Melanie Harlow - book author
USA Today bestselling author of sweet and sexy romance. Lover of cocktails, high heels, and history with the naughty bits left in. Michigan girl. INTJ. Always seeking ginspiration...
FULL LIST OF BOOKS:
Melanie Harlow is the author of books: Frenched (Frenched, #1), Some Sort of Crazy (Happy Crazy Love, #2), Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love, #3), Man Candy (After We Fall, #1), Irresistible (Cloverleigh Farms, #1), Some Sort of Happy (Happy Crazy Love, #1), After We Fall (After We Fall, #2), Yanked (Frenched, #1.5), Undeniable (Cloverleigh Farms, #2), Insatiable (Cloverleigh Farms, #3)
But my friends convinced me that bitter tastes better drowned in Bordeaux, so I came to Paris for a single-moon.
Then I met him. He's shown me things I’ve never seen before, and I’m not talking about the Louvre.
Is it just the seduction of Paris? Or could this be the real thing?
Who could possibly make her want to throw all that away?
Then Miles Haas comes back to town.
But he’s no stranger—they’ve known each other since high school. Plus, he’s only around for the summer, he’s still a shameless playboy, and he makes a living writing articles for a men’s magazine with titles like 'Should You Bang the Boss’s Daughter? A Flowchart' and 'Butt Stuff for Beginners: A Field Guide.'
He’s not the man of her dreams, and she’s not about to abandon everything she’s worked so hard for just for a little fun. Except he makes her laugh like no one else, smells like heaven, and looks sexy as hell in those panty-melting glasses.
**SOME SORT OF CRAZY is a full-length standalone romance.**
Until the day I ran into him—my one night stand from college with the crooked smile, let’s-get-out-of-here eyes, and dirty, dirty mouth.
Cute and cocky then, today Levi Brooks is six feet four inches of hot bearded fantasy. A sexy single dad with broad shoulders, strong hands, and a fantastically big … heart. (I mean, it’s massive. And generous. And it pumps so hard … um. Sorry. Lost my place.)
Being a good father means everything to him, but he's keeping me at a distance because he thinks I deserve someone better — a man who can give me more time, more attention, more of himself. He doesn’t believe he could ever be enough.
But he's wrong.
Not just back in town, but living in the flat right beneath mine. And he looks good enough to eat, which is just one more reason to stay away from him.
But I can’t resist.
The sex is incredible (pretty sure we’ve shaken the house right off its foundation), but he can’t fool me—not this time. A degree in marketing and five years in advertising have taught me that “true love” is a fairy tale used to sell lipstick, diamonds, and perfume. It doesn’t exist.
He thinks I’m wrong, and he wants to prove it.
I think he’s crazy, so I dare him to try.
It might be the biggest mistake of my life.
Sure, Frannie Sawyer is beautiful and sweet, but she’s twenty-seven, the boss’s daughter, and my new part-time nanny—which means she’s completely off-limits. It’s bad enough I can’t stop fantasizing about her, what kind of jerk would I be if I acted on the impulse to kiss her?
(Exactly the kind of jerk you’re thinking.)
Actually, I’m worse than that—because I didn’t stop with a kiss, and now I can’t stay away. She makes me feel like myself again. She reminds me what it’s like to want something just for me. She’s everything I ever needed, but nothing I ever imagined.
I’m a former Marine. I should have had the strength to resist her from the start.
But I didn’t. And now I have to choose between the life I want and the life she deserves.
Even if it means giving her up.
But happiness never lasts, not for someone like me.
I have to protect us both.
Sebastian Pryce. He’s the most complicated, frustrating, beautiful man I’ve ever met, and my body craves his with a hunger I’ve never known.
My heart is his completely.
Why won’t he let me in?
** SOME SORT OF HAPPY is a full-length standalone romance. **
Sexy, brooding cowboys are fine in the movies, but in real life, I prefer a suit and tie. Proper manners. A close shave.
Jack might be gorgeous, but he’s also scruffy, rugged, and rude. He wants nothing to do with a “rich city girl” like me, and he isn’t afraid to say so.
But I’ve got a PR job to do for his family’s farm, so he’s stuck with me and I’m stuck with him. His glares. His moods. His tight jeans. His muscles.
His huge, hard muscles.
Pretty soon there’s a whole different kind of tension between us, the kind that has me misbehaving in barns, trees, and pickup trucks. I’ve never done anything so out of character—but it feels too good to stop.
And the more I learn about the grieving ex-Army sergeant, the better I understand him. Losing his wife left him broken and bitter and blaming himself. He doesn’t think he deserves a second chance at happiness.
But he’s wrong.
I don’t need to be his first love. If only he’d let me be his last.
Fed up with stolen weekends and lonely nights, Mia flies to New York armed with a list of reasons why they should take the next step, but an unexpected guest in Lucas's apartment derails her plans. He’s been keeping secrets--worse, he claims he's happy with the way things are.
Without the magic of Paris, can their mismatched love survive?
(You can also break a collarbone, which served him right as far as I was concerned.)
I wish I could say it was the last dare I ever took from him, the last bet I ever made with him, the last time I ever trusted Oliver Ford Pemberton.
But it wasn’t.
Because he had the nerve to grow up gorgeous, charming, and sexy. And as we got older, the dares only got dirtier—and the betting stakes higher—until finally, he left me in pieces. I swore I’d never talk to him again.
But twenty years after I took that flying leap, he’s back in my life, daring me to risk everything for him: my job, my self-worth, and my heart.
How many chances does love deserve?
It had to be, right?
Because Noah McCormick and I have never been anything more than friends. In all the years I’ve known him, he’s never once laid a finger on me. And even though he was a cute lifeguard at 16 and a hotter-than-hell sheriff’s deputy at 34, he's always been that protective guy I could trust to keep his hands to himself. I never wanted to mess with that.
Until I walked in on him getting out of the shower and saw his hard, muscular body totally bare and dripping wet. At that moment I never wanted to mess with anything so badly in my entire life.
I should have covered my eyes. Said I was sorry. At the very least, I could have handed him a towel.
After all, I was only in town for a few days, and he was just doing me a favor by escorting me to my sister’s wedding. It wasn’t a real date.
But I didn’t apologize. And he didn’t cover up.
(Talk about a hot mess.)
After all those years of being just friends, suddenly we’re insatiable.
He’s made it clear he’s not interested in romance. Which is fine with me because I’ve got a plane ticket back to my real life at the end of the week.
It’s all in fun...or is it?