Showing results by author "Nicole Snow" in All Categories

My “interview” with bosshole supreme was anything but normal. He picked the worst day ever to chase me off my favorite park bench. I retaliated with a spray of cinnamon latte all over his Italian shoes. Then - for some unholy reason - Magnus Heron offered me a job.

His proposal came in a little black envelope with 13 unlucky words: You still owe me that favor, doll, and I'm cashing in. Marry me. In a normal life, I'd never get hitched to Calvin Randolph. Not with his heart-stopping blue eyes, infamous player reputation, and an ego bigger than the part of his anatomy he loves boasting about the most. Been there, done that. All except the last part, which he's left to my shameful imagination for seven years apart. Of course, the fake fiancée contract I just signed is anything but normal.

I inherited a freaking husband. Grandpa's will was a shocker: huge fortune, gorgeous ranch, and the best horse ever. The fine print? Marrying Mr. Grump-alicious. The man who's supposed to protect me from...what, exactly? That's what I hope to find out if Drake Larkin ever talks. I know what I'm in for the first time his glance tears me open. A broody enigma who's large and in charge. A mute who curls my toes when he barks a few words. 

It was one freaking kiss with a stranger. I wasn't looking for a hero the day Brent Eden charged into my life. He saw a damsel in distress facing humiliation. We played pretend. Swore I was his. Baited sweet chaos. Blew apart everything. My dating disaster? Gone. Our kiss? Electric. Divine. Toe-curling. His mistake? Oh, boy. Dropping the ultimate F-bomb: fiancée. Especially when my gossipy cousin tells the whole family.  

Accidentally hitched to a dream. Now for the catch.... I didn't even say "I do." One crank call and I'm insta-wife to a tattooed behemoth and mother to his kids. He's paying my idiot boss a fortune for the perfect lie. Because trouble found Miller Rush, and he found me. A rock-hard, overprotective rebel with a cause. Father of the century. Abs wound tighter than his attitude. A broodylicious bull stomping around my house, barking orders. Something's got to give, okay? But it won't be me.

I'm on my last nerve. And I'm supposed to marry him to save my skin. Riker Woods might be God's hottest contradiction. Perfectly damaged. Stubborn soul. Moth to flame gaze. Single dad. Fierce protector. Kind...when he thinks no one's looking. Then along came little old me.

Accidentally married to a human stallion. And I can't even remember our wedding. It's awkward, okay? I didn't plan on waking up hitched to Hubby of the Century. Or one little misadventure erasing every memory of us. No sweet nothings. No ugly cry vows. No flipping honeymoon. But every time I see Flint Calum, I wonder. How did I get so lucky? Let's forget all six-foot-something of his oh-so-bad superdad self. His flashing eyes and SEAL-perfected whip of a body aren't why I'm dizzy.

Bossy. Heart of stone. Snarly mess next door. Send help before I'm prick-matized.... My next big mistake has a name. Warren Ford. Best kept secret in this weird little town. An alpha's alpha. Spartan abs. Too blunt for everybody's good. Moody, broody, mysterious, and totally up in my business.

Never, ever fall for your brother's hot older friend. I flunked the test the instant I laid eyes on Landon Strauss. Tall. Ripped. Commanding. Irresistibly alpha. He gave a damn like no one else did. His soul-searing eyes saw me, not just a nerd girl next door. I had my idol, my destiny, and names for our future kids picked.

Marshal Howard is a death wish wrapped in mystery. Cold, rude, insanely overprotective single dad. Everyone in our little town warned me to stay far, far away. I didn't listen. I answered the castoff's nanny ad because no one else would. I got too close. I saw through his vicious reputation. He's a man who's turning my heart inside out, making me a fool. If it was just the bad blood with him and my family, maybe we'd work through this. Maybe we'd find paradise. Just me, him, and that adorable little girl. But surprises come in threes. Like the lines on the pregnancy test. 

From Wall Street Journal best-selling author Nicole Snow - old promises and jaw-dropping secrets collide in a small town love-storm. A punished mountain of a man retakes the girl who hasn't told him he's a dad. Surprise! 

Waking up next to the world's hottest stranger is my first red flag. The huge rock on my finger? Hint number two I'm head-over-heels in trouble. I'm hair-on-fire freaked by the marriage certificate. Then I sit down with Noah Bernard, my mysterious new "husband." He talks a good game. Easy, when he'd put Hercules to shame. Olympian abs. Defiant growl. Come-to-mama eyes. Mammoth freaking ego. I almost wish I remembered our honeymoon. But I need answers. Not more secrets.

Cora: Never kiss an outlaw, they said. Easy advice, until the day my father's dirty secrets made me property of the Deadly Pistols Motorcycle Club. Easy, until I came face-to-face with the beautiful bastard who makes me burn with every glance - Firefly.

I wasn't supposed to end up in an outlaw biker's bed. I wasn't supposed to love it. I definitely wasn't supposed to crave his fiery kisses, beg for his touch, or ache to know the man behind the evil-looking ink and scarred smirk. I was the good girl. He was the monster. Then everything changed. I became a prisoner. I prayed for Skin to save me. He did - and he kept me for himself.

He never bothered with hello. The shrieking hot stranger had me dizzy the instant he said we're engaged. Then he chased off the bully on our heels and dragged me back to his place for the night. Pure insanity, right? Wrong. You don't let pride do the talking when you're homeless, on the run, and hauling around your sick father in a truck so old it must've been on Noah's Ark. You definitely don't complain when Ridge Barnet takes charge. (In)famous heartthrob. Stinking rich. Fed up owner of one angry rooster. Eyes set to permanent storm.

There's a reason he's called Mr. Silver Tongue. Blake Silverton could sweet talk an angel into sin. Fierce small-town fire chief. Rough velvet voice. Drop dead gorgeous. Don't even get me started on the tortured single dad thing. Wintering in Heart's Edge isn't a choice when my van goes kaboom! Neither is gawking at the human bulldozer who keeps charging to my rescue. If only we could stop butting heads. But I'm a healer. What's wrong with offering a grumpasaurus a massage? I'm hardly obsessed.  

Pinch me. I can't believe I'm working under him. Dr. Gray Caldwell. Hottest, swooniest, stormiest bachelor ever. Insanely tall. Unfair perfection. Intimidating abs and X-ray glares. Doc puts the animal back in veterinarian. My dream job should be all puppies and kittens. Turns out, my new boss hates three things: 1. Small town drama. Baby, we've got tons. 2. Pets in distress - and he's their hero every time. 3. Anybody poking around his past. Like me. Oh, crud. But how could I resist the best mystery in Heart's Edge? 

From Wall Street Journal best-selling author Nicole Snow - a tale of pretend love turned way too real. See the sparks fly when tight-wound alpha protector gets a taste of his ultimate sugar and spice. Full-length romance novel with a happily-ever-after roller coaster!

I never knew what hit me. Rex stormed into my little world with two adorable twin boys and no apologies. Bearish. Short-fused. Consuming. Huge. Torturously gorgeous. Leave-your-heart-in-pieces wrong. Did I mention HUGE? He's instant trouble the second he checks into our lodge and my overprotective grandpa hires him. Then I catch him staring with that knowing ache in his eyes. I forget what trouble even means. He also needs a nanny. Sold.  

The dirty little secret Dad left in the basement was supposed to be our salvation. Guess nobody told him you don't take cash from killers without savage consequences. Now the Grizzlies Motorcycle Club owns my sister and me. We're only alive because the rugged hulk with the piercing eyes who won't stop ordering me around says so. He saved us, but he's also an enigma I don't understand.