Résultats de "Vi Keeland" dans Toutes les catégories

When the board of directors of my company mandated that I go to a wellness facility in small-town Maine to recharge, that shouldn’t have included using a ladder to sneak out of the bedroom window at night and going to the local bar. But Brock Hawkins was so much more than just the hot bar owner. He owned half the town, built log cabins with his bare hands, and was apparently the most eligible man in all of Meadowbrook.

I just wanted a distraction, something to take the edge off before facing a wedding I was dreading. So on the flight back to New York, I signed up for a dating app. Harmless enough, right? Wrong. Turns out, it wasn’t just any app—it catered to people with very specific tastes. By the time I realized it, I was already on my date.

It all started with a bet. When my young son inherited half of his great grandfather’s historic inn, I decided to move us both to the place where I grew up. Notice I said half of the Inn. The other half now belonged to Levi Miller, the famous quarterback who had other ideas about what we should do with the property. We won’t mention that I accidentally injured him during our first meeting, causing him to get eight stitches. You could say we got off on the wrong foot. We bickered a lot as we both moved into the property while we figured things out.

When my grandmother found out she didn’t have long to live, she embarked on a crazy trip—jumping out of airplanes and scuba diving with sharks. After I repeatedly voiced my concern, Gram blocked me—her own grandson—on text and social media, leaving me only her travel companion Eleanor’s number.

The first time I met Merrick Crawford was during my job interview. Well, technically, I’d met him 20 minutes earlier when he’d barged into a fitting room a few doors down from my appointment. I yelled. He yelled. After an argument while standing in my bra, I proceeded to smash the door into the gorgeous jerk, trying to yank it shut. As you might imagine, I was freaked out when I discovered that the rude guy was my potential new boss. Yet he didn’t seem to recognize me. Or so I thought.... Until we wound up bickering again during my interview and he told me to go sniff my armpit.

Finding a good roommate through a classified ad isn’t as easy as it sounds. I was starting to lose hope. Until a knock at my door came, and God answered my prayers. Except...uh...wrong prayer, God. I’d definitely requested the big guy find me a drop-dead gorgeous man on more than one occasion...just not as my roommate. Declan Tate talked me into interviewing him anyway. While he was amusing and charismatic, I wouldn’t have been comfortable living with a man, so I regretfully declined. Then, cupcakes showed up at my door.

Bennett Fox walked into my life on one hell of a crappy Monday morning. I was late for the first day at my new job - a job I’d now have to compete for, even though I’d already worked eight years to earn it, because of an unexpected merger. While I lugged my belongings up to my new office, a meter maid wrote me a parking summons. She’d ticketed a long line of cars - except for the Audi parked in front of me, which happened to be the same make and model as mine. Annoyed, I decided to regift my ticket to the car that had evaded a fine.

I'm writing this letter because it's highly doubtful I'll ever garner the courage to say this to your face. So, here goes. We're totally wrong for each other. You're the proper single mum with a good head on your shoulders. I'm just the carefree British doctor passing through town and temporarily living in your converted garage until I head back to England. But here's the thing... for some bloody reason, I can't stop thinking about you in very inappropriate ways.

Vi Keeland et Penelope Ward, autrices de best-sellers au classement du New York Times, reviennent avec une nouvelle romance contemporaine standalone. Règle numéro un quand on veut sortir avec la sœur de son meilleur ami : ne pas le faire. Jamais. Surtout quand le meilleur ami en question est décédé, et que la dernière chose qu’il vous a fait promettre est de garder un œil sur sa petite sœur, mais juste un œil. En tant que musicien dont la plus longue relation a duré six mois, moi, Holden Catalano, je suis le dernier type sur Terre qui aurait dû traîner autour de Laney Ellison.

Rule number one for dating your best friend’s sister: Don’t. Just don’t do it. Especially when your best friend is dead and the last thing he made you promise him was that you’d keep an eye on his little sister, but not too good of an eye.

The feud between Weston Lockwood and me started at the altar. Only neither of us attended the wedding, and the nuptials happened decades before either of us was born. Our grandfathers had been best friends and business partners, at least up until my grandfather’s wedding day - when his bride-to-be blurted out she couldn’t marry him because she was also in love with Weston‘s grandfather.

