterly incompatible. He still can't get over the day we met when I questioned Mr. High and Mighty's judgment. He's also holding the key—and the moolah—to my animal rescue dreams. I'm only putting up with this torture for the cute otters, I swear.

Pinch me. I can't believe I'm working under him. Dr. Gray Caldwell. Hottest, swooniest, stormiest bachelor ever. Insanely tall. Unfair perfection. Intimidating abs and X-ray glares. Doc puts the animal back in veterinarian. My dream job should be all puppies and kittens. Turns out, my new boss hates three things: 1. Small town drama. Baby, we've got tons. 2. Pets in distress - and he's their hero every time. 3. Anybody poking around his past. Like me. Oh, crud. But how could I resist the best mystery in Heart's Edge?

Marshal Howard is a death wish wrapped in mystery. Cold, rude, insanely overprotective single dad. Everyone in our little town warned me to stay far, far away. I didn't listen. I answered the castoff's nanny ad because no one else would. I got too close. I saw through his vicious reputation. He's a man who's turning my heart inside out, making me a fool. If it was just the bad blood with him and my family, maybe we'd work through this. Maybe we'd find paradise. Just me, him, and that adorable little girl. But surprises come in threes. Like the lines on the pregnancy test.

From Wall Street Journal best-selling author Nicole Snow - old promises and jaw-dropping secrets collide in a small town love-storm. A punished mountain of a man retakes the girl who hasn't told him he's a dad. Surprise!

I'm on my last nerve. And I'm supposed to marry him to save my skin. Riker Woods might be God's hottest contradiction. Perfectly damaged. Stubborn soul. Moth to flame gaze. Single dad. Fierce protector. Kind...when he thinks no one's looking. Then along came little old me.

You know that awkward moment when your lava-hot boss says “marry me”? Not for love. Not for real. Not without a mammoth payoff. Of course, this fortune comes with a ginormous snag - Ward Brandt. Call me bananas. I must be short of a full bushel rejecting Chicago's finest billionaire. Who knew he was my boss when he crashed my worst date ever? Oh, but he found out. He swore I wasn't fit for Brandt Ideas, chewed me up, and spat me back out. I vowed I'd prove him wrong - and sabotage a metric ton of his coffee.

Eleanor Lark is an upbeat illustrator plagued by headaches and unruly strawberry blonde hair. After a grueling cross-country flight, she blacks out cold. The brooding stranger who sat next to her grumping his way through the flight catches Elle as she falls. Neither expects the sweet chaos that happens next. August Marshall is stonehearted, insanely rich, and a master of corporate cleanups with major baggage of his own. The last man alive who needs a media frenzy after his airport heroics steal headlines. But August has a plan—ask Elle to marry him so their trouble disappears.

His proposal came in a little black envelope with 13 unlucky words: You still owe me that favor, doll, and I'm cashing in. Marry me. In a normal life, I'd never get hitched to Calvin Randolph. Not with his heart-stopping blue eyes, infamous player reputation, and an ego bigger than the part of his anatomy he loves boasting about the most. Been there, done that. All except the last part, which he's left to my shameful imagination for seven years apart. Of course, the fake fiancée contract I just signed is anything but normal.

He pushes buttons I didn't even know I had. Gabe freaking Barin. Fire to my ice. Walking mountain. Growly, alpha, and achingly kind. Last man on earth I want in my life. But I've got three heaping problems: 1. My baby niece is missing. 2. Some psycho just slashed up my car. 3. My boss made Gabe my personal protector. I'm a big girl in a tiny package. Sharp claws. Perfectly capable. So I'll ignore the jaw-dropping banter Goliath drops. I'll ignore how his Louisiana drawl melts damn near everything. I'll ignore how he's five times my size.

Hell always screams into my life on two wheels, so why the hell does he look like heaven? Rabid's nothing like the other vicious thugs in the Grizzlies Motorcycle Club. When I see the dark ink dancing on his stunning body, I almost believe he's here to save me instead of just seduce me. But I won't be fooled again. All the club brings is ruin, and they're back to give me more.

Never, ever fall for your brother's hot older friend. I flunked the test the instant I laid eyes on Landon Strauss. Tall. Ripped. Commanding. Irresistibly alpha. He gave a damn like no one else did. His soul-searing eyes saw me, not just a nerd girl next door. I had my idol, my destiny, and names for our future kids picked.

Signing on as a company driver for Brandt Ideas felt like a dream. Big-girl salary. Stellar benefits. Glorious people - minus one. Nicholas Brandt was put on Earth to drive me insane. Of course, he's my boss man. He spent the first month mistaking me for a dude. Then he “apologized” with the grace of a drunken moose. A perfect grump with a brutal reputation. A heart-thief sculpted like a fallen angel. A master at making me question all of my life decisions. Why is it always the terrible ones who make a girl tingle?

I loved her like a sister forever ago. Before life served us tragedy with a bitter cherry on top. Before I learned love isn't a damn fairy tale. Before I became a single dad. Protecting my little girl is all I still care about. Kendra is my lifeline if she'll just play along. Her job is easy. Wear my ring. Turn my scowl into a family man's smile. Help save my daughter from a scorched earth custody fight. She gets the Cinderella treatment in return. My money, my mansion, my reputation. Simple. Painless. Mutual.

Accidentally married to a human stallion. And I can't even remember our wedding. It's awkward, okay? I didn't plan on waking up hitched to Hubby of the Century. Or one little misadventure erasing every memory of us. No sweet nothings. No ugly cry vows. No flipping honeymoon. But every time I see Flint Calum, I wonder. How did I get so lucky? Let's forget all six-foot-something of his oh-so-bad superdad self. His flashing eyes and SEAL-perfected whip of a body aren't why I'm dizzy.