Showing results by narrator "Holly Warren" in All Categories

Custom demanded that Prince Urban get a love mark tattooed to the side of his left eye as an infant, just like the rest of his people, but to him, the stupid things have only brought on the scorn of his father, the misery of his siblings, and caused his entire kingdom to go broke from fighting so many wars over the irritating ink stains.

Can an unexplained breakup and ten years of heartache be cured by the romance—and endless buffets—of a tropical cruise? When her sister is left at the altar, small town librarian Zoe Balis jumps at the chance to take the bride’s unused ticket for the honeymoon cruise. But she didn't count on sharing a cabin with the man who broke her heart ten years ago!

I’m the queen of dating disasters - I’ve had more rotten dates than you can shake a long-stemmed rose at. After years of one disappointment after another, I’m beginning to feel like I’ll never say “I do.” So after being dumped one too many times, I do something stupid: I make a pact with my best friend Asher. If neither of us is married by 35, we tie the knot. I’ve got to meet Mr. Right by then, don’t I? But when I take a job redecorating Asher’s bachelor pad, I realize he’s a lot different from the guy I thought he was.

Mackenzie “Kiki” Forbes finds herself in a pickle. Either become her snarky sister’s nanny or move halfway across the country to work as assistant to the stylist of a country music star. Neither job sounds ideal, although bedazzling cowboy boots may be a hell of a lot more interesting than ironing her brother-in-law’s underwear. But life on the road as the errand coffee girl for a sold-out tour leaves much to be desired. That is until Kiki meets her sinfully sexy new boss’ boss.

Sebastian Blackwell isn't only the sexiest man I've ever met. He's also my boss. The way our every interaction is laced with sexual energy makes my already difficult job that much harder. He turns me on so much, I constantly fantasize about him. To the point where I find myself writing at work about what would happen if we had an affair. It's not a big deal, I swear. This is meant to stay at the purely fantasy level. Until he finds it.

Oliver Steele is supposed to be my knight in shining armor. He's tall, handsome, and as cocky as he is rich. With his good looks and charm, no one's going to suspect a thing. No one's going to believe our engagement is fake. But he's taking this thing way too far. The way he wraps his arm around me like I'm his. The way he kisses me and presses his hard body up against mine. I almost believe that it's real. Almost.

One thing I’ve learned this Valentine’s day is that fake fiancés should remain just that: fake. Pretending to be engaged to James Brody, the hot, single London deputy mayor who graces gossip columns, is just a business deal. Nothing more. I’m his appropriately demure fiancée that makes him look like he’s not the playboy the media thinks he is, and he’s my ticket to getting my pushy mum off my back about not being married and producing her two perfect grandchildren. The problem is, I’ve started to enjoy being with James. Then there’s that kiss we shared. Yeah, that.

For years, I’ve loved him. Not that I ever told him, or that he would ever be able to tell. I hid it from him…from everyone including my best friend. Travis Fillmore is my best friend’s brother and the object of my infatuation. He’s also my cohost for our home improvement show and we are zooming to the top right now. Unfortunately, I can’t work with him any more.

It's one thing to be dumped by the huge Hollywood star you thought you were going to marry. It’s quite another to move back to the small town you're both from. As a booby prize for being shown the door by Dex Ryder, everyone is trying to set me up with their son, their nephew, or their long-lost cousin’s gardener. Either that or they’re throwing me pitying looks that say, “You’re a big loser.”

After growing up in Nashville with two musician parents, I promised myself one thing—I would never, ever fall in love with anyone who had anything to do with the music scene. I will take my stable, albeit boring, accountant boyfriend, thank you very much, and live securely ever after. At least, that was the plan. Who knew one ridiculous party where boy band sensation Finn Thatcher showed up would turn my life completely upside down.

Autumn Stratton has it all. Or so she thinks until she catches her two-timing husband with his pants around his ankles. There is much Autumn can forgive but infidelity isn’t one of them. Since she obviously can’t trust her judgment in men, she decides they are only good for one thing.

