Showing results by author "Shari J. Ryan" in All Categories

I just wanted an easy summer job.... That didn’t happen. Now, I’m in a living nightmare as I work alongside this monster of a man with mesmerizing emerald eyes that look at me inappropriately every time I see him. To add insult to injury, he has a tan I just want to lick, and a butt worth drooling over every time he purposefully walks by me. But, he's an asshat, and looks are everything. I mean, aren't. LOOKS. ARE. NOT. EVERYTHING. Why do I have to keep reminding myself of this? This is a story of little restraint, too much desire, questionable actions, and the best sex I've ever had.

When my life changed in that smoky second, confusion rained down around me like sparks from a fire. But yet, I found myself falling for a sexy stranger I met in a dark park, and blatant lies I didn't know existed culminated into unfortunate truths.

Blytheville, South Carolina - have you heard of it? Neither had I, until today. It’s in the middle of nowhere, and I’ve been given the ultimatum of either living on the street in Boston or accepting a job transfer down to this blank spot on the map. On day one of my new Southern lifestyle, I land myself in the hospital and meet Austin, one of the two nurses on staff. I would consider this guy absolutely gorgeous if I were into the whole tanned, smoky blue eyes, and messy sex-hair look, but I’m...not. Okay, I’m lying. If Austin wasn’t my type before, he definitely is now.

Life isn't a game. Life isn't an empty bottle of bourbon spinning on a warehouse floor as I hold my breath. I feel weak when others perceive me as strong. I'm passionate though I appear to hate the world around me. I see beauty in all ugly things. I feel pain when I laugh. No one knows the truth. Well, no one knew the truth until now. Somehow, Brody Pearson understands more about me than anyone else in my life. The severed connection should mean something significant, but I don't know if I can forget all my self-proclaimed promises.

They warned me the first few days of motherhood would be exhausting, but I’m so deliriously happy, I don’t mind one bit. Smiling, I glance at the baby blue blanket I crocheted. I’ve never knitted a thing in my life, but I was determined to make my newborn his very first blanket—a one-of-a-kind welcome-home gift. I tug the rocker closer to me, unable to resist peeking at my beautiful baby boy. I pull back the blanket. It feels like my heart flatlines. He’s not here. Sweat beads on my forehead, and my limbs turn to ice. “Where is he?” I cry, my whole body trembling, the wind knocked out of me.