Showing results for "Shut Up" in Romance

After years of scraping by, Nolan and I just landed the big break of a lifetime for our scrappy online restaurant review show. We’re going to New York for a month. Just the two of us. Together all the time. But I’ve already lost my best friend once, so I’ll do whatever it takes to resist thoroughly delicious Nolan again. Until I learn whatever it takes might cost me everything.

Welcome to Precious, Texas, where fistfights serve as dinner theater and fire ants rain from the sky. The locals are very friendly, if a bit eccentric. No pictures, please, or you may find yourself a guest of the county morgue. Photojournalist Shala Winters already had her hands full bringing tourism to this backward, Podunk town, but her job just got tougher. Pictures can say a thousand words, and one of Shala's is screaming bloody murder. Now she has to entrust a macho, infuriating lawman with her life - but she'll never trust him with her heart.

I waited eight years to marry the father of my children. I worked on our relationship. I was patient. I forgave—the thoughtless remarks, the disappointments, the test results when I was expecting our youngest that proved he hadn't been "working late." Then, when we finally made it to the altar, he looked deep into my eyes, smiled, and cracked a fat joke. That wasn't the worst of it. His vows weren't a promise to love. They were a final test of exactly what I'd do to get his ring on my finger—what I'd take—in front of our family, friends, and their cell phones.

After relocating from a small town in Tennessee, Mila has been living in New York City for a year and a half, more than happy to be lost in the crowd. Living vicariously through her best friend and roommate, Nikki, Mila spends her days waitressing and her evenings at home. Then, one night, after getting exclusive tickets to a nightclub downtown, Nikki is able to convince Mila to let loose for once.

After a sudden cross-country move, I'm stuck crashing with my older brother and two of his hockey teammates for sophomore year. I'm not thrilled about shacking up with three athletes and their stinky gear, rotating door of hookups, and tendency to inhale every snack in the house—just some reasons of many that hockey players aren't my type. When I walk in the front door with an armload of boxes, however, I'm faced with another problem. My anonymous fling from two months ago is Tyler Donahue, the superstar goalie for my brother's team.