I hate Charlie Cavendish. Rich. Over-privileged. Smug. The guy’s far too good-looking for his own good, and he’s always got that smirk teasing at the edges of his mouth, telling me what he thinks of me. And now, my worst nightmare has come true. Charles Cavendish has moved into my building, which means I can’t avoid seeing him everywhere I go. He’s always there, judging me, especially when I come in late at night. Hey, I can’t help it if my “single American girl in London” writing gig means I’ve got to check out every new club in town.

Can a spirited, down-to-earth influencer get an uptight hockey player out of his shell? Josh: I am a warrior. That’s been my motto since I recovered from a near-death accident when I was younger. Now, I enjoy my nice, settled life in Dallas playing pro hockey - a boring life is better than being dead. I’m not a party guy or an adventurer; I like my routine and peace and quiet. So, being traded to New York is the worst possible change that could happen. And, meeting unfiltered and fascinating Sara Carrington throws my life into even more chaos.

The words on the page jumbled into a toxic mess my brain refused to comprehend, much less accept. Please consider this letter as a formal request to arrange a paternity test (DNA). I barely remembered Chelsea Airy. That wasn't true - we'd gone out once, and we'd been friends for a while after. But I hadn't heard so much as a peep from her since I'd gotten married. I'd reached out a handful of times, but she'd quit responding and fell off the face of the earth.

I'm studying to be a sex therapist, and I haven't even had sex yet. Which is why I decide that Professor Hanks is going to be the one to take my virginity. I want Professor Hanks to be my dom. Hung Hanks. That's what they call him. All the students know Professor Hanks' reputation since he grew up in Blackwell. Small-town high school football star turned Harvard PhD. Only in town to care for his dying mother. Too good for local girls. I've done my research, and he's the perfect candidate for what I want. Hot, smart, dominant. Did I mention hung?

Noah Grant was my first. He was the guy who went from childhood friend to teenage love. The guy I spent one heady, intoxicating summer with, only to have my heart snapped in two—not by him, but by me. Fast forward 12 years and just when I think I’m finally over Noah, he’s back. Older, wiser, hotter.

One thing that can be said about Quinn Pearson is that she has a knack for doing the wrong thing at the wrong time. Like, the worst time ever. Take her job for instance. One little slip of the tongue using the mother of all swear words while reporting the news, and suddenly she finds herself with over 18 million views on YouTube and her employment in jeopardy. If that wasn’t bad enough, when she meets the man of her dreams, she nearly chokes to death on a powdered sugar donut. Thankfully for Quinn, the dashing Brit, Henry, finds her near death experience quite charming.

It was just a teeny, tiny lie we told the loan officer. “Together? Yes, we’re together.” Now, Clarissa and I have to play like we’re engaged. She’s doing me a huge favor - the bank won’t loan to me unless I have a partner. Clarissa’s got her own requirements for holding up her end of the bargain, though. She wants benefits. And I mean more than just free margaritas on Saturday nights. She’s heard about my "special ability", and not the fact I make the best martini in town. So we make an agreement: no feelings, just sex. Really, really hot sex.

After a disastrous family Thanksgiving, all I wanted was to avoid anything holly and jolly this year, so an unexpected business trip seemed like the perfect escape plan...until I landed smack-dab in the middle of a freaking winter wonderland, otherwise known as Carole Cove, Montana. It’s merrier and brighter than the North Pole. The town even comes with its own Mr. Holiday - Noel Holiday, that is. Not only is he holly and jolly, but he’s hotter than the lattes he sells at his café. And for some reason, he would love nothing more than to share the magic of the season with me.

When runaway bride Grace Giordano needs somewhere to regroup, groomsman Jaime Dupree offers her a guest house on his ranch. It's no skin off his nose—she's only in town a few days. Besides, between his daughter and his professional hockey team, he's got his hands full. Surely, their paths won't cross. But when Grace gets the opportunity to run a food truck at the town's annual music festival, she decides to stay all summer long. The singing baker's a hit—at the festival and on the ranch.