Showing results by author "Penelope Ward" in All Categories

I’d never forgotten him - a man I’d yet to meet. Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break. Until one day, it did. Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one - one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing. Griffin forgave me, and we were able to rekindle our childhood connection.

When the board of directors of my company mandated that I go to a wellness facility in small-town Maine to recharge, that shouldn’t have included using a ladder to sneak out of the bedroom window at night and going to the local bar. But Brock Hawkins was so much more than just the hot bar owner. He owned half the town, built log cabins with his bare hands, and was apparently the most eligible man in all of Meadowbrook.

The last thing Dorian Vanderbilt expected was to find me painting in my crop top when he returned to the mansion he hadn’t inhabited in years. He was understandably surprised I’d turned his living room into an art space. Life is certainly full of surprises, though, but not always in a good way. I learned that lesson when my aunt and the billionaire she married died unexpectedly while traveling. I’d been living with them, and just like that, my life was turned on its axis.

Rule number one for having a one-night stand: Don’t fall for the girl. After a lengthy dating slump, I finally met someone who sparked my interest. Well, first the sparks flew when we argued. Later in the evening those sparks ignited into something more. I was drawn to Devyn, in a way I hadn’t felt in a really long time. Needless to say, I was disappointed when she abruptly left after our amazing night together. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But she hadn’t even given me her number. In a city with eight-million people, I figured I’d never see Devyn again.

The beginning of my sophomore year in college was off to a rough start. On the first day of orientation, I had an altercation with an infuriating British dude in a campus bathroom. (The ladies’ room was out of order. So, I used the men’s room. Don’t judge.) I got home later that night and realized that the foreign student we were expecting to rent a room in my parents’ house was allergic to our cat. So, the spare room went to someone else: Caleb - the British guy from the men’s room. And so it began...my love-hate story with Caleb Yates. Or was it hate-love in that order?

Rule number one for dating your best friend’s sister: Don’t. Just don’t do it. Especially when your best friend is dead and the last thing he made you promise him was that you’d keep an eye on his little sister, but not too good of an eye.

The last thing I needed was a live-in bodyguard. And I definitely didn’t want him. Six foot two, with broad shoulders that were impossible to ignore and a talent for getting in my way, Wes Callahan was a walking bad decision. But when you’re the daughter of a notorious mob boss, apparently your opinions stop mattering the moment your father ignites another war. I’d spent my entire life trying to escape that crooked world—new name, new city, newfound freedom. At least until I was suddenly shacked up with my new bodyguard.

Two weeks in a tiny house in a small town with the woman who broke my heart. Or was it me who broke hers? It was complicated. And it was about to be a heck of a lot more complicated sharing one bed in the guest room with a woman who wasn’t mine anymore.

No one but me knew why I was actually in the California desert that day. Nestled deep within the desolate, rocky area was a recording studio. When a door suddenly opened, a man mistook me for someone he was supposed to be interviewing for a job. The next thing I knew, I was whisked inside. The position? An assistant on the upcoming tour for one of America’s most famous rock bands. Pretty exciting opportunity for a twenty-two-year-old, just out of college. Not surprisingly, I bombed the interview.

A new, sexy standalone novel from New York Times Bestsellers Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward.

It was the summer of my life. I’d met the guy of my dreams. Unfortunately, he was the son of my uppity employer - and very much off-limits. But Gavin was a rebel. He knew his mother would disown him if she found out about us; in his eyes, we just had to be careful. He never treated me as his mother did - like hired help. Instead, Gavin put me on a pedestal and loved me harder than I’d ever been loved in my life.

At first, I thought I’d hate spending the summer with Archie Remington—the conceited son of my parents’ friends. What I knew about Archie: He was gorgeous, pre-law, and had always treated me like I didn’t exist when we were younger. When our families bought a house together on an island in Maine, he and I were forced to share a bathroom.

The day I showed up to Dax Moody’s sprawling home, I had no idea what was coming. As a traveling massage therapist, I was used to entering the houses of strangers. But this assignment was different from any before it. From the outside, I’d correctly assumed the owner was rich. What I didn’t realize was that he would be younger than I’d imagined, single, stunningly gorgeous, and mysterious.

It’s natural to want the one you can’t have. And for as long as I could remember, I’d secretly wanted my brother’s best friend, Jace. He was six years older and always treated me like the sister he never had. Fast forward a decade. We were all in our 20s now. Jace had moved in with my brother, Nathan, and me to help us make ends meet after our parents died. It was just the three of us - an odd family dynamic. Living under our roof, Jace was as bossy and protective as ever. But he certainly didn’t look at me like a sister anymore. That was what made things so complicated.

When my best friend Taylor gifted me a vacation at a resort owned by his grandparents, the last thing I expected was to bond with a man seventeen years older. Tate was also vacationing alone. He’d come to Midnight Key to clear his head and reevaluate his life. I’d come to get over my high school sweetheart who’d dumped me. I’d spotted the brawny, tattooed Adonis in the lobby on the first day and thought he had to be someone’s hot dad.

It all started with an unexpected phone call. Two years after my fiancé passed away in an accident, his father died suddenly, leaving Brad’s adult special-needs brother with no one to care for him. The next thing I knew, I was on a cross-country drive to New Hampshire where I’d be moving in to look after Scottie until I could get him into a group home. The last thing I ever expected? I wouldn’t be taking care of him alone.

Damien had been listening to all of my phone sessions with my therapist. The sexy artist next door now knew all of my deepest secrets and insecurities. We got to talking. He set me straight with tips to get over my breakup. He became a good friend, but Damien made it clear that he couldn’t be anything more. Problem was, I was falling hard for him anyway. And as much as he pushed me away, I knew he felt the same…because his heartbeat didn’t lie.

It all started with a mysterious blue note sewn into a wedding dress. Something blue. I’d gone to sell my own unworn bridal gown at a vintage clothing store. That’s when I found another bride’s “something old". Stitched into the lining of a fabulously feathered design was the loveliest message I’d ever read: Thank you for making all of my dreams come true.

I’m falling for the father of the baby I’m carrying. The problem is: it’s not my baby. And the broody widower is not looking for a long-term partner. As a surrogate, the deal was that I’d only be in England long enough to give birth. At first, the man seemed as pretentious as his name: Sigmund Benedictus. He and I butted heads. Sig challenged my intentions, accused me of just wanting to do this for the money. Gradually, he learned to trust me.

When my stepbrother, Elec, came to live with us my senior year, I wasn’t prepared for how much of a jerk he’d be. I hated that he took it out on me because he didn’t want to be here. I hated that he brought girls from our high school back to his room. But what I hated the most was the unwanted way my body reacted to him. At first, I thought all he had going for him were his rock-hard tattooed abs and chiseled face. But things started changing between us, and it all came to a head one night.