Love, marriage…and then a family. It’s the same old story. If only it could be ours. Well, here's a reality check for you: life's remixing that old song that goes “first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in the baby carriage”. You know the one. Me and my real life Mr. Darcy are happily grooving to that tune—right up until things take a sharp left turn. It seems for us, creating a mini Darcy is like baking a soufflé without a recipe—a very tricky business, and so far our attempts are fizzling out faster than a New Year's resolution. So, I declare war. It’s what ...

Making a pact with my friends to marry the next guy I date is a huge mistake. You see I’ve given up on love. I got burned and came second best, and now I’m over it. Dating, men, looking for The One, all of it. I’m done. And even if I hadn’t given up on love, I have an impressive list that shows how terrible I am at choosing the right guy. The emotionally unavailable ones. The ones who don’t choose me back. The ones who steal my shoes (true story). But then Marcus Hann walks into the Cozy Cottage Café and I forget all the reasons. Because oh, my. Handsome, funny, charming, and ...

What do you do when you find yourself falling for the wrong guy on a reality TV dating show? Welcome to my world. I'm Phoebe Wilson, ultimate hopeless romantic. I mean, I've devoured Pride and Prejudice so many times that even Jane Austen would give me a high-five. So, when the chance to be on the reality TV show “Dating Mr. Darcy” popped up, it was a total no brainer for me. It’s Mr. Darcy, people! The embodiment of romantic perfection. But there’s a hitch. My heart has taken a detour to the guy standing in the wings. That's right, I'm falling for Mr. Darcy’s best friend, Mr. ...

Am I facing a second chance at love with my high school crush, or setting myself up for another round of heartbreak? Alex Walsh is my worst nightmare. He's the full package of handsome and suave, the heartthrob of my high school days. The memory of our kiss hasn't faded, despite the humiliation that followed. Now I'm stuck working with him, showcasing his photographs—and inadvertently, his charm—at my boss's gallery. But I've turned over a new leaf. No more kissing toads. My friends and I made a pact to find Mr. Right, not Mr. Right Back to High School. Even if his photographs and his ...

Taking the bull by the horns is child's play compared to ruling Malveaux. Yet here I am, a Texas girl turned princess, swapping tacos for a tiara. Then I meet Europe's most eligible bachelor, the irritatingly handsome Prince Alexander, and accidentally deck him instead of curtsying. Oops. I'd feel bad if he wasn't such a self-satisfied jerk. Now, I'm racing against a royal clock that ticks with the urgency of a preening peacock, trying not to let down my newfound country or my own wild heart. Alexander?