Showing results by author "Alina" in All Categories

In a different life, under a different name, Razia Khan was raised to be the crown prince of Nizam, the most powerful kingdom in Daryastan. Born with the soul of a woman, she ran away at a young age to escape her father’s hatred and live life true to herself. Among the hijras of Bikampur, Razia finds sisterhood and discovers a new purpose in life. By day she’s one of her dera’s finest dancers and by night its most profitable thief. But when her latest target leads her to cross paths with Arjun Agnivansha, prince of Bikampur, it is she who has something stolen.

He runs his own business and coaches Little League. She drives a minivan, and she'd be lost without her trusty BlackBerry. They go on date nights. Their kids attend public schools, play sports, and take music lessons. They live in a roomy house in the 'burbs. They're about as mainstream as families come. They're also polygamists. The Dargers move the conversation away from child brides, Warren Jeffs, and the FLDS to more mainstream polygamists who willingly enter into plural relationships as adults.

In my defense, I never claimed to be professional.... At least that’s my excuse for why I mistook a billionaire for a waiter, made off-color comments, and accidentally dumped a plate of food all over him. Embarrassing myself is a daily occurrence, just like my unpaid bill notices. But being in a wedding instead of planning one is not. I shall live vicariously through this high-end wedding and forget about the rent payments I’ve missed, the fact that my tiny apartment has no hot water, and that I’m about to be evicted anyway so it doesn’t even matter, anyway! Yay!

I have no alternatives—I have to throw myself to Carl Svensson’s mercy like a wretched Victorian romance heroine in order to save my dog. I wish all I had to do was lounge around a haunted mansion in a pretty dress. Instead, Carl is forcing me to run outside in the morning, clean my apartment, and finally do something about my credit card debt. Yes, I am side-eyeing all of this. Carl’s in for a shock of his own, though. I’m a free-spirited, art-loving girl with tattoos, multicolored hair, and piercings. An uptight, suit-wearing investment banker is not going to change me.

Bullies never get what’s coming to them. No, I didn’t put poison in their food - I am a jam maker, and food is sacred. But I did plot the most epic plan of revenge. I needed to get one over on the biggest baddest high school bully and prove that I wasn’t the awkward pushover anymore, just like Weston wasn’t the obnoxious teenager anymore. Now, he was a powerful billionaire. Though he’s taller, sexier, bigger, I need to stay on my guard. I know men like Weston don’t really change. Or did he?

My butt pads are sliding under my shape wear, I had to starve to fit in this dress, and the last place on earth I want to be is on a date with Walker Svensson.

The Maxine Hotel was supposed to be mine. I invested my meager savings into the upkeep. I slept in a freezing-cold attic like Cinderella, but with way more wine. Then Mike Svensson swaggers in with his billions and his bad attitude, steals the hotel from me, and starts bossing me around like he owns the place. My boss is going down. But he’s harder to get rid of than I thought. Snack-addicted raccoons, angry squatters, and ghosts - nothing seems to faze him. It’s time to bring out the big guns - I have two of them strapped to my chest!

Armed with comfy pants, overpriced coffee, and a highly anxious emotional-support corgi, I prepare to face him. Corporate boss. Villain. Salinger Svensson. I step into his office. His perfect mouth twists into a sneer. There is no heart of gold beneath that suit, just a big black pit. He’s a shark in the frothy waters of high-stakes finance. He might be the archetypal-asshole CEO, causing all in his path to quake in fear, but he’s never had to face down a basic bitch in her thirties.

Welcome to life as a wedding dressmaker for the rich and entitled of Manhattan. I’ve seen it all - from the most spoiled brides to the most egotistical Wall Street bros. The worst? Mark Holbrook. Billionaire. Arrogant. Knockout sexy. Certifiable jerk. He hates weddings, and I hate him.

