As I child, I believed in true love and fairytales. I convinced myself that there was one special man out there, made just for me. All I had to do was wait, and one day he would appear. Then I grew up and discovered the ugly truth.
Disney movies were full of crap.
Relationships took work. People made mistakes. And sometimes, you didn’t see what was standing right in front of you until it was too late.
Deacon Lockhart was my best friend. And then I lost him. But now I finally have a chance to make things right, and this time I refuse to screw it up. With every smoldering look and wicked word, he charms the hell out of me… and I’m pretty sure I’ll never get enough.
I don’t know what love is anymore.
Well, that’s not entirely true, but I’m going to tell you a little secret: I’ve lost the spark.
You know the kind of spark I’m talking about?
Where butterflies take flight in your stomach from two hands innocently colliding. Or catching your breath when you first meet someone attractive. Yeah, that spark.
Except I haven’t felt that feeling in forever; there is nothing left inside of me.
Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem–but I’m a writer on a serious deadline, and my editor is breathing down my neck for a romantic, Nicholas Sparks type love story. No pressure, right?
That’s how I find myself flying across the country to crash a wedding in the name of research, dress and heels stuffed into my small suitcase.
It should be the easiest book research ever. Drinking some free champagne, basking in the love of two strangers, and tapping into my romantic side. That will be a breeze. I’m a pro. I can handle this.
Until I mistakenly end up in the wrong hotel room, naked as the day I was born, with the sexiest human I have ever met staring me down, wondering what I’m doing taking a shower in his bathroom. I don’t think calling it research will get me out of this pickle.
Poppy Porter’s ex is getting married … to her ex-best friend. To land her dream job of partner in the most prestigious firm on the Upper East Side, Poppy must now pull double shifts as their wedding planner and maid of honor. And the icing on a truly craptastic cake? Leo Nass. Handsome, infuriating, womanizer, and … the best man. Despite their longstanding loathing, Poppy doesn’t see Leo coming. Literally.
One ruined cake.
One hour to save the wedding.
Can they put their hatred aside long enough to save Poppy’s job and Bridezilla’s head from exploding?
Piece of cake, right?
Meet the Naughty Princess Club: a brand new series from USA Today bestselling author Tara Sivec that introduces readers to Fairytale Lane and the hilarity—and romance—that ensue when three women start a new business to make it rain.
Once upon a time Cynthia was the perfect housewife. Between being the President of the PTA and keeping her home spotless without a hair (or her pearls) out of place, her life was a dream come true. Her husband was once her knight in shining armor, but now he’s run off with all their money…and the babysitter.
Dressed as a princess at the annual Halloween block party on Fairytale Lane, she meets two other “princesses” also facing money troubles: antique store owner Ariel and librarian Isabelle. When the women are invited to wear their costumes to a party where they’re mistaken for strippers, Cindy, Ariel, and Belle realize that a career change could be the best way to make their money problems go bippity-boppity-boo.
But can structured Cindy approach a stripper pole without sanitizing wipes? And could the blue-eyed anti-prince that has been crossing her path become Cindy’s happily ever after? At the Stroke of Midnight is a hilarious, empowering story where princesses can save themselves while slaying in stilettos.
The Winter Games are over, but the bedroom games are just beginning…
This is about the time I normally hang up my snowboard and chill for a while. Except this year. This year, I’m dealing with what fate dealt me at the Winter Games—nope, not gold. A broken leg.
Since I’m not close to my family, I head to my best friend, Skylar’s pad to recoup. Turns out having your gorgeous, single, sexy friend wait on you hand and foot can blur the lines between friendship and romance.
Which is exactly why I’ve decided to help her find a boyfriend.
Yeah, you heard me right. I’m going to help her comb through every dating app available until she finds the perfect man. What else could remind me of my place in her life more than watching her fall for someone else?
I can deal. I’m used to pushing through pain. I’m an Olympian after all.
The Winter Games have begun…
I’m the life of the party. A little loud and some buzz kills might say obnoxious, but if you’re around me I guarantee you’ll have a good time.
Unless your name is Demi Harrison.
If that’s the case, you’d act like I’m the devil incarnate and go out of your way to avoid me. Which makes zero sense because at the last Olympic Games I rocked her world.
Whatever though. I need to concentrate on winning gold anyway. I was at the top of the standings coming into the games, but since arriving in Korea I’ve lost my edge.
I was never one for superstitions, but I can’t deny that there’s only one difference between my previous medal winning games, and these ones—her.
I’ve pulled off amazing feats in the past, but getting Demi to agree to sleep with me throughout the games might require divine intervention.
It may be Winter Games, but the bedroom games are about to begin…
Competing in South Korea on the world stage is hard enough.
Having to spend the entire press tour beforehand with a woman who hates me?
Karma really is a bitch.
While she’s spent the last four years loathing me, I’ve spent them ignoring the guilt that gnaws at my stomach.
All Mia Salter cares about is that I’m her brother’s ex-best friend and it’s her duty to hate me. The funny thing is, I barely noticed her back when she was trying to keep up with us on the slopes. Now, as both of us prepare to go for gold, I’m seeing her in a whole different light—and it involves a whole lotta different positions.
No one said the path to the Olympics would be easy.
Beau Fortier starred in most of my cringe-worthy teenage fantasies.
I met him when I was a junior in high school, a time that revolved exclusively around bad hair, failed forays into flirting, and scientific inquiries into which brand of toilet paper worked best for stuffing bras.
That is, until Beau moved into the small guest house just beyond my bedroom window.
A 24-year-old law student at Tulane, Beau was as mysterious to me as second base (both in baseball and in the bedroom). He was older. Intimidating. Hot. Boys my age had chicken legs and chubby cheeks. Beau had calloused hands and a jaw cut from steel. Our interactions were scarce—mostly involving slight stalking on my end—and yet deep down, I desperately hoped he saw me as more of a potential lover than a lovesick loser.
Turns out, I was fooling myself. My fragile ego learned that lesson the hard way.
Now, ten years later, we’re both back in New Orleans, and guess who suddenly can’t take his eyes off little ol’ me.
My old friend, Mr. Fortier.
But things have changed. I’m older now—poised and confident. My ego wears a bulletproof vest. The butterflies that once filled my stomach have all perished.
When I was a teenager, Beau warned me to guard my heart.
Let’s hope he knows how to guard his.
If anyone asks, I knew better than to flash my boobs for Mardi Gras beads.
I still don’t know why I did it.
Maybe it was the dare from my two best friends.
Maybe it was the guys on the balcony saying they’d throw Fireball shots with the beads.
Or maybe it was the quiet guy in the corner of that same balcony with piercing gray eyes, wavy dark hair, and a smile so tempting I wanted to climb up there and lick it off his face.
Maybe it was because I never thought I’d see them again.
Not that it matters. Not today.
Because the hotel I manage was finally bought—and the guy who walks in and introduces himself as my new boss is Mr. Tall, Dark, and Silent.
There are many upsides to being single.
Your new boss knowing what your boobs look like?
Not one of them.
It’s easy to stop believing in happily ever afters when the man you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with abandons you right before your wedding day. After that disastrous event I decided that commitment was for suckers. I was young, successful, and in the prime of my life.
I didn’t need a man to make me happy.
Then an unexpected blast from the past came waltzing into my studio and decided I was a challenge he was more than willing to accept. The only problem is that he doesn’t remember he’s met me before.
He’s the ultimate playboy, determined to stop at nothing until he entices the hell out of me. But if Caleb McMannus thinks he can lure me in with his sinful looks and silver tongue, then he’s…probably right.