Showing results by author "Winter Renshaw" in All Categories

Being an identical twin has its perks, but when my sister asked me to sub in for a date with Roman Bellisario, I wasn’t exactly thrilled. Sure, he’s sinfully handsome and successful, but he also got me fired from my dream job three years ago. This time, my sister’s promotion is riding on this date, so I have to say yes. And as it turns out, we’re strangely perfect for each other. I sell art. He collects it. We’re both obsessed with the same obscure, mysterious artist that most people don’t even know exists.

It was an innocent mistake...All workaholic real estate broker Addison Andrews wanted was one night of pleasure, and picking the right guy was no different than shopping from a catalog, thanks to the dating app on her phone. His name was Wilder, and his profile was blank - just a sexy picture of a man who promised every wicked intention of a one-night stand. The agreement was simple. One night. No last names.

Always a bridesmaid, never a bride—and that’s the way I like it. I may be anti-marriage, but I’m still pro-romance. Case in point? That sexy curmudgeon I met last year during my cousin’s tropical bachelorette getaway. That grump was Dorian, the groom’s old college roommate, there for the bachelor party. I couldn’t get enough of his messy brown hair and gorgeous turquoise eyes. We connected on a deep level—emotionally and physically.

After a brush with death, I realize it’s time to make changes in my life. Big changes. First, my job. I love being a journalist, but I hate my megawatt magnate boss, West Maxwell. When he demands I rewrite an article on short notice, I turn the tables on him with a scathing new column and quit in a blaze of glory. But West isn’t about to let me go that easily, the jerk. He offers me an unexpected new position: mentor to his rebellious teenage niece. For some reason, I agree—I like helping people, but I’m also admittedly curious to glimpse the man behind the mogul.

The last time my father beat me to a bloody pulp was the night he walked in on me with his woman in his bed. To be fair, she seduced me. And to be honest, I liked it. But to CPS, I was a victim. They shipped me to Utah, where my estranged mother lived with her husband and two sister-wives. And that's when I met her. My innocent, wholesome, perfect step-sister. Well, one of many. But Waverly stood out because just like me, we'd been fighting a losing battle our entire lives. Falling for her was a mistake, but shit, it's not like I ever made good decisions.

Beckham King. Noun. Synonyms: None. Vanity wrapped in arrogance and tied with a wicked-intentioned bow. Obnoxiously attractive. Wildly talented in the sack. Everything a girl could want in a one-night stand. Don't ask him to commit. Don't expect a phone call. You only get one night. And God forbid you're the one girl deemed worthy of a reprise...Because you won't stand a chance. When an arrogant playboy's mind is set, there's abso-f--cking-lutely no changing it.

I've never felt more alive than when I'm on my knees before my master. Some would say I should be ashamed. Others might say I'm filled with sin. I say I'm just a woman with unstoppable determination, doing whatever it takes to secure her freedom before the opportunity fades forever. Nobody knows about us. Not my father, my three mothers, or my seven brothers and sisters. I was bred to be chaste and true, expected to find a respectable polygamous man and carry on the tradition of our faith.

The last time I saw Nevada Kane, I was 17, and he was loading his things into the back of his truck, about to embark on a 14-hour drive to the only college that offered him a full ride to play basketball. I told him I'd wait for him. He promised to do the same. But life happened. I broke my promise long before he ever broke his - and not because I wanted to. We never saw each other again.... Until 10 years later, when Nevada unexpectedly returned to our hometown after an abrupt retirement from his professional basketball career. Suddenly, he was everywhere.

I didn’t know her name, but I heard her laugh, tasted her lips, and felt her warm skin as I held her in my arms. Together, we watched our young children playing in the sand, the warm ocean lapping at the shore behind them as the setting sun painted the sky. She was my soul mate, and this was our life, our beautiful forever.... Then I woke up - alone in a hospital room, connected to wires and machines. There was no wife, no kids, not a single soul waiting for me. That life I dreamt of never existed. The woman I loved, the woman I knew better than I knew myself - she wasn’t real.

