Showing results by author "K.M. Neuhold" in All Categories

I definitely overestimated my own handyman skills when I bought this fixer-upper. I have to say, the view from my new place is worth it though. Especially around seven o'clock every morning when my big, furry bear of a neighbor drinks his coffee shirtless on his back porch. He's dedicated to the bear thing too. Growly, grumpy, and as it turns out, he really likes belly rubs. Am I a sucker for a touch starved grump? Yes. Am I sorry about it? Absolutely not.

Lewis. Clingy, needy, Too Much. Just a few choice words from men who never deserved me anyway. I'm not going to make the same mistakes again though. I plan to ride the motorcycle hottie of my dreams just until we both get bored. Besides, who has time for anything but a quick fling when the jerks at the tattoo shop next door insist on doing everything they can to annoy the hell out of me with some stupid prank war?

The last thing I want is another relationship or another broken heart. All I need are my bees and the occasional hookup to scratch the itch. Okay, maybe meeting up with my hot contractor weekly is a little more than occasional. And maybe the way I’m starting to feel about the guy I’ve been anonymously chatting with online should concern me. But CaulkyAF doesn’t want to meet, and Cole doesn’t want anything serious, so what’s the worst that could happen?

Is there such thing as love at first bar fight? I may be small and pretty, but what I lack in intimidation factor, I make up for in violence. I made a vow five years ago that the motorcycle club responsible for my brother’s death would pay the price, and I’m finally ready to collect. May God have mercy on the men who hurt my brother, because I don’t plan to.

Forcing Salvatore Moretti to marry me at gunpoint isn’t the craziest thing I've ever done... I hate being desperate, being scared. It's a filthy, helpless feeling. I'd much rather be enraged, violent… unhinged. Salvatore watches me dance and calls me Angioletto, his little angel. He doesn't know the demons that haunt me. He's too blinded by my beauty to see the blood on my hands. Then again, he's a mafia capo, so maybe the blood wouldn't bother him anyway. My past is like fire licking at my heels, ready to consume me. But Sal won't let that happen, he’ll protect me. He has to.

A drunken wedding to a man who already rejected me once? Check. A hefty bet about how long it will last? Check. My feisty new husband, determined to make our friends pay up? Double check. I've never managed to make a real relationship last nearly a year, and there's no way Daniel will stick around long enough to win this bet.

When I was 16, I was afflicted with a terrible curse...I fell in love with my straight best friend. I never thought I'd move past my feelings for Nash and find someone who could love me in return - until the day a gorgeous marine plopped himself down in my chair and asked me to ink him. I'm falling fast for Zade, but my feelings for Nash are still very real. When life starts getting complicated and Nash speaks the words I never thought I'd hear, the only thing I want is for us to find a way to make this work...together.

I didn’t know the guy I picked up in the bar last night was Hero’s son. To be fair, he didn’t even know he had a son until today. I guess we’re all just scrambling to put on our poker faces. Keeping my hands off of Milo is hard enough thanks to his lickable dimple, flirty smiles, and virgin skin. But I swear this has to be a test. Why else would Hero insist that his son come to live with me? And why is it so hard for Milo to just keep his clothes on already?

It took me over 35 years to admit to myself that I’m gay, another seven to find the courage to say it out loud to anyone else, and exactly 30 seconds to develop a massive crush on my daughter’s music teacher. It’s really not my fault. Have you even seen those cute bowties he wears? After everything it’s taken to get here, am I going to work up the nerve to come out to my ex-wife and my best friends?

When half your face is covered in a big, blotchy birthmark, you get used to the staring and the whispers. You get used to feeling unwanted. Until he walks into my bar.... Tall, gorgeous, and all kinds of out of place. And the way he looks at me ain’t like no way I've ever seen before.

Casual fun with my emotionally stunted, overgrown frat boy roommate slash co-worker should be perfect, right? Shep seems to be just as allergic to commitment as I am to emotions, but that doesn't mean we don't need our stroker rods serviced, if you catch my drift. Now if he'll just stop looking at me with those dopey puppy dog eyes while I'm elbow deep in a diesel engine, and making my stomach flip with that smile of his, that would be great…

I never thought a night out could change everything. All I wanted was to dance, drink, maybe take a cute guy home for a night of fun. I met the guy, but the night ended as a nightmare. Screams and blood and tragedy haunt my dreams. I'm alive and I owe it all to the gorgeous marine who refused to leave me for dead. But how can I start a new relationship when I'm not even sure who I am anymore?

I feel like I've been fighting my whole life, and tapping out has never been an option. I can live with owing money to the Morettis. I can even live with the constant guilt that my brother is the one paralyzed in a hospital bed while I live his dream. What I can't live with is Elio Moretti, second in command to the infamous crime family, showing up to all my fights, sitting in the front row, watching me like he can't look away, and barging into the locker room to patch up my wounds and invade my space.

He hated me from the second he laid eyes on me, and I don't have the first clue why.... But, if he wants to hate me, I'm happy to give him a few reasons: mowing the lawn at dawn on the weekend, leaving garbage cans in front of his driveway, renting a petting zoo for my backyard...making a list of ways to drive him crazy is half the fun.

Five years ago, the military returned me home short a leg with scars covering one side of my body. I learned to live with it, I built a new life for myself, and I found a way to love the new body I was given…there’s just one thing I can’t accept. I have no right to want someone as vibrant and beautiful as Nolan, not when a very vital part of my anatomy doesn’t always work anymore. Alden can’t seem to stop meddling between the two of us, and I hate to admit it, but there’s something about him that manages to fix what’s broken in me.

Between running a garage full of beefed-up gear-head mechanics and bailing my idiot brother out of trouble every other week, the last thing I have time for is a relationship. I’ve tried it too many times, and the ridiculous reasons I always find to end it have become a running joke around the garage. But I’ve learned my lesson. No. More. Boyfriends. I don’t care how many times Porter falls asleep drunk in my bed or how cute he looks covered in oil smears while I teach him how to fix up the vintage car he has rusting away in his garage; I’m not going to fall for him.

I’ve been living under storm clouds since my honorable discharge, but Julian’s the sun. I’ve tried everything to deal with my PTSD, but nothing seemed to help. So when my brother suggests a service dog, I figure I don’t have anything to lose. The last thing I expect is for the dog to come with a cheerful, quirky trainer I can’t get out of my head. I’m too screwed up for love, but a chance to explore a side of myself I didn’t realize existed until recently is too good to pass up.

Love, pain, and ink. The men of Heathens Ink Tattoo Studio have a lot to work through, but they always do it together. From Ashes - I didn't have anything to live for, until a kind stranger pulled me back from the brink. With physical and emotional scars, I have nowhere to turn now but to that same stranger who saved my life without realizing it. But as my feelings for Adam grow, will I ever be anything other than a surrogate for the brother he couldn’t save? Am I even worthy of his love?

It started with an anonymous post by someone who didn't want to live anymore. I read it over and over again, unable to get it out of my mind. What if my brother Johnny had posted something like this before he'd taken his own life? Would someone have been able to save him? I've been living a lie for 16 long years, and I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to keep it up. And when a beautiful, broken man walks into my tattoo shop asking for a second chance at life, I know I'll never be able to turn him away.

Sex has never been my main priority. Not what people expect to hear from someone who’s been head camera man for the single best studio in the kind of industry I work in. I thought I’d seen it all working for the Ballsy Boys, but helping to build the Kinky Boys from the ground up seems like it’s going to be an eye opening experience. A man has never turned my head before, so why can’t I stop checking out Daddy? Sex might not be the height of excitement for me, but watching subs kneel for their Daddies certainly has me wondering....