The bitingly funny paranormal romance series that began with Dead End Dating continues in this second book which finds the sassy proprietor of a vampire dating service mixed up with murder, a pack of lovelorn lady werewolves, and her own undead ex. Original.
Disillusioned by the death of her young ward, Faith Jansen retreated from the world and vowed never to love again. Then a handsome stranger with a dark secret showed up on her doorstep. She found herself reaching out, drawn by his brooding intensity and the mesmerizing light in his eyes. Little d...
BITING IS SO LAST SEASON.A vivacious vampire with a flair for accessorizing, Lil Marchette is unlike most of her kind. She prefers lively shades of pink to dismal black (soo not her color), plus she’s a hopeless romantic. In need of a steady paycheck to support a compulsive cosmetics habit, Lil s...
BEING DEAD CAN KILL A SOCIAL LIFE! For Lil Marchette, the owner of Manhattan's premier dating service for vampires (and a dazzling denizen of the dark herself), death is all in a night's work. Unfortunately, it's going to take more than matching up vamps to pay the bills and fund Lil's cosmetics...
Evie’s voice drifted over the phone when I called her after a frantic online visit to EverythingsBiggerinTexasbuttheAirfare.com.“Arizona.” I braced myself for a stab of guilt. I was really headed to Austin and then Lonely Fork, but I wasn’t going to clue Evie in on my real destination. For her ow...
Jesse James Chisholm stared over the back of the meanest bull this side of the Rio Grande at the woman who parked herself just outside the railing of the Lost Gun Training Facility, located on a premium stretch of land a few miles outside the city limits. His heart stalled...
Which said a lot because Miranda Rivers had become quite the expert over the years. Thanks entirely to her mother—part-time B is for Beautiful independent makeup consultant and full-time buckle bunny—Miranda had witnessed hundreds of Stetsons bobbing through the front door of the sing...
Or the way he looked. Or the way he smelled. Or the fact that he was sleeping in the room right next to hers. That’s what she told herself as she lay in the comfortable bed in Cole’s RV and stared at the ceiling. Comfortable, as in she should be sle...
Brandy said, showing the sheriff into her grandfather’s room. “It’s all just the way it was the last time you were here.” She still hadn’t made the decision between Goodwill and the church. “Take your time.” He nodded. “Thanks.” And then he walked into the room and started moving around boxes, pe...
Sarah discovered that the moment she walked out of her house early the next morning and headed down the walkway toward the three-thousand-square-foot greenhouse that housed the Green Machine. Worse, he was here. He’d traded in the old souped-up Corvette he’d driven back in high school for a brand...
“Because we work with brides.” “In Houston,” Burke pointed out. “Why are you sending us all the way to Boston?” Because it was the only wedding extravaganza taking place this weekend, with the exception of the Beaverville Bridal Bash in Beaverville, Alaska. Um, yeah. Not that I had anything again...
He stroked and teased and a sweet pressure tightened low in her belly. “Then it’s settled. You’re not working tonight.” For emphasis, he slid his finger into her slowly, tantalizingly, stirring every nerve to vibrant awareness until he was as deep as he could go, and then ...
Vinnie sat in my office, an impatient look on his face. He glanced at his watch. “Maybe she said I was a hot stud with a really cute butt.”“No.” I swallowed and summoned my courage. Again. “She definitely said you were a big dud and she hated your guts.”Silence stretched between us as the news se...
I’d had it fierce for John Travolta back in the ‘70s) and ten tracks from Now That’s What I Call Yodeling. Not that I actually knew one yodeling tune, much less ten, but Remy wasn’t privy to that juicy tidbit.Long story short, he glared the entire trip and practically kicked me out of the cab whe...
The older woman didn’t drop-kick the basket into the nearest trash can or stuff one of the megasize treats up Spur’s nose, or any other orifice. Definitely a good sign. Good, but not great. Marshalyn wasn’t smiling yet, despite the baked goodies and the fast movement of Uncle Spur’s mouth—uh-oh. ...
Shock jolted through her as he pulled her flush against him, her breasts crushed against his chest, her pelvis cradling the hard bulge of his crotch. The sudden contact shocked them both. His gaze darkened. A gasp caught on her lips. “I shouldn’t have pulled away from you,” he murmured, his voice...