Showing results by narrator "Jacob Morgan" in All Categories

Trauma nurse Aly escapes her hard-working days by thirsting after masked men online. To her, nothing could top the fantasy of her favorite tattooed and masked man hunting her down. But she never could have guessed that one drunken text would turn those dreams into reality . . .Josh has spent his life avoiding the limelight, but his online persona is another story. At night, he posts masked thirst traps for his millions of fans, until one follower catches his eye: Aly.

Eight years ago I fell into a secret summer fling with my best friend’s little sister before our lives went in different directions. Now, I’m the grumpy to Juliet’s sunshine on a popular dating podcast we host, and when a wealthy fan gives us a charming coastal cottage as the biggest thank you ever, we head to the town where I grew up to give it a makeover. And find the house has only one bed. Located under a mirrored ceiling.

Jamie Canning has never been able to figure out how he lost his closest friend. Four years ago, his tattooed, wisecracking, rule-breaking roommate cut him off without an explanation. So what if things got a little weird on the last night of hockey camp the summer they were 18? It was just a little drunken foolishness. Nobody died.

It was supposed to be a harmless kiss at a lavish debutante ball. A clandestine moment with a handsome stranger. But unlike his namesake, my Romeo isn’t driven by love. He’s fueled by revenge. To him, I’m a chess piece. Leverage. His rival’s betrothed. To me, he is a man deserving of poison. A dark prince I refuse to marry. He thinks I’ll accept my fate. Well, I plan to rewrite it. And in my story, Juliet doesn’t die. But Romeo? He perishes.

I can’t have Elijah Iverson. I can’t have him because he’s my older brother’s best friend. I can’t have him because I broke his heart five years ago; because he’s now engaged to someone else - someone kind and dependable who deserves his whiskey eyes, his soft mouth, his fierce intellect.

I'm not a good man, and I've never pretended to be. I don't believe in goodness or God or any happy ending that isn't paid for in advance. What do I believe in? Money. Sex. Macallan 18. They have words for men like me - playboy. Womanizer. Skirt chaser. My brother used to be a priest, and he only has one word for me: sinner.

I’m the only woman on staff for the Windy City Warriors, and after years of putting up with a sexist lead doctor, I’m desperate to land my dream job with a new team next year. All I have to do is maintain my professional reputation for my final season in Chicago. But a Las Vegas run-in with the team’s shortstop threatens it all, leaving me with a fuzzy memory and a ring on my left hand.

Five months in, NHL forward Ryan Wesley is having a record-breaking rookie season. He's living his dream of playing pro hockey and coming home every night to the man he loves - Jamie Canning, his longtime best friend turned boyfriend. There's just one problem: the most important relationship of his life is one he needs to keep hidden, or else face a media storm that will eclipse his success on the ice.

When River McAllister escaped from Shallow Hill, she left her innocence behind—and some of her sanity. Now, she's rebuilding her life with her dream man, and life couldn't be better.

Vaughn Spencer. They call him an angry god. To me, he is nothing but a heartless prince. His parents rule this town, its police, every citizen and boutique on Main Street. All I own is a nice, juicy grudge against him for that time he almost killed me. Between hooking up with a different girl every weekend, breaking hearts, noses, and rules, Vaughn also finds the time to bully little ol' me. I fight back, tooth and nail, never expecting him to chase me across the ocean after we graduate high school.

There has been a lot written about leadership for the present day, but the world is changing quickly. What worked in the past won't work in the future. We need to know how to prepare leaders who can successfully navigate and guide us through the next decade and beyond. How is leadership changing, and why? How ready are leaders today for these changes? What should leaders do now?

I’d never forgotten him - a man I’d yet to meet. Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break. Until one day, it did. Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one - one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing. Griffin forgave me, and we were able to rekindle our childhood connection.

Duty, honor, and sacrifice. Dedicating my life to these elements, for family and country, leaves little for myself in return. It's why I indulge in a no-strings hookup with a handsome stranger mere days before heading half-a-world away. Except one night turns into a week-long fling, creating a connection at the most inopportune time. And neither of us want it to end. Staying in touch is easy at first, but dwindles to radio silence and distant memories as time passes.

I wasn’t supposed to be on that roof on Valentine’s Day. Neither was Kellan Marchetti, the school’s designated freak. We met on the verge of ending our lives. Somehow, the tattered strings of our tragedies tangled and tightened into an unlikely bond. We decided not to take the plunge and agreed to check on each other every Valentine’s Day until school ended. Same time. One roof. Two restless souls. We kept our promise for three years.

Resisting the shortstop has never been my strong suit. I failed at it during my first spring training. It sure as hell looks like I'm about to fail at it again. The sport I love playing with my very soul hangs in the balance. But everything my heart craves lies with the guy I've got to resist. A guy who's asking me to make the toughest choice ever.

Cruel. Coldblooded. Hades in a Brioni suit. Cillian Fitzpatrick has been dubbed every wicked thing on planet earth. To the media, he is The Villain. To me, he is the man who (reluctantly) saved my life. Now I need him to do me another small solid. Bail me out of the mess my husband got me into. What’s a hundred grand to one of the wealthiest men in America, anyway? Only Cillian doesn’t hand out free favors. The price for the money, it turns out, is my freedom.

Let me tell you how Holden Sykes operates. As the campus playboy and one-and-done king, he doesn’t do strings. Or repeats. Or names, for that matter. So when he tries making my best friend the next notch on his bedpost, I react poorly. Some would call it jealousy or an unrequited crush, but friends protect each other from making mistakes. The same ones I’ve already made. Which is why driving Holden away seems like my only option. Too bad he’s not giving up without a fight.

Everyone says opposites attract. And they must be right, because there’s no logical reason why I’m so drawn to Colin Fitzgerald. I don’t usually go for tattoo-covered, video-gaming, hockey-playing nerd-jocks who think I’m flighty and superficial. His narrow view of me is the first strike against him. It doesn’t help that he’s buddy-buddy with my brother. And that his best friend has a crush on me. And that I just moved in with them. Oh, did I not mention we’re roommates?

I accepted my terrible fate until I met them. Three very different, alluring men. Silver, the brutal silver fox, who thrives on solving problems, and helped me get rid of a body. Alec, the intelligent golden retriever, who will do anything for me, even get his hands dirty. And Miller, the mysterious billionaire stalker with scars and tattoos, whose haunted past mirrors my own. With one month remaining until my life truly is no longer my own, I realize I must choose between my life or my mother’s.

In my defense, I was left alone with a bottle of single-malt and a lifelong penchant for protecting my baby sister. Still, that's no excuse to send 10 drunk-texts on why her hasty marriage would be a mistake. If only I had just texted my sister. But nope. I accidentally sent the message to her, her groom, and his super hot wingman. I also used the phrase “super hot wingman”, so I’d like to die now.