Showing results by author "Rosalind James" in All Categories

Three best-selling sweet and steamy New Zealand rugby romances: Just This Once (Audie nominee in Romance, 2015), Just Good Friends, and Just for Now.

Rhys Fletcher is not in love with his sister-in-law. That would be a very, very bad idea, and he doesn’t entertain bad ideas. He also doesn’t lie to himself. Both of those things can’t be true, so he’ll do what he’s done since the long-ago night when his brother, Dylan, turned up in an Auckland bar after a brutal rugby match between their two teams, and introduced his new girlfriend - a dark-eyed, much-too-young girl named Zora. He’ll lie. Now, his brother’s gone, and Rhys is back in New Zealand and settling into his new job as the head coach of the Auckland Blues

Even princesses have problems. That line doesn’t exactly invite sympathy, does it? I was a fairly ersatz princess anyway, although you should try convincing my mother of that. And when I ran away from my family, my tech-bro groom, my almost-Stanford degree, and our fabulous future and right back to my trailer-living, hard-hatted life? Even I couldn’t explain it to anybody’s satisfaction.

What happens in Fiji stays in Fiji. Except when it doesn't. Emma Martens and Nic Wilkinson have no history together except one perfect week. Nothing in common anymore except the most important thing of all. Getting together again would be messy. Complicated. Scary. And, just maybe, worth every risk....

There's that phrase, though. "How's that working out for you?" The answer, when it came to Hope Sinclair, was, "not so well". She might be little, she might be sweet, and she might be young, but if I'd thought she'd be compliant anywhere but in bed, I'd learned my lesson. To keep her, I had to let her go. To hold her, I had to turn her loose. To have her in my life, I had to accept that she was 9,000 miles away in New Zealand.

Nic Wilkinson is a responsible, organized, disciplined rugby player at the top of his game. Emma Martens is a sometimes-scattered, often-emotional, and always-broke would-be designer with a big chip on her shoulder where Nic's concerned. They have no history together, except one perfect week. Nothing in common anymore, except the most important thing of all. Getting together again would be messy. Complicated. Scary. And, just maybe, worth every risk.

Escape to New Zealand once again with the new series from best-selling author Rosalind James. Hours of funny, heartwarming, heart-pounding, steam-inducing entertainment, starting with combat of both the military and the more metaphorical sort and ending with an escape from a religious cult, with plenty of stops along the way.

Kevin McNicholl may be a brutal force on the rugby field, but off the field, the star New Zealand All Black is a famously nice guy. His new tenant, though, arouses more than his protective side. She sets him on fire. Pity he's evicting her. Every woman deserves her dreams. Chloe Donaldson can't afford dreams, though, so she's given them up. Marriage, her ballet career, and now, her beautiful tower apartment with its view of the sea. Her new landlord is kicking her out, along with her three-year-old son, Zavy.

When you walk out of a cult with a driving license and the clothes on your back, you can face some challenges. How does a cooker work, and what do you cook on it? Is microwave pizza actually food, and how many times can you eat sausages before you never want to smell them again? And what do people put in all those bathroom drawers?

Nate Torrance has a job to do, and the biggest rugby boots in the world to fill. He can't afford to lose his focus, especially not to a brown-eyed Canadian who pushes all his buttons and looks much too good in a climbing harness. Allison Villiers may not know what she wants to do with her life, but she's clear about one thing. She's not impressed by the new captain of the All Blacks, however big a deal he is to the rest of New Zealand.

Kate Lamonica isn't Koti James' type. Too small. Too dark. And heaps too much work. So it's an easy bet that he can be her friend for six weeks without making a move on her, no matter what his mates would have said. Kate can't believe she's made the bet at all. New Zealand had seemed like the perfect escape from the stalker who'd threatened first her peace of mind and then her life. She certainly doesn't need any more trouble. Why on earth has she agreed to spend time with a Maori rugby player who's far too handsome and charming for his own good - and knows it?

Christmas means summer in New Zealand and All Blacks wedding season, too. Plans made and plans changed, because no matter how well you plan, life happens. Especially if, say, you’re marrying your late husband’s brother, you’ve got a couple of kids in the mix, and everybody’s talked too much about all that already. And then, there’s the rest of the family. A stepbrother who’s carried too big a secret for 30 years and needs to lay that burden down.

Rescuing a woman dressed in a nightdress at a costume ball? That worked for me. And holding her up against the wall, to shield her from the cops, was pure enjoyment. Driving with her to a barbecue, a fruit salad in my lap, and her twins - her girl twins - in the back seat? Out of my comfort zone. And that was before she started asking me for dating lessons, and wondering how to explain that she couldn’t have sex before marriage. I had it under control, though. I was coping. Until four sisters of mine decided to go looking for their sperm donor.

Hemi Ranapia isn’t looking for love. Fun, yes. Love, not so much. But a summer fishing holiday to laid-back Russell could turn out to be more adventure than this good-time boy ever bargained for. Reka Harata hasn't forgotten the disastrously hot rugby star she met a year ago, no matter how much she wishes she could. Too bad Hemi keeps refusing to be left in her past.

I never asked Hemi Te Mana to rescue me. It was true that I had a lousy job. Not to mention a lousy apartment and too much responsibility, although it was a responsibility I wouldn't have given up for the world. That still didn't mean I needed rescuing, if that was what you'd call the situation I ended up in. And anyway, I knew that a multimillionaire Maori CEO with too many muscles, a tribal tattoo, and a take-no-prisoners attitude was way, way out of my league.

Meet a big-city cop trying to run her twin’s small-town lingerie shop and milk her goats, an Australian actor/professional werewolf who’s getting pretty bloody tired of hearing his tagline quoted back to him, an American businessman terrified of water who’s forced to wade into the Australian surf in his shirt and tie, and much more.

Luka Darkovic has some tackling skills. He hadn’t planned on using them to bring down a runaway dog the size of a Shetland pony, especially not when his neck is already buggered. At 33, a rugby forward protects his vertebrae.... He’s even less happy when the dog’s incompetent owner turns up in his hospital cubicle the next day with a plan to fix those vertebrae. He prefers his life simple and his neurosurgeons drama-free. And definitely less distracting.

Marko Sendoa isn't a beach man. He's not an Auckland man. He's a hard man. Born Basque, raised in the heart of New Zealand's Southern Alps, and bred on hard work, discipline, and getting the job done. It's not easy for a rugby flanker to make it to age 32 at the top of his game, but he's done it. Next year is the Rugby World Cup, and he'll do whatever it takes to be on the field in the black jersey when the anthems are sung. He doesn't need a kitten. He doesn't need a pregnant cousin. He definitely doesn't need a too-short, distractingly curvy, totally unimpressed Maori barista.

Breathe, smile, and move on. When you’re writing the next chapter in your rags-to-riches-to-rags story, you need about a million quotes like that. I might have been short on inspiration, but I had determination. That was it, except for a very young cousin and a very old campervan, but I was all about starting over. Nobody knew me in New Zealand other than a series of café and motel managers, and anonymity suited me fine. Manlessness suited me even finer.

Running for your life is never easy. Doing it at age 16, after losing your family, your friends, and your home, with three-quarters of a priceless emerald parure sewn into the sleeves of a battered old Army greatcoat and your beloved city in flames behind you, is harder still. Why did I do it? Because I had no choice. The Red Army was knocking at Dresden’s door, and the Jewish family hiding in our cellars had been marked for transportation to the camps.