Showing results by author "J.S. Cooper" in All Categories

Dear Grumpy Horrible Boss, You suck as a lawyer. I don't even know how you passed the bar. Or how you sleep at night taking clients like Jack Whittington. Just in case you didn't know, you can't fire me just because I have a part-time job working bachelor parties. What I do on the weekend is none of your business and not a part of my employment contract. If I want to go back to wearing coconut bikinis and popping out of cakes, I can. As soon as I get my big break as an actress, I will be leaving your employ. I am literally counting down the days.

Dear Sir/Madam, I would like to nominate my jerkface of a boss, Kingston Chase, for the worst boss of the year award. I don't know if that's a category at your esteemed paper as yet, but if not, it should be. Yours Sincerely, Skye Redding.

During the day, I work for Dylan McAllister, the hunky billionaire who became CEO of his own company at 30. He may be one of the hottest men I’ve ever met in my life, but he’s also the boss from hell. The only reason I’m still his secretary is because I have debt up to my eyeballs, thanks to student loans and an ex who conned me into letting him use my credit cards. Mr. McAllister has no idea that I, his “mousey little secretary”, have a night job just so I can quit as soon as possible. That is until I end up at a bachelor party for his brother.

TJ asked me to be his fiancé for four weeks. I'm hoping to make the engagement real. I know. I can't believe it either. What am I thinking? There are so many things that could go wrong by accepting to be TJ's four-week fiancé. But, I can't stop thinking that there are also so many things that could go right.

City girl in Montana looking for her Romeo. Sounds like the start to a Hallmark movie right? Well, it would, if they had movies about idiot women flying across the country to marry a man they’d never met. That’s what I did. I responded to an ad in a newspaper that I found on the train. And now I’m trying to find Horseshoe Ranch so that I can marry some cowboy I’ve never even seen. And no, this isn’t the 1800s. I’m just desperate. To make matters worse, the cowboy doesn’t even know I’m coming. I figured life couldn’t get any worse in Montana. I was wrong.

Dear Remington Parker, You may think you're the handsome prince of the law firm and I'm your dutiful wench, but I'm not here to be your plaything. Yes, you're handsome-ish. Yes, you're a partner at the firm. Yes, I'm your ugly duckling assistant. But no, I'm not desperate, and I don't want you. I have no interest in being the nanny to your newly found kid when you want to go on dates. And I have even less interest in your offer to teach me the ways of the world. In fact, after my makeover, I'm pretty sure I'll have plenty of men wanting to help me discover the joys of companionship.

Dear diary, I’m having the absolute worst week. I’m having the absolute worst week. I was fired from my job at the coffee shop because of some ridiculously grumpy hot Wall Street-looking banker and a bad cup of coffee I made. But the story gets worse because the guy that got me fired is now my new boss. I, Harriet Campbell, am now a housekeeper for a billionaire. And get this, this morning, he walked into my bedroom at 5:00 a.m. demanding his breakfast, and I may have told him to make it himself, which led to him pulling the sheets off the bed and revealing that I slept in the nude....

To the rude guy in apartment five, I’m glad you’re happy to have moved into a new apartment, but no: I do not want to have a beer with you. I do not want to have a nude sleepover. I do not want to make you breakfast, lunch or dinner, no matter how many lap dances you promise to give me. I do not need you to serenade me through the walls at 1am. And no, I have no interest in letting you take me on a date. Sincerely, Magnolia Allen

It had been one year, two months and seventeen days since my last date. So my best friend Abby decided to sign me up for a dating app. She guaranteed that she could get me the best date of my life within one week. I didn’t really want to do it, but I figured what did I have to lose? Turns out that I had.

When I sent the steamy midnight text with a sensual photo, I knew exactly who I was sending it to. I’d taken the number from my older sister’s phone, because I knew she didn’t want me flirting with her boyfriend’s best friend and business partner. So when he pretended he didn’t know who I was, I decided to go along with it. Having an illicit text relationship with someone I’d been forbidden from flirting with was fun and exciting.

Wyatt Hamilton has been my best friend since I was in diapers. He is the yin to my yang and we’ve always been inseparable. But now I’m trying to break away because I’m ready to find a man that looks at me as more than his best friend. Wyatt isn’t getting the hint that I need my space. I’m doing everything in my power to ensure that he sees that I’m now a woman and I’m looking for a man. Even if that means that we can’t be in each other’s lives as much anymore. I never expected to find out that my best friend wasn’t just a cowboy, but a confident alpha male as well.

The New York Times best-selling serial, available in one boxed set. Includes The Private Club, The Private Club 2, and The Private Club 3.

"To Mr. Tate Howard, You are quite possibly the most infuriating, annoying and grumpy man I’ve ever met in my life. I know you think that you’re God’s gift to women, but I have a secret to let you in on: you’re not. You’re God’s gift to yourself. Get over your wanna-be cool surfer self and grow up. I thought it was time that someone addressed your big head and told you straight to your face that you're not all that. Just because you have an Ivy league education doesn’t mean you’re the smartest man in the world."

To Marco (No I’m not going to add Polo), Last night was a mistake. A big mistake. Or rather should I say small? I don’t want to hurt your ego. I should have listened to your sister. You’re insufferable and rude and far too cocky. Don’t worry, I won’t be telling anyone what happened because as far as I’m concerned it never did. Please stop calling me. I do not need to come and collect my bra from you. Or the t-shirt you lent me to sleep in when I got cold. No, that one act doesn’t make you a gentleman. And no, I do not need to have your smell near me to fall asleep.

Tyler Redwood, you might be my brother’s best friend, but I find you to be insufferable, cocky, arrogant, immature, and totally annoying. You are not God’s gift to women and certainly not a gift to me. No, I don’t need you to wrap yourself in a bow. And even if you did, I would not be unwrapping it.

I pretended to be the girlfriend of one of the richest men in New York City. It was only meant to be the one time. I mean it was the week before Christmas, I was shopping with my best friend and we were hungry and wanted to dine at the new swanky restaurant on the upper west side. For some reason the hostess misheard me when I mentioned Max Parker’s name. I’d been complaining that he was the reason why I’d lost my job. Who was I to correct her when it meant that “my relationship” had caused a table to suddenly open up?

I never intended to actually send the email. I’m not crazy. It was just a way to vent. I actually did need the money way too much to go off on my boss. Only when I went into office the next day, there was a note on my desk. It read, “A million years is up. See me in my office.”

Three days ago, I didn’t even know Simon Cambridge existed. If it wasn’t for one drunken night out with my friends, I would never have met Mr. Cocky Pants. I certainly never would have entered into a bet with him if I’d known then what I know now. And if I hadn’t lost the bet I wouldn’t have to work for him for the next month. Today is only day one and he’s already driving me crazy.

When Liv Taylor met a handsome stranger at a friend's wedding, she decided to give in to temptation. It was lust at first sight, and when she followed the man she nicknamed Mr. Tongue into a room before the wedding ceremony she experienced pleasure like she'd never experienced before. That was why she agreed to one night in his hotel room: one night of unbridled passion. That was all it was supposed to be.

Beau Hamilton is the biggest catch in Montana. He’s handsome, funny, and rich. As the oldest son and heir to one of the largest ranches in the state, he’s one of the most eligible bachelors around. And he knows it. His brother is marrying my best friend, and we’re both in the bridal party. He’s the best man, and I’m the maid of honor. I thought that he was a perfect gentleman until the night of the joint bachelor-bachelorette party. We did things that nobody should ever know about. Not even my best friend.