Showing results by author "Nicole Snow" in All Categories

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.

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.

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?

I inherited a freaking husband. Grandpa's will was a shocker: huge fortune, gorgeous ranch, and the best horse ever. The fine print? Marrying Mr. Grump-alicious. The man who's supposed to protect me from...what, exactly? That's what I hope to find out if Drake Larkin ever talks. I know what I'm in for the first time his glance tears me open. A broody enigma who's large and in charge. A mute who curls my toes when he barks a few words.

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.

He was just a hookup. I wasn't supposed to see him again. He wasn't supposed to be my boss. Or Dad's new business partner. We weren't supposed to keep doing this, night after sheet-clenching, heart-pounding, lip-biting night.

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.

Once, Lucus Shaw was my everything. First kiss. First surrender. First man to promise me a ring, children, a life together. I remember his rogue smirk, his soul stinging kiss, the blistering words that always made him a little dangerous. I gave him my body for one insatiable night. He gave me secrets, heartbreak, and hatred. Friends to lovers to mortal enemies. Our tragic destiny. But I survived. Adapted. Moved on. Fate doesn't care. Luke's back, and I have to pretend we still have a Cinderella romance to save my career.

It was one freaking kiss with a stranger. I wasn't looking for a hero the day Brent Eden charged into my life. He saw a damsel in distress facing humiliation. We played pretend. Swore I was his. Baited sweet chaos. Blew apart everything. My dating disaster? Gone. Our kiss? Electric. Divine. Toe-curling. His mistake? Oh, boy. Dropping the ultimate F-bomb: fiancée. Especially when my gossipy cousin tells the whole family.

A force of nature blew in. His name is Chris Triton. Tattooed god. Moody ex SEAL. Zero filter. Born to drive me bonkers. We barely spoke for 10 minutes before he kissed my soul out. Too fast. Too intense. Too flipping good. Then I found out we'd be sharing the same roof the very next day. Dad marrying his mom squashed our little chemistry experiment instantly. You know, the normal reaction. But Chris doesn't do normal. Or predictable. Or sane.

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?

He's going to kill me when he finds out. I should've left Roman behind after our unforgettable fling two summers ago. I wasn't supposed to end up having his kid, always looking over my shoulder for the last man in the world meant to be a father. But danger has a funny way of betraying a woman's best-kept secrets and reigniting old flames that should've died on a hot summer night.

I've got small-town problems aplenty and zero time for Paxton “Alaska” Charter. Crushing on smoke-show men with caveman vibes can't end well. Sure, he saved my little coffee shop from total ruin once. Yes, my ovaries melt watching single dad of the century with his little boy. Of course, I'd sleep like a baby if I let him work his former SEAL hero magic on my mess. That's not why I'm freaking out. Nobody told me how devastatingly kind Alaska can be. Or the fact that his stubborn heart's even more guarded than mine.

There's a reason he's called Mr. Silver Tongue. Blake Silverton could sweet talk an angel into sin. Fierce small-town fire chief. Rough velvet voice. Drop dead gorgeous. Don't even get me started on the tortured single dad thing. Wintering in Heart's Edge isn't a choice when my van goes kaboom! Neither is gawking at the human bulldozer who keeps charging to my rescue. If only we could stop butting heads. But I'm a healer. What's wrong with offering a grumpasaurus a massage? I'm hardly obsessed.

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.

Accidentally hitched to a dream. Now for the catch.... I didn't even say "I do." One crank call and I'm insta-wife to a tattooed behemoth and mother to his kids. He's paying my idiot boss a fortune for the perfect lie. Because trouble found Miller Rush, and he found me. A rock-hard, overprotective rebel with a cause. Father of the century. Abs wound tighter than his attitude. A broodylicious bull stomping around my house, barking orders. Something's got to give, okay? But it won't be me.

It was one little dare with razor-sharp teeth—work for him. Yes, he's a fire-breathing grump and gazillionaire bachelor. Yes, I just gave him an ego check he'll never forget. Yes, he's still offering me the job dreams are made of. But Cole Lancaster is the stuff of bossy nightmares. Too handsome for real life. Big Coffee kingpin. Guarded papa bear. His precious daughter is the only reason he ever stops grumping for five seconds. I'm sure I can deal with his scowls and cutting glances for one huge payday. Only, sometimes your best assumptions are dead wrong.

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?

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.

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!