We all know you can't change people, right? No matter how much you love someone, you can't change them. Especially when they're selfish irreparably broken assholes who do nothing but hurt you over and over yet still feel they have some sort of power over you and you swear if you could just get th...
Does your beau stop in the middle for a snack break? Never get started in the first place? Leave you doing a walk of unsatisfied shame? Well Whitney Brigs theater major, Ruby Cotton has developed just the web site to voice your dissatisfaction.Yep, that’s right. Ruby has enlisted the help of a co...
4.5 stars! Back on form! Broken at love is one of my favourite contemporary romance books as i fell in love with the tortured characters of Quinn and Emilie, but I was disappointed with the second instalment as i didn't really connect with the characters...this book is so much better than the sec...
To be honest, this is time i felt less attachment. The romance would have been awesome without the whole heist-society kinda plot that took away part of my enjoyment. I liked how this was less dark than previous books but idk this con-artist thing could have been better. I LOVED the witty lines. ...
Amelia might be sleeping better since Mrs. LaBadie died—or Mama Lottie killed her—but my nights grow shorter and shorter. At least Beau was with me when I woke up at five this morning, and he is quite good at providing distractions of many kinds. Now it’s after seven, and we both need to get mov...
He was supposed to meet the Chesapeake woman for lunch so that they could go over their appearances over the next week, but he needed to do something now. He dialed Nico, Magdalena’s confession about the tactics of this Matrigna Holdings company boiling his blood. “Please don’t tell me you’re b...
We didn’t even eat dinner together; Mrs. Donnelly left it all out in the kitchen for people to come through and fix plates, but Mr. Donnelly and Grady haven’t returned, either, not that I’ve seen. Maybe they’re avoiding the excess of estrogen.I’m sitting on the porch, bundled up in coats and hats...
“Here you are, your majesty.” “Thanks.” She tears into the bags I set on the desk, pulling out her salad and dousing it in balsamic vinaigrette that’s going to linger in the air for the rest of the day. She shoves a bite in her mouth. “Good gravy, this tastes good.” “That is disgusting, and Grams...
He’s wearing a clean pair of track pants and a thin, long-sleeved Heron Creek High School Baseball shirt that he had in his gym bag. The shirt, at least, looks as though it might have survived since his days walking the halls. His cheeks turn red when I tease him about it. “I’ve been coaching th...