Showing results by author "Julia Kent" in All Categories

My mother wants all her kids and grandkids to spend Christmas Eve at her house and wake up on Christmas morning together. Sounds reasonable, right? And it would be. If it weren’t my mother. My husband, Declan, is protesting any involvement, though he’s openly intrigued by the idea of claiming his territory by having sex in my childhood bed. And by intrigued, I mean a series of really hot suggestions that make me whimper when I have to say no. Wait - why am I saying no, again?

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.

We're ready. We've studied and planned, read all the birth and labor books, researched parenting classes, consulted our schedules, and it's time. And by "we", I mean me. Declan's just ready for the "have lots of sex" part. More than ready. But there's just one problem: My husband and his brother have this little obsession with competition. McCormick men don't just have babies. They engage in competitive billionaire Babythons.

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.

I'm thrilled to be the maid of honor in my friend's wedding, but the best man, Andrew McCormick, is a chauvinistic pig with a god complex. And I can't stop kissing him in closets.

When mystery shopper Shannon Jacoby meets billionaire Declan McCormick with her hand down a toilet in the men's room of one of his stores, it's love at first flush in this hilarious new romantic comedy from New York Times best-selling author Julia Kent.

Snowbound. Sounds so romantic, with visions of cuddling before a roaring fire, hot chocolate spiked with brandy, and a secret elopement. Wait. What? My fiancé's father won't stop trying to turn our pending wedding into a three-ring media circus so he can get free publicity for his family's Fortune 500 company. My mother has decided she's done with All Things Wedding and asks her teacup Chihuahua for mother-of-the-bride advice. They've all gone certifiably mad.

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.

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.

Dad gave me my late mother's engagement ring, platinum and diamonds galore. Shannon wouldn't care if I slid a giant hard-candy ring on her finger instead of a three-carat diamond designed to impress. But my future mother-in-law, Marie, will pass out when she sets eyes on that rock, which will give us two minutes of blessed silence ... I was going to make it perfect, from the color of the tablecloth to the freshness of the roses. And it was perfect...until Shannon swallowed the ring.

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?

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.

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.

How do you top the perfect wedding to the perfect man in the best hometown with the greatest best friends ever? With an even better reception. And how do you top the best reception ever? With the picture-perfect honeymoon in Fiji. Except when our past comes back to haunt us, things don’t go quite as planned.

New York Times best-selling author Julia Kent continues her Shopping for a Billionaire series as mystery shopper Shannon and (near) billionaire Declan explore a relationship (and each other). The pair deal with a jealous ex-boyfriend, a new perk at work that makes Shannon rethink her job, and a cat that offers up quite a present when Declan takes Shannon out for their first non-business date.

Shannon and Declan's first real date ends with an ambulance trip and yet another test of their madcap relationship. Ex-boyfriend Steve insists on dinner with Shannon while Declan is overseas on business, but a surprise return leads to plenty of romance as Declan whisks her away for a ride over Boston (in more ways than one...) .

Ten years ago, my high school crush found me during senior finals week in the student parking lot with my car decorated with items you find behind a drugstore counter and a "Most Likely to..." banner that would make a pro blush. And by "pro", I don't mean golf. In under an hour, everything I knew about myself was turned upside down and inside out, just as our high school career was in its final hours.

I swear I am not the kind of person who gets her cell phone caught in places that require an ER trip and an OBGYN. But apparently, I am. I’m also not the kind of person who spends all her time thinking about the guy who got away. But apparently, I am, too. Starting a new life in Boston isn’t supposed to include repeatedly embarrassing myself in public, meeting a crazy blond woman who has ties to the band Random Acts of Crazy, and definitely isn’t supposed to include wallowing in a past I thought I’d left behind four years ago.

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...)