Molly O’Keefe – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Tue, 17 May 2022 21:32:56 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Molly O’Keefe – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Second Chance at the Riverview Inn – Riverview Inn Read Online Molly O’Keefe http://www.books2020.com/second-chance-at-the-riverview-inn-riverview-inn-read-online-molly-okeefe Tue, 17 May 2022 21:19:56 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/second-chance-at-the-riverview-inn-riverview-inn-read-online-molly-okeefe Categories Genre: Chick Lit, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Second Chance at the Riverview Inn - Riverview Inn

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Molly O'Keefe
Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B08CDYJ3S8
Book Information:

An emotional standalone romance about finding second chances where we least expect them...
Four years ago tragedy hit Helen Larson – hard. But she has her beautiful baby girl, the love and support of her family and a job she’s great at as the fundraiser for Haven House Charity. When she gets a letter from Micah Sullivan, the bad boy, lead singer of her favorite band – Band of Outlaws, offering a sizeable contribution to Haven House, she’s not sure it’s real. But then he invites her to watch rehearsal and things get very real.
Micah Sullivan is a man with some secrets: Helen has saved his life. Twice. Once she doesn’t know about and the other she clearly doesn’t remember. He’s also a man with a problem. When he needs someone to bail him out of jail he takes the opportunity to get Helen back into his life.
It’s not supposed to be serious. It’s not supposed to be love. But the chemistry between them is real and soon, so are their feelings. But if there’s going to be a real second chance between them, he has to come clean about his secrets.
And Helen has to forgive him.
Books by Author:

Molly O'Keefe


Chapter One

“I’m fine,” Helen said.

“Totally fine,” her mom, Daphne, echoed.

They stood in the kitchen of the Athens Organics farmhouse, a bright yellow room with faded wooden floors and breakfast dishes in the sink. The kitchen Helen had grown up in. The safest place in the world.

“And if I become…not fine?” Helen asked. There were so many ways the situation she was walking into could become not fine. A whole spectrum of socially horrifying moments ranging from vomit and spontaneous combustion to, and it seemed completely possible and painfully likely, bursting into tears.

Mom stroked Helen’s back like she was ten and home from school with a stomachache. It was comforting, if not weird, since she was twenty-nine. “Just find a cool dark place, gather your thoughts and you’ll be—”

“Fine.” Helen nodded.

She’d be fine because the worst had already happened to Helen. It was a law of averages kind of thing. Her fiance being killed in a car accident four years ago when Helen was five months pregnant had to insulate her against further disaster, right?

God. If only the world worked like that.

Helen took a deep breath, in through her nose, out through her mouth. Crap. Was that right? She tried it the other way, in through her mouth, out through her nose. And then back the other way.

I’m getting lightheaded.

“Honey,” Mom said, the tone changing. Her mother was about to enable Helen putting on sweatpants and curling up with Bea to watch Encanto for the hundredth time. And she did not need to be enabled in that direction. She was doing this huge (but not really huge) thing. It was happening.

“Don’t honey, me,” Helen said, standing up straight and turning away from her mom to look at herself in the hall mirror. “I’m fine. We established that.”

Any other person in her shoes would be ecstatic. Over the moon. And she was. She was also just really nervous.

She was going to meet her favorite rock group—Band of Outlaws. And her favorite singer—Micah Sullivan. Just thinking his name made her insides gooey and her brain whirr. She loved his voice and his songs, and in a few hours she would be looking right at his face. His in-person face. His super-hot, kind of snarling, kind of smiling face with the scar along his forehead from a bar fight in his misspent youth, and his blue, blue sex eyes.

It was a lot.

“How do I look?” Helen asked, turning to face her mom. “Should I change?” Again.

“You look perfect,” Mom said. Which, well, was a standard Mom answer.

“Am I too casual?” Helen thought about where they were going and who they were meeting. “Not casual enough?”

For a woman who’d spent five months in maternity pants and then three years in yoga pants, she’d lost the thread on What are pants? and Can I wear these out of the house?

“Just the right amount of casual,” Mom said.

Bea, Helen’s three-and-half-year-old daughter, sat at the kitchen island, eating toast dripping with jam. Bea was a more is more kind of kid, especially when it came to jam.

“What do you think, Bea?” Daphne asked, wiping the jam off her daughter’s face. “Is something exciting going to happen to Mommy today?”

“No.” Bea said her favorite word and shook her head seriously.

“I hope you’re wrong kid,” Mom muttered.

This was sweet and all, but Helen was kind of having a moment and she needed Mom to focus.

“Does it look like I’m trying too hard? I mean…” Helen pulled the hem of her favorite denim jacket that she legit wore to her first Band of Outlaws concert. And she wore her nearly threadbare Johnny Cash