Showing results by author "Kate O'Keeffe" in All Categories

I’m the queen of dating disasters - I’ve had more rotten dates than you can shake a long-stemmed rose at. After years of one disappointment after another, I’m beginning to feel like I’ll never say “I do.” So after being dumped one too many times, I do something stupid: I make a pact with my best friend Asher. If neither of us is married by 35, we tie the knot. I’ve got to meet Mr. Right by then, don’t I? But when I take a job redecorating Asher’s bachelor pad, I realize he’s a lot different from the guy I thought he was.

One thing I’ve learned this Valentine’s day is that fake fiancés should remain just that: fake. Pretending to be engaged to James Brody, the hot, single London deputy mayor who graces gossip columns, is just a business deal. Nothing more. I’m his appropriately demure fiancée that makes him look like he’s not the playboy the media thinks he is, and he’s my ticket to getting my pushy mum off my back about not being married and producing her two perfect grandchildren. The problem is, I’ve started to enjoy being with James. Then there’s that kiss we shared. Yeah, that.

He needs a royal redemption arc. She needs to keep her distance. The public wants a story, preferably a romantic one. I called him Ledonia's most eligible man-child in a headline. Now I'm living at his palace. After my no-holds-barred exposé on Prince Maximilien goes viral, the royal family doesn't banish me—they hire me. Apparently, the King and Queen think damage control looks like me filming an exclusive behind-the-scenes series on their charming, cocky, scandal-prone son. Prince Max isn't thrilled. In fact, he downright despises me. Which is fine. Because the feeling? Entirely mutual.

Working as the social media manager for a pro hockey team is all fun and games—until you trip into the arms of their biggest flirt during a livestream. Now the fans are shipping us, my boss is thrilled with the engagement, and I'm stuck dodging feelings for Cade Lennox, aka the certified charmer. The problem? My contract says he's off-limits. My heart, unfortunately, didn't get the memo.

It's one thing to be dumped by the huge Hollywood star you thought you were going to marry. It’s quite another to move back to the small town you're both from. As a booby prize for being shown the door by Dex Ryder, everyone is trying to set me up with their son, their nephew, or their long-lost cousin’s gardener. Either that or they’re throwing me pitying looks that say, “You’re a big loser.”

I hate Charlie Cavendish. Rich. Over-privileged. Smug. The guy’s far too good-looking for his own good, and he’s always got that smirk teasing at the edges of his mouth, telling me what he thinks of me. And now, my worst nightmare has come true. Charles Cavendish has moved into my building, which means I can’t avoid seeing him everywhere I go. He’s always there, judging me, especially when I come in late at night. Hey, I can’t help it if my “single American girl in London” writing gig means I’ve got to check out every new club in town.

Taking the bull by the horns is child's play compared to ruling Malveaux. Yet here I am, a Texas girl turned princess, swapping tacos for a tiara. Then I meet Europe's most eligible bachelor, the irritatingly handsome Prince Alexander, and accidentally deck him instead of curtsying. Oops. I'd feel bad if he wasn't such a self-satisfied jerk. Now, I'm racing against a royal clock that ticks with the urgency of a preening peacock, trying not to let down my newfound country or my own wild heart. Alexander?

Cast in a reality dating show, Emma Brady isn’t looking for love. She knows it could be the big break her new activewear line desperately needs. But is putting up with a Mr. Darcy wannabe worth it? Sebastian Huntington-Ross is straight out of an Austen novel, and his looks are perfect for the show’s spotlight. But it’s hard to focus on his chiseled jaw, broad shoulders, and wickedly sexy accent when all Emma can see is his pride, arrogance, and smug demeanor.

When I get dumped during the romantic vows at a wedding, I hit rock bottom. It’s time I got serious about finding a decent man. So, I form a dating pact with two friends who are just as bad at choosing men as me. We agree to vet one another’s dates to weed out the weirdos and jerks. The no more bad dates pact is officially born.

Noah Grant was my first. He was the guy who went from childhood friend to teenage love. The guy I spent one heady, intoxicating summer with, only to have my heart snapped in two—not by him, but by me. Fast forward 12 years and just when I think I’m finally over Noah, he’s back. Older, wiser, hotter.

Cassie is sick of dating. It's been 10 years and it's time to find The One. It's either that or buy a fetching habit and veil and abandon the whole thing. But Cassie believes in love, and she's not ready to give up yet. The pressure is on to find Mr. Right, and Cassie's the first to find him: Parker Hamilton. He's good-looking, smart, cultured - and a doctor. Despite his obvious credentials, Cassie's not taking any chances. She's vetted Parker so thoroughly she could offer some pointers to the CIA. Needless to say, he passes with flying colors.

What do you do when your NHL superstar ex skates back into your small town? Drop to the ground and hide behind the bleachers, hoping he doesn't see you. But Lady Luck must be in a bad mood today because Dan spots me, my hood over my eyes, pretending I'm not there. Mature? No. Necessary? Oh, yes. Humiliation washes over me, and the wall around my heart stands firm. Dan might be back, but I can't afford to let him in again. Not after the heartbreak of losing him once before. When he offers to coach my nephew, I reluctantly agree.

Note to self: Next time I need a big story, maybe don't pick a fight with a hot hockey player dressed as Santa. Especially if he's hiding something . . . Holly: My assignment to cover the Chicago Blizzard's Christmas charity events turns unexpectedly into a viral feud with star defenseman...

Being a princess means living by 1200+ rules—I've counted them all in my leather-bound journal—including Rule #124: "No climbing trees" and Rule #592: "A princess must never leave the palace without security detail." So when I swap my tiara for a goth disguise and escape the palace for a grand adventure as "Amy," I'm breaking every royal protocol imaginable. Hiding from paparazzi, I meet a gorgeous American stranger who's also on the run.

I've got 99 problems, and picking the wrong guy might be all of them. I've always had my royal checklist: Attend the Husband Hunting Ball? Check. Find the perfect match for a princess like me? Check. Feel zero sparks with Mr. Right (aka Enzo Revera)? Sadly, double check. But then I meet Marco, Enzo's charming and rugged brother. He's everything I shouldn't want, especially since I've planned my life to avoid the messiness of love. When a twist of fate puts Marco at my side, I can't deny our chemistry, even if he's all wrong for a princess like me.

Gabe and I are the dynamic duo of Hunter's Creek and have been ever since we were kids. My bestie is not only sweet and loyal, but he's totally hot in that flannel-wearing lumberjack way of his. Not that I see him like that. Well, not since we kissed that one time back in high school. Thank goodness we have each other, because life in a small town can bore the socks right off you. At least that was true until Hollywood showed up, bringing along hottie Joe Turner. Joe has my head turning so swiftly, I might just earn a degree in neck gymnastics.

Moving back to my Washington hometown is tough, but having Oliver Langdon as my neighbor is a whole lot tougher. He's the big shot behind Steamy Coffee, the same chain that's making life hard for the café I'm running for my aunt right next door. Sure, Oliver's got that tall, dark, and seriously-stop-being-so-handsome vibe going on. And yeah, I flirted with him before I knew he was my business rival. But chiseled jawlines aren't my kryptonite. He's the competition, plain and simple—even if things between us are heating up more than a cup of his fancy espresso.