The Thanksgiving turkey is still warm, and I’m already up to my eyeballs in debt from my failed business. To make matters worse, my knight in flannel never appeared—you know, the guy, the one who was tall, dark, and plaid, who had a friendly yellow lab and a truck and sold firewood, the one who showed the big-city heroine the true meaning of love and Christmas. Yeah, he did not come rescue me.

Chris Winchester is a billionaire with serious trust issues, and I am a photographer trying to survive in the world of high-end weddings. And the billionaire’s penthouse is about to be marriage and a murder if he doesn’t stop hitting his snooze button a thousand bazillion times in the morning, while I’m trying to work and get my life back on track.

Nashquitten, MA, is a decaying coastal enclave that not even tourist season can revive, full of locals who have run the town’s industries for generations. When a young woman dies at a house party, the circumstances around her death suspiciously unclear, the tight-knit community is shaken. As a mother grieves her daughter, a teacher her student, a best friend her confidante, the events around the tragedy become a lightning rod: blame is cast, secrets are buried deeper.

After the heartbreaking loss of her mother and a cruel attack by her drunken father, Ella Parker decides that dishonesty is fine when it serves her needs. Ella escapes her luxurious but lonely life and meets an eccentric ship surgeon who allows her to assist him during a surgery. Compelled by Ella's intelligence and interest in medicine, the doctor prepares her for a medical career, but there's a catch: in early nineteenth century England, women are not accepted into universities. To fulfil her dream of becoming a doctor, Ella must disguise herself as a young man.

In my perfect world, it would always be winter and never Christmas. I despise the holiday. I hate carols, shopping, and pretending to be a perfect family. I walked away from my family, or rather, they walked away from me. My heart is like ice. See it creeping up the walls. Oh, wait, no, that’s royal icing.

I turn weird and awkward around attractive men. I'm a nervous sweater, and when Archer walked into my art cafe that night, he was making me soaking wet. He was stupidly attractive - which caused me to go into excruciating detail about my sweating problem, insult what he had under his fig leaf, and imply I was running a brothel. My career as an artist was a joke. I was desperately trying to live the #bossbabe life after I couldn't hack it as an artist in New York City and moved back to my small hometown. Now my business is failing. But hey, suffering is inspirational, right?

Rules are meant to be broken. Except for one: Women can't get enough peonies. Even the girl in front of me in line is admiring the peonies in my hand. While I need these particular flowers for my latest plot, I'll still give Meghan the biggest, thickest bouquet I can find. It's flattering how much she wants my peonies. And I don't mind personally delivering.

A new virus descended on the human species in 2019 wreaking unprecedented havoc. Nearly two years into the pandemic, the crucial mystery of the origin of SARS-CoV-2 is not only unresolved but has deepened. In this uniquely insightful book, a scientist and a writer join forces to try to get to the bottom of how a virus whose closest relations live in bats in subtropical southern China somehow managed to begin spreading among people more than 1,500 kilometers away in the city of Wuhan.

Momma’s gonna have herself a very merry Christmas revenge. Swapping the salt and sugar so his Christmas cookies are ruined? Be still, my shriveled little heart. Spying on him so I can gather recon to ruin his holidate? Damn, I forgot how ripped his chest was. Sneaking down his chimney to steal all the presents under his tree? Amateur hour. Until I get caught....

When the townspeople of Harrogate almost riot over the Christmas décor thievery committed by the chair of the Elf on the Shelf Committee, I know I’m not going to survive the holiday season unless drastic action is taken. Biddy Jefferson turning up dead in my Christmas market stall is not exactly the type of drastic measure I had in mind. With no alibi and a town obsessed with pinning the murder on me, I have to clear my name. This is on top of planning the upcoming holiday ball, dealing with quirky stall owners in the Christmas market, and corralling confused tourists.

The only thing we have in common is that we’re both tall. He wears bespoke suits; I wear flats with holes in them. He runs a big shot investment firm; I’m trying to start my own company with only bubble gum and circus peanuts. He likes to show up at my horrible dates and ruin them; I…pretended I hated when he did that but secretly was thrilled even though it was a little young adult fiction.