Showing results by author "Claire Contreras" in All Categories

Finneas Alexander Barlow is a walking thirst trap. Tall, hot, and broody. Tousled brown hair, chiseled jaw, alluring green eyes, perfect teeth, well-groomed beard, broad shoulders, and lips good enough to bite. He’d look like a Disney prince if the prince was a broody ahole. Four years ago, a fated meeting led to an inevitable hook-up. Just one. It’s his rule. One-time hook-ups, no information exchanges, and no repeats. I knew that even before he established his boundaries, and he kept his promise. I hadn’t seen or heard from him since.

My reputation at Fairview University preceded me. I was the projected number-one pick in the NHL draft and the fan favorite at the rink. People wanted to be me or be with me. Except for Lyla James Marichal.

I'm naturally gifted on the field and between the sheets. With flashy cars and enough media attention to put the Royal Family to shame, I’m the definition of Most Eligible Bachelor. Every man wants to be me and every woman wants to tame me. Until Camila. The moment I lay eyes on her, I know I have to have her. She wants to keep me at arm's length. I want her naked in my bed. She thinks our worlds are too different. All I want her to think about is screaming my name. She says I’m bad news. I have three weeks to prove her wrong.

If you had any ties to Marbella, it was impossible for you not to have heard the stories about Prince Elias and his debauchery. Every summer he arrived with his security detail and friends in tow and rented out a row of cottages near the water. Cottages that belonged to my family. Each of those summers, my parents sent me away - summer camp and later, boarding school. Anything to keep me away from the royals and their partying. I hadn’t been home in years, but when I finally come back for the summer, I see that not much has changed.

The list of things I hate is short. Not even my soon-to-be ex-husband is on that list. Nope. I save only the worst of the worst, the crème de la crème, the absolute I cannot even for this list: black coffee, rude people, and Nathaniel Bradley. Which is why when my father informs me that he’s making Nathaniel Bradley his new business partner, and in turn, my boss, I flip out. I go into this knowing I’ll hate every second in his presence. Except the longer he’s around, the more I find myself staring at his lips and remembering the one time they were on mine.

I admit I wasn't ready. I know you don't want to look at me, let alone talk to me, but please, let me explain. Let me tell you all the ways my heart broke when you walked away. Let me show you what our years apart have done to me. Give me a chance to find my way back to you....

When my ex-boyfriend’s brother waltzed into the nightclub where I was bartending, looking like he'd just stepped out of the pages of GQ magazine: Wall Street Edition, it felt like fate. Later, when he breaks into my apartment in the middle of the night, demanding to know how I got the bruises around my neck and promising to protect me, it feels a little too much the way things used to. I remind myself that I escaped that life and I'm not the person he once knew, but deep down, I want his help.

I'm naturally gifted on the field and between the sheets. With flashy cars and enough media attention to put the royal family to shame, I'm the definition of most eligible bachelor. Every man wants to be me, and every woman wants to tame me. Until Camila. The moment I lay eyes on her, I know I have to have her. She wants to keep me at arm's length. I want her naked in my bed. She says I'm bad news. I have three weeks to prove her wrong.

My job was to clean up his reputation and find him a wife. It was supposed to be easy, but nothing about Prince Aramis was ever easy. I was about to throw in the towel when he came up with a solution: I'd be his pretend girlfriend. Forget the fact that I was sort of seeing someone, or that I had no interest in joining the royal family. Once Aramis sets his eyes on something, there's no use in fighting him on it. Besides, in a way it would make my job a little easier.

They say when it rains, it pours, but this is some serious BS. It doesn’t help that Bennett was the man I had my last one night stand with. It definitely doesn’t help that he seems to want me just as much as I want him. The issue is, he won’t do anything about it, but then we’re forced to attend a tech conference in Vegas, and I think it may just be what I need to turn this thing around.

You’ve heard of these groups - the secretive ones that only the crème de la crème are invited into, the ones outsiders speculate about for centuries - I’m the second in my family invited to attend, but to them, I’m fresh meat. New blood. New money, too. They think they’ll elbow past me, that I’m here for their amusement, for them to walk all over, they’ll find out soon enough that I’m not.

I lost her. No. I threw her away. She was my best friend. I was never supposed to fall in love with her. I was careless. She was heartbroken. I thought I was doing fine. But here she is, years later, forced to work with me, reminding me why I fell in love with her in the first place. And this time I'm going to do everything in my power to never let her go.

Thirty-nine terrifying stories that will keep you up all night and make you want to call in sick to work. Enjoy stories of karma, fear, supernatural horror, deadly women, and retribution.The Better Off Dead Series delves into the farthest corners of your mind, where your deepest, darkest fears lurk. These masters of horror will haunt your dreams and stalk your nightmares, taking you to the edge of sanity before pushing you to the brink of madness!

Princess Pilar is tired of playing by the rules. She’s sick of the spotlight and being seen as the uptight goody-too-shoes the media has cast her to be. She’s especially tired of the fact that her brothers are allowed to run off and do whatever they want while she sits inside watching the world pass her by. That’s why she decides that while her older brothers are off on their usual summer holidays, she’s going to quietly pack her things and travel to the one place her parents have always forbidden her to step foot on - Ibiza.

I've always been a good girl. The perfect daughter. The perfect sister. And, in two weeks, I'm supposed to become the perfect wife. I don't know or like the man my father chose to marry me off to but I have no say in the matter.

One minute I'm mourning the sudden death of my father, and the next, I'm getting calls from a lawyer saying they need to read me my father's will. As far as I know, my father didn't have much to leave. Or so I thought. Everything topples down at once, the inheritance I'm left with and the truth about what my father did, but the biggest shock of all was finding out he'd married me off to a complete stranger without my consent. By the time I show up at my supposed husband's nightclub, I'm determined to leave with divorce papers signed, but nothing can prepare me for the man awaiting me.

When someone tells you who you are, do you believe them? The first question the cops asked me was if anything out of the ordinary happened to me lately. When I woke up this morning in the room of a mental institution I couldn’t remember a thing – not my name nor how I got there. Not how I left or how I ended up in that interrogation room.

You’ve heard of these groups–the secretive ones that only the crème de la crème are invited into, the ones outsiders speculate about for centuries–I’m the second in my family invited to attend, but to them, I’m fresh meat. New blood. New money, too. They think they’ll elbow past me, that I’m here for their amusement, for them to walk all over, they’ll find out soon enough that I’m not. I may look like one of them, with my designer bags and clothes straight from the Parisian runways, but I’m not.

The first question the cops asked me was if anything out of the ordinary happened to me lately. When I woke up this morning in the room of a mental institution I couldn’t remember a thing - not my name nor how I got there. Not how I left or how I ended up in that interrogation room. The only thing I knew came from the contents inside my bag. A wallet, a student ID, a key that opened an unknown door, and two notebooks. They tell me my name. It matches my IDs. They tell me my story. I shut my eyes and try to piece it together, but can’t.

He was my older brother's best friend. He was never supposed to be mine. I thought we would get it out of our systems and move on. One of us did. One of us left. Now he's back, looking at me like he wants to devour me. And all those feelings I'd turned into anger are brewing into something else, something that terrifies me. He broke my heart last time. This time he'll obliterate it.