The first time I met Dawson Reed, we wound up in bed. The problem was, neither of us knew the other were there. When I woke up in the middle of the night and found a stranger next to me, instinct kicked in and I attacked the intruder. Only it turned out, the man wasn’t an intruder at all. Dawson had rented this cabin, too. Apparently, a system glitch allowed a duplicate booking. We’d soon find out we were in town for the same wedding, and Dawson was the groomsman I’d been warned about. He was as tall, dark and jaw-droppingly gorgeous as my best friend had described.

Donovan and I met at a coffee shop to do the suitcase exchange. Turned out, it wasn’t just his voice that was sexy. The man holding my luggage was absolutely gorgeous, and we had an immediate spark. He got me to admit that I’d snooped in his bag and then convinced me to make it up to him by letting him buy me coffee. Coffee led to dinner, dinner led to dessert, and dessert led to spending an entire weekend together. So what did I do to repay him for his kindness? I waited until he was in the shower, then ghosted him.

Vi Keeland, auteure de bests-sellers no 1 au classement du New York Times, nous livre un nouveau roman intégral, torride et sexy. La première fois que j'ai rencontré Hudson Rothschild, c'était à un mariage. J'avais reçu une invitation inattendue dans l'une des salles les plus chics de la ville. Hudson était garçon d'honneur et sûrement l'homme le plus beau que j'aie jamais vu. Il m'a proposé de danser, et tout de suite, notre alchimie a crevé le plafond. Je savais que c'était une mauvaise idée de me laisser aller avec lui, étant donné le mariage auquel j'assistais.

La première fois que j’ai rencontré Max Yearwood, j’avais rendez-vous avec lui sans l’avoir encore jamais vu. Max était incroyablement beau et drôle, et notre alchimie a tout de suite crevé le plafond. Il avait aussi d’adorables fossettes. Pile ce dont j’avais besoin après ma séparation. Ou du moins, c’était ce que je croyais… Jusqu’à ce que l’homme avec qui j’avais réellement rendez-vous arrive. Il s’avère que ce n’était pas Max que je devais rencontrer ce soir-là. Il s’était simplement prêté au jeu avant l’arrivée de mon véritable compagnon d’un soir. Dire que j’étais déçue serait un euphémisme.

Quand ma grand-mère a découvert qu’elle n’en avait plus pour très longtemps à vivre, elle s'est lancée dans de folles aventures, comme sauter d’un avion ou encore faire de la plongée avec des requins. Et devant mes protestations répétées, mamie m’a tout simplement bloqué ‒ moi, son propre petit-fils ‒ sur les réseaux sociaux, ne me laissant que le numéro de téléphone d’Eleanor, sa compagne de voyage. Eleanor a commencé à m’envoyer des photos des aventures de mamie.

My love story all started with a letter. Only it wasn’t from the man I’d eventually fall in love with. It was from his daughter. A sweet little girl named Birdie Maxwell who’d written to the magazine that I worked for. You see, once a year my employer fulfilled a few wishes for readers. Only that column didn’t start up again for months. So I fulfilled some of her wishes myself. It was harmless…so I thought. Until one day I took things too far. While anonymously granting yet another of Birdie’s wishes, I got a look at her father.

It was just a typical Monday. Until the big boss asked me to make the pitch for a prospective new client. After two years on shaky ground at work because of my screw up, an opportunity to impress the senior partners was just what I needed. Or so I thought, until I walked into the conference room and collided with the man I was supposed to pitch to. My coffee spilled, my files tumbled to the ground, and I almost lost my balance. And that was the good part of my day. Because the gorgeous man who crouched down and looked at me like he wanted to eat me alive was none other than my ex.

The first time I met Hudson Rothschild was at a wedding. I’d received an unexpected invitation to one of the swankiest venues in the city. Hudson was a groomsman and quite possibly the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. He asked me to dance, and our chemistry was off the charts. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with him, considering the wedding I was at. But our connection was intense, and I was having a great time. Though the fun came to a screeching halt when Hudson figured out I wasn’t who I’d said I was.

I’d never forgotten him - a man I’d yet to meet. Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break. Until one day, it did. Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one - one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing. Griffin forgave me, and we were able to rekindle our childhood connection.