検索キーワード： 著者 "Julia Kent" すべてのカテゴリー

How did I accidentally sleep with someone, right? I know what you’re thinking. Whoops! I slipped and inadvertently inserted Tab A into Slot B. That’s not quite how it went. But my yoga instructor is really, really skilled with Tab A, if you know what I mean. Slot B never had it so good. What am I supposed to do now, as I walk into my yoga class and find the guy I ghosted this morning… there, in front of the class, perfectly aligned and grinning at me like he remembers touching all my chakras. He's perfect. Too perfect. He's so perfect he's ruining my job.

Nessa Martini, the newest and youngest member of staff, is doing her best to fix it all. Starting with her own chaotic life. A one-night stand with a hot bodybuilding social media influencer who turns out to be a minister is not Nessa's idea of personal growth, no matter how much she enjoyed it. When she ghosts on Mr. Perfect after one night of pleasure and he turns out not only to be the TikTok sensation known as "God's Gift," but also the minister at the wedding she's assigned to for work, all of Nessa's careful plans go out the window.

Luke Luview has given up on love. Finally ready to let go of his late wife’s clothes, the grieving small-town police officer and single dad thinks he’s hearing things when he opens the charity box door. Who knocks from the inside of a donation bin? The raccoon he assumes is in there turns out to be way prettier—and very familiar. Rescuing the first girl he ever kissed means life has dealt him a wild card with Kylie Hood, his late wife’s best friend who left town suddenly 15 years ago under a cloud of scandal.

Kell Luview refuses to be a sucker at love again. Five years ago, he left DC with his tail between his legs and his heart broken. Fiercely protective of his small town in rural Maine, he's determined to save the family tree business and avoid his feelings at all costs. LA native Rachel Hart hates being underestimated almost as much as she hates this small town. She has two goals on this trip: get out of the cheesy tourist trap of Love You, Maine, with a business deal, and avoid running into Kell, her old friend from DC who never became an old flame because of a huge misunderstanding.

As a shocking betrayal shakes the very foundation of everything he believes in, Kell must decide who to trust, who to challenge, who needs him most—and figure out fast whether Rachel’s warnings about his girlfriend are credible or yet another tactical maneuver in a city founded on them.

Mallory (Fluffy), Persephone (Perky), Fiona (Feisty), and Hastings (Hasty) come from the small town of Anderhill, Massachusetts, with lives that take sudden turns, as they get surprise “do-overs” when it comes to second-chance love. This boxed set features New York Times best-selling author Julia Kent’s first three books in the series, starting with the prequel, Little Miss Perfect. A romantic comedy, binge-listen, get ready for a massive laugh-fest escape!

I get paid to follow a womanizing troglodyte who thinks rules are for other people and that my pants are the next pair he’s getting into. Bet your first professional job didn’t involve babysitting an extremely hot, muscle-bound Scottish highlander with an ego the size of a kilt and libido bigger than his…well…chicken. Keeping Scottish football (that’s "soccer" to us Americans) player Hamish McCormick away from inappropriate scandals while he does product endorsement campaigns is my mission. No problem. Until Hamish decides I’m his next scandal. And maybe more...

I’m stuck in New York after ma agent makes a bloody mess of an otherwise good endorsement contract for a sports towel company, and this crazy American holiday - Thanksgiving - is in two days. The invitation to spend it in Mendon, Massachusetts with the Jacoby family is about as appealing as rotten haggis. As far as I can tell, Thanksgiving is about stuffing yerself silly, watching pathetic American “football”, while fighting with relatives ye only see once a year. Ma firm answer is nae. Until I remember Amy is part of the family. Suddenly, I’m available. Eager, even.

Mom owns more holiday decorations than 12 area malls combined. Dad prides himself on hand-chopping the best live tree, while my older sister perfected peppermint cookies to the point of unparalleled bliss, and my younger sister has memorized every Christmas carol with her fingers for a piano bash that goes on and on.

I guzzled another flute of Champagne and froze, the liquid in my throat, waiting to be swallowed. Tyler was here. We’d met a few times before, in passing. He was the substitute bass player for the band; I was the lead guitar player’s girlfriend’s best friend. In that weird sort of social circle thing where Venn diagrams get laid over different groups, Tyler and I were bound to be in the crossover once in a while.

The last ever-loving thing I ever thought I’d become is a hypocrite. A big, fat one. Joe doesn’t even want me to meet his parents. Trevor’s fine with it, but only if they keep thinking I’m his girlfriend. And only his girlfriend. He doesn’t want that pesky little thing called truth to get in the way. Both of them are my boyfriends. Both.

It’s Andrew and Amanda’s turn...in duplicate. We’re having twins. Twins. Which means my shooters are stronger than my brother’s. I win. Yeah, yeah, everyone can say it’s not a competition, but it is. And we all know it. Two babies at once means double the fun, and double the misery for my poor wife, Amanda.

I was ready to propose and I got upstaged by a snake. Not a real one. My bandmate. A case of mistaken identity almost derailed my proposal to Amy, but in the end, love prevailed. And my hand hurts from the punch, but it was worth it. She’s worth it. But I really need an ice pack now. Though a kiss from Amy and that yes are even better.

He says we never had a proper honeymoon. So, instead, he’s giving me...a prepper honeymoon? Who knew billionaire preppers were a thing? I guess I’m about to find out.

God damn! Charlotte, my ex-girlfriend, had to be here, of all places. At a bachelorette party where I was a stripper, dressed in a cop uniform with pants that suddenly got way too tight. And she had to be so fine. “Ooooh, honey, you’re one big officer,” said a sultry voice behind me as I watched Charlotte in the other room, chatting with the bride.

I never thought my perp walk would lead to true love. Then again, I never thought I’d be arrested on RICO charges and hauled away in zip ties on camera for the world to see, minutes after closing the most amazing deal of my career. And all of it in front of my biggest rival, billionaire wunderkind Ian McCrory.

You ever really think that you'll win the lottery? Meet Mr. Right? How about two Mr. Rights? Somehow the universe is handing me everything I want (except for that lottery part...), and I don't like it. Not one little bit. Because just when you get all your dreams handed to you on a silver platter, that's when an airplane dumps its sewage on your house. Or your mama's diabetes takes a bad turn. Or your mobile phone gets stuck in your hoohaw. (What? It happens...)

I'm not too proud to admit that finding Mr. Right involves swiping right. Right? Welcome to dating in avocado toastland. Here I am, on my first blind date, ever, courtesy of a smartphone app and my two annoying best friends. So what is Chris "Fletch" Fletcher doing, walking across the room, looking at his phone like he's pattern matching a picture to find a real person he's never met before? Oh. Oh, no. The guy I drop-kicked in seventh grade cannot be my blind date. The guy who earned me this infernal nickname.

The series continues with a zany post-Vegas-wedding mess where Andrew and Amanda have to figure out who they married (book nine), the chauffeur/bodyguard has his own second-chance romance (book 10), and Shannon and Declan have a honeymoon with a lot of, erm...bite (book 11). How could you go wrong with so much laughter, heart, and plenty of steamy romance?

When I was young and impulsive (okay, it was only five years ago, alright?) I let my boyfriend take, let's just say...compromising pictures of me. (Shut up. It made sense at the time.) Surprise! The sleazy back-stabbing jerk posted them on a website and, well, you can guess what happened. I’m a meme. Now I get tagged on social media whenever anyone shares them. You try getting a thousand notifications a day, all of them pictures of your tatas. It’s time for revenge. But how do you get embarrassingly intimate pictures of your jerkface ex who double-crossed you five years ago?