Showing results for "Scandalous" in Romantic Comedy

I've been dreading this for a year. Okay, that's a lie. I've been dreading this reunion since we graduated high school 10 years ago. So why am I here, standing outside the door like the eternal wallflower I am? I'd say it's because my younger sister browbeat me into it, but the truth is, I'm tired of being a nobody. Of never taking a risk with myself and my life. And...well...maybe I'm also hoping to see him. The tall, insanely gorgeous man walking my way now. Oliver Fritz is regarded as one of Boston's sexiest doctors. I know him as the former god of our school.

John Harding, Duke of Pembroke, has everything: wealth, power and status. But beneath the facade is a man bruised by betrayal, haunted by loss and trained never to trust. Love, to John, is a myth. Years ago, Katherine Spencer secretly loved her brother's best friend, John. But she has always known her place: born of scandal and followed by whispers and prejudice. A future with a duke was never for her. Now, she has the chance of marriage to a respectable clergyman. But when John strides back into her life, will Katherine compromise her reputation and let everything unravel?

Wenn die Büchersucht zum Verhängnis wird... Manche Geschichten beginnen mit einem Ups. Ich laufe lesend gegen Jonah Kent, den Mann mit den buchwürdig blauen Augen. Kurz darauf erfahre ich nicht nur, dass er zu den begehrtesten Junggesellen der Stadt gehört, sondern auch, wie mächtig er ist. Er bringt meinen Boss dazu, dass ausgerechnet ich seine Biografie schreiben und ihn dafür täglich begleiten soll. Davon erhofft er sich genau das, was die Protagonisten in meinen verruchten Lieblingsbüchern lang und ausdauernd tun.

She is a shy spinster by day and a celebrated opera singer by night. He is an earl in dire need of a wife—and desperately in love with this season's opera star. Can love blossom out of this tangled web of deception? This is a sweet, cheeky Regency romp where spinsters are merry, rogues are charming, and nothing is at it seems.

I own the runway. Until my nipple pops out of my dress during New York Fashion Week and it suddenly owns me. Being called a worthless gutter slut by a fuming designer is the least of my problems. My career is swirling around the toilet like the other models’ lunches. Until smoking hot Tate Decker steps in with a crazy idea about how his magazine can maybe salvage my livelihood.