Showing results by author "Jasinda Wilder" in All Categories

It was just supposed to be just a 40th birthday prank for our boss after a wild night of girlfriends, laughter, and a lot of margaritas. When we placed the ad in the newspaper, we never thought anyone would actually answer it. We also didn't think that Laurel would be so brainless as to put Lizzy's actual phone number in the ad....

I found an envelope in the mail. No return address. My name on the front, my address. Inside was a check, made out to me, in the amount of 10 thousand dollars. Enough to pay the bills and leave me some left over to live on until I found a job. Enough to let me focus on classes. There was no name on the check, just "VRI Inc.", and a post office box address for somewhere in the city. No hint of identity or reason for the check or anything. No mention of repayment, interest, nothing...except a single word, on the notes line: "You." Just those three letters.

Enjoy all four of the Big Girls Do It stories in one volume, with special expanded scenes available only in this collection! These erotic romance novellas are for adults only! Contains super hot, one-on-one sex between two great characters.

I'm nobody. I'm an orphan. A janitor. A college student. A virgin. And him? He's a god. One of the hottest action stars to ever grace the silver screen, huge and muscular and gorgeous and famous. He could have anyone in the world. Yet, despite the chasm separating my world from his, I find myself in his hotel room, and he's acting like I'm the most beautiful girl in the world. I'm not. He's everything every woman could ever want, and I'm just...me. This is a full length, stand-alone contemporary romance, set in the world of Stripped.

Your wedding day is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, right? That's what they say, at least. I went into that day hoping I'd get the happiest day of my life. What I got? The worst. I mean, you really can't get any worse of a day without someone actually dying. So...I may have gotten just a little drunk, and maybe just a tad impetuous...and landed myself in a dive bar somewhere in Alaska, alone, still in my wedding dress, half wasted and heartbroken.

Ever, I don't know who I am anymore. I'm a castaway. Lost. Drowning. I love you. That's the only true thing I know, and it's all I have to hold on to. I love you. I'll love you forever. Until the day I die, and I'll love you in whatever world comes after this one. I love you so much, Ever. I miss you. Dear Jesus, I miss you. Come back to me. For forever, and after forever, Caden.

So how did I get myself into this situation, you ask? Simple: desperation. When you're faced with being homeless and hungry or taking off your clothes for money, the choice is easier than you'd imagine. That doesn't make it simple, though. Oh no. I hate it, in fact. There's nothing I'd like more than to quit and never go into another bar again, never hear the techno beat pulsing in my ears again, never feel the lecherous gazes of horny men again. Then, one day, I meet a man. He's in my club, front and center. He watches me do my routine, and his gaze is full of hunger.

I wasn't always in love with Colton Calloway; I was in love with his younger brother, Kyle, first. Kyle was my first one true love, my first in every way. Then, one stormy August night, he died, and the person I was died with him. Colton didn't teach me how to live. He didn't heal the pain. He didn't make it okay. He taught me how to hurt, how to not be okay, and, eventually, how to let go.

These letters are often all that get me through week to week. Even if it’s just random stuff, nothing important, they’re important to me. Gramps is great, and I love working on the ranch. But…I’m lonely. I feel disconnected, like I’m no one, like I don’t belong anywhere. Like I’m just here until something else happens. I don’t even know what I want with my future. But your letters, they make me feel connected to something, to someone.

One year ago, I buried my husband. One year ago, I held his hand and said goodbye. Now I spend most of my days lost somewhere between trying to remember every smallest detail of our lives, and trying to forget it all. I fill my hours with work until I’m too exhausted to remember him, to feel anything at all. One year, 365 days - and then one knock at my door changes everything. A letter from him, a last request, a secret will: My dearest Nadia, trust me, my love. One last time, trust me. Sometimes the epilogue to one story is the beginning of another.

It started with a window that was jammed shut. Pretty simple, right? All I wanted was to open the windows while I tidied the house. I'd been after my no-good husband to do it for months, but he never did. And then he shacked up with his secretary, leaving me with a pile of bills, husband-free for the first time in 10 years, and with a house that was falling apart. The ad popped up on the side of my social media feed - a local contracting agency willing to do pretty much anything. Since I don't really know a screwdriver from a ratchet, I gave them a call.

I was a 68 Whiskey - a combat medic. So when I hear someone shout "MEDIC!", training just kicks in. It's automatic, immediate. I don't think I even saw the guy whose leg I tended to, not really. All I saw was him. Zane Badd. His tuxedo fit him like he'd been sewn into it, and his eyes reflected the fury and the hardness of a combat veteran, but when he looked at me, he just...softened. By the time I had his brother patched, Zane and I were both covered in blood, and I knew I had to have him.

Roth and I are on an open-ended tour of the world. Roth being Roth, this means missionary in Morocco, reverse cowgirl in Calcutta, bent over the bow of a houseboat in Hanoi, slow and sleepy on St. John. Anywhere and everywhere, in every conceivable position and some I didn't know were possible. Life is pretty incredible. Until I wake up in his chateau in France alone. On the bed next to me is a note. There are only four words: "He belongs to me."

Nicholas Harris is a professional badass. Ex-Army Ranger, former personal security for the one and only Valentine Roth, mercenary, assassin, pilot, and my lover. After Roth and Kyrie holed up in their island fortress estate in the Caribbean, Nick started a private security contracting company: Alpha One Security. He hired the best of the best, the scariest, nastiest, toughest - and sexiest - security experts in the business.

Jasinda Wilder presents book four of the Dad Bod Contracting series...

Laurel McGillis has a secret: she's a hopeless romantic. She'll deny it up one side and down the other, and all evidence points to the contrary, but it's true. Her deeper secret: she's desperately hoping to be the third victim of The Ad. In this case, Laurel's two secrets are about to cross paths, in the steamiest, most romantic way she could possibly imagine.

Autumn Scott is the second woman at Six Chicks Real Estate to fall victim to "The Ad": "Beautiful, successful single woman in search of a wealthy, handsome man to help her get pregnant the old-fashioned way. Financial validation a must. Serious inquiries only. DM for more info." Problem number one? It works, a little too well, one could argue. Problem number two? Autumn has a dark tragic past keeping her from trusting men at all, let alone wanting a baby with one. Problem number three? Seven St. John doesn't take no for an answer, in the sexiest possible way.

When you make an enemy of a man like Vitaly Karahalios, there is nowhere on Earth you can go to escape his wrath. He'll find you. He found me; he found Roth. He found Layla. He found us, and now the unthinkable has happened. Someone I love has been kidnapped.

I swallow hard. He wasn't supposed to make it sweet. He was supposed to leave it dirty and inappropriate, so I could tell myself all he wanted was sex. That all he cared about was getting me naked, or if not that, then at least seeing me naked. Instead, he turned it sweet. And I couldn't tell myself any lies to keep me on my high horse.

Sorry I vanished like I did. I'm not sure I can even explain things. I don't know when I'll be back. If I'll be back. I'm not sure of anything, except that I love you, Ever. You're my twin, my best friend, and leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done. I know you don't understand. Maybe you never will. I hope you don't, honestly. It would be easier that way. That's cowardly, I'm sure. Cade, take care of her. Love her, the way she deserves. The way you always have, for forever and always.