Résultats de "Vi Keeland" dans Toutes les catégories

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.

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.

Laurel Lake held the title America’s Friendliest Town for seventeen years running, and friendly was just what I needed right now. Unfortunately, friendly wasn’t the welcome I got when I arrived. Instead, I got Fox Cassidy. My tall, dark, and burly neighbor, who grunted at me instead of saying hello. Okay, so I might’ve had his mailbox in my hands the first time we met. And it might’ve been a little crushed after removing it from under my tire. And I might’ve needed his help breaking into the place I was staying in after the key broke off in the lock.

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.

It all started with a mysterious blue note sewn into a wedding dress. Something blue. I’d gone to sell my own unworn bridal gown at a vintage clothing store. That’s when I found another bride’s “something old". Stitched into the lining of a fabulously feathered design was the loveliest message I’d ever read: Thank you for making all of my dreams come true.

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.

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.

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.

Hockey star Max Yearwood was everything I needed at the time - fun, sexy, up for anything, and only around for a few months, since he’d signed with a new team 3,000 miles away. Max proposed we spend the summer helping me forget my ex. It sounded like a good plan. Things couldn’t get too serious when we had an expiration date. Right? Though, you know what they say about the best-laid plans.

Vi Keeland et Penelope Ward, autrices de best-sellers au classement du New York Times, reviennent avec une romance contemporaine dans ce nouveau standalone. Tout a commencé lorsque j’ai organisé une petite soirée avec l’ensemble de mes nouvelles amies. Enfin, " amies " n’est peut-être pas le terme approprié, puisque les invitées étaient toutes les femmes avec lesquelles mon petit copain discutait derrière mon dos. Quand l’invité d’honneur est arrivé – celui qui est désormais mon ex –, la situation a tourné au vinaigre.

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.

Rule number one for having a one-night stand: Don’t fall for the girl. After a lengthy dating slump, I finally met someone who sparked my interest. Well, first the sparks flew when we argued. Later in the evening those sparks ignited into something more. I was drawn to Devyn, in a way I hadn’t felt in a really long time. Needless to say, I was disappointed when she abruptly left after our amazing night together. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But she hadn’t even given me her number. In a city with eight-million people, I figured I’d never see Devyn again.

A new standalone novel from #1 New York Times bestselling author, Vi Keeland. The night I met Drew Jagger, he'd just broken into my new Park Avenue office. I dialed 9-1-1 before proceeding to attack him with my fancy new Krav Maga skills. He quickly restrained me, then chuckled, finding my attempted assault amusing. Of course, my intruder had to be arrogant. Only, turned out, he wasn't an intruder at all. Drew was the rightful occupant of my new office. He'd been on vacation while his posh space was renovated.

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.

Règle numéro un des coups d'un soir : ne pas tomber amoureux de la fille. Après une longue période d'abstinence, j'ai enfin rencontré quelqu'un qui a su éveiller mon intérêt. Enfin, au départ, les seules étincelles qu'il y a eu entre nous ont été celles de notre dispute. Mais plus tard ce soir-là, elles ont mené à quelque chose de plus fort. Je suis attiré par Devyn comme je ne l'ai pas été depuis très longtemps par personne. Je vous laisse imaginer ma déception quand elle s'est subitement volatilisée après la nuit incroyable que nous avons passée ensemble.

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 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.

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.

Griffin Quinn était mon correspondant d’enfance, un garçon britannique qui n’aurait pas pu être plus différent de moi. Au fil des années, grâce à des centaines de lettres, nous étions devenus meilleurs amis et avions partagé nos secrets les plus sombres et les plus profonds, créant ainsi un lien que je pensais indestructible.

Quand ma vie a pris un tournant inattendu, j'ai décidé de quitter New York pendant quelque temps. Pourtant, au fil du temps, j'ai commencé à remarquer chez Fox d'autres petites choses que ses regards noirs. Manque de chance, il semblerait que cette année, les problèmes me suivent comme mon ombre. On dit que ce qui se passe au lac doit rester au lac, mais ce n'est pas si facile de s'en aller quand ce qu'on laisse derrière soi n'est autre que… son cœur.