Showing results by narrator "Jacob Morgan" in All Categories

The furniture district is my personal hell. I don’t know my ass from an ottoman. But when a hot designer comes to my rescue, I realize my problems are bigger than the house I’m trying to furnish.

The Game of Love is a collection of four sports romances with heart, humor, and heat from four bestselling romance authors.

A bet turned into a disaster. Sebastian Weaver is the star quarterback and the college’s heartthrob. Rich. Handsome. Bastard. Everyone’s attention flocked toward him, and all the girls dreamed of being with him. Not me. At least, not until he made a move on me. See, I thought I was stronger than Sebastian’s charms. I thought I could survive being his target. I thought wrong. Little did I know that he will make my most twisted fantasies come true. Fantasies I didn’t know existed...

In the beginning, there was Savannah Shaw. Teasing me with a mischievous, merciless grin by day. Crawling through my window with tear-stained cheeks by night. I was ordered to avoid her. Lectured on her misdeeds. Forbidden from seeing her. But my need to protect her was innate. So natural I never questioned it. So visceral I couldn’t fight it.

She’d always been my destiny. The woman whose life was tied to mine. I just hadn’t planned on falling in love and being forced to choose between my vows and my soul. No matter how deep my connection to her ran, I had a greater purpose I was meant to serve. And now that she was carrying the Harbinger of the Apocalypse–the result of our passion–I had to get her away from the rest of them.

Moving to a new town to start college, where I can try to be normal. Or at least pretend I am. I’m willing to fake it, because I’m tired of trying to get better. Tired of spilling my guts to doctors and therapists to understand why I’ve heard voices since I was a child.

He’s a hockey player, she’s an intern. Well really, she’s the league’s commissioner’s daughter. But the way she looks at him is probably illegal in several states.

Three unforgettable full-length steamy, suspenseful, small-town romance novels from NYT and USA Today bestselling author A.L. Jackson....

I wasn’t supposed to be on that roof on Valentine’s Day. Neither was Kellan Marchetti, the school’s designated freak. We met on the verge of ending our lives. Somehow, the tattered strings of our tragedies tangled and tightened into an unlikely bond. We decided not to take the plunge and agreed to check on each other every Valentine’s Day until school ended. Same time. One roof. Two restless souls. We kept our promise for three years.

I caught her staring at me from across the quad, eyes fixed on the football jersey stretched across my wide chest. And if I flexed my muscles, showing off the strength of a defensive tackle, it was just to see her blush. And then she did, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Her wide eyes. The freckles on her cheeks. I needed to know her. The girl who scampered away every time we bumped into each other—by accident and by design.

Things I didn't have on this year’s bingo card—marrying the new hotshot hockey player one night in Vegas. But the team captain dared us to say I do. And I’m the kind of girl who doesn’t back down. Especially when the team captain starts flirting with me too right after the ceremony. Maybe they both want to kiss the bride? Come to think of it, that’s not such a bad idea. Soon, one dare leads to another, and I’m saying puck yes to both players sharing me on my wedding night.

Holt Sebastian is royalty in our world. As CEO of the Sebastian News Corp, he’s the man with all the power. The man who decides if I’ll always just be a local television anchor or if I’ll be the rising star of my own show.

I was a small-town girl with big city dreams and more ambition than money to my name. He had everything—money, privilege, and the world at his feet. Opposites in every way, but that didn’t matter. We were lightning in a bottle, and everything felt possible when we were together. Life was perfect.

Now in a convenient bundle, here are the second three novels in Jill Ramsower’s captivating Five Families Series. Three sisters. Three incomparable men. Three full-length novels about love in a dangerous mafia world of lies, schemes, and betrayal.

Brogan Six’s fan mail has been filling my mailbox for weeks. With every lipstick covered letter I receive, my irritation with him grows. And let’s not talk about the time I accidentally opened one of the packages to find someone had sent him their panties. Gross. When I come face-to-face with my new nemesis, I expect to give him a piece of my mind and we’ll go our separate ways. Me to an empty mailbox and him to sift through his panty collection. That is not what happens.

I'm not a good man, and I've never pretended to be. I don't believe in goodness or God or any happy ending that isn't paid for in advance. What do I believe in? Money. Sex. Macallan 18. They have words for men like me - playboy. Womanizer. Skirt chaser. My brother used to be a priest, and he only has one word for me: sinner.

Everyone says opposites attract. And they must be right, because there’s no logical reason why I’m so drawn to Colin Fitzgerald. I don’t usually go for tattoo-covered, video-gaming, hockey-playing nerd-jocks who think I’m flighty and superficial. His narrow view of me is the first strike against him. It doesn’t help that he’s buddy-buddy with my brother. And that his best friend has a crush on me. And that I just moved in with them. Oh, did I not mention we’re roommates?

A collection of the three best-selling high-stakes stand-alones in the Extravagant series!

Dani, groomed by Lilith herself, has long been spreading horror in the murk of purgatory. She never asked to be summoned to Heaven’s Gate and never expected to be charged with the stubbornly attractive angel Nicholas as her partner. Though, with a face like his to look at, Dani isn’t about to complain. The lines between good and evil are shifting. Dani discovers that, lurking in her familiar darkness, are secrets she would never have guessed at and doesn’t understand. Now she must ask herself, who is a demon supposed to trust?

Call it superstition, but when a guy bats as hot as Brooks Elliott, you don’t mess with what’s working. And what’s working is him keeping his pants zipped and doing all of his scoring on the field. So when I hear he’s planning to ditch his V-card now that he’s been traded to baseball’s lovable losers - a.k.a. my home team and my reason for living every March through October - I do what any rational, dedicated, obsessed fan would do. I make a plan to stop him. But the thing about stopping him is that it requires spending time with him. Lots. And lots. And lots of time.