In the Wakemont family, it’s tradition to arrange a marriage before the ink is dry on your birth certificate. I was five hours old when my father promised me to the son of a man with “more money than God.” As we grew older, my future groom and I were encouraged to exchange “love letters” to get better acquainted—except the correspondence he sent read more like hate mail. Slade Delacorte hated the arrangement. But more than that, he hated me. He was moody, intense, arrogant, and darkly gorgeous. A villain—not a prince. The last man on earth I’d ever marry (if I had the choice).

For me, family is a curse. My father and brother made my life hell. My mother’s untimely death still keeps me up at night. Now that my brother, Donovan, has been killed in an accident, I can forget the past. The last remnant is the childhood home I’ve inherited—and which I intend to burn to the ground. The only obstacle? Anneliese Nielsen, Donovan’s fiancée.

Dear Isaiah, eight months ago, you were just a soldier about to be deployed and I was just a waitress, sneaking you a free pancake and hoping you wouldn't notice that my gaze was lingering a little too long. But you did notice. We spent one life-changing week together before you left, and we said goodbye on day eight, exchanging addresses at the last minute. I saved every letter you wrote me, your words quickly becoming my religion. But you went radio silent on me months ago, and then you had the audacity to walk into my diner yesterday and act like you'd never seen me in your life.

Country music god Beau Mason has just announced his retirement from the business at age 30, and I've just scored the interview of a lifetime. My network is flying me to Kentucky for his final interview, and at his request I'll be spending a few days with him at his ranch. I should be thrilled. But I'm not. Beau and I have a history, and I haven't seen him since he obliterated my heart at the tender age of 18.

I believe in soul mates but I never wanted to fall in love with mine. Two men want my heart. One is everything I want. The other is everything I need. One makes me feel safe. The other makes me feel terrified and wonderful all at the same time. Both of them have secrets. But to be fair, so do I.

The name on the screen was "Absinthe". But I knew her as the sultry voice blowing up my phone for late-night chats about Proust and Hemingway interspersed between the filthiest little...mutually satisfying exchanges...I'd ever experienced in my life. We'd never met. Until the day she walked into my office, her cherry lips wrapped around a candy apple sucker and an all too familiar voice that said, "You wanted to see me, Principal Hawthorne?"

Reed York was never my boyfriend. He was the pen. I was the company ink. Though if you want to get technical, we were more like colleagues who hated each other...with benefits. Everything was fine until the charming jerk went behind my back, stole my promotion, and became my boss - literally overnight. Refusing to work beneath him, I transferred 2,014 miles away to our Chicago division. But he’s just announced a last-minute site visit the week between Christmas and New Year’s, and he’s audaciously designated me as his "right-hand gal" during his visit. 

Behind the screens, there’s no denying our electric chemistry, but at work, our rivalry grows stronger than ever. But when passion meets profession, will we redefine the Law of Attraction, or will our hearts face a ruthless cross-examination with no chance of appeal? This contemporary workplace romance is a standalone novel in the Paper Cuts series.

Trey Westcott - devastatingly gorgeous. Intimidatingly brilliant. Powerful beyond belief. As the first trillionaire in existence, my boss lives a life most people can only dream of. Anything he wants is a snap of the fingers away. But when the coldhearted magnate snaps his fingers and requests me for a stint on his arm playing the role of his devoted fiancée and then some, he makes an offer I can’t refuse. And so I don’t. But I make it clear that he’ll have my time, my body, my attention, my discreet professionalism - everything except my heart. It’s not for sale.

The most humiliating moment of my life begins with an early morning message from my ex’s notoriously heartless best friend. I waste no time removing my accidental tag before the sharp-tongued novelist in me fires off a response to the man who harbored extreme and inexplicable hatred of me during the three years I dated his best friend in college. But I didn’t expect him to respond. And nothing could have prepared me for what he would say…or for all the ways this gorgeous villain with cruel icy blues would become the biggest plot twist my life had ever known.

Bogie had Bacall. Carrie had Big. I had Wyatt. Growing up, he was the handsome cowboy next door - an unlikely confidant, my best friend, my first kiss, and my favorite person. We were just a couple of small-town kids with ambitions bigger than the stars in our eyes. The summer after graduation, we made a pact: I’d go to college in New York and he’d stay and take over his daddy’s ranch. If, by 28, we were both still single, we’d get married…But as we stood in our high school gymnasium the night of our 10-year reunion, Wyatt told me he loved me too much to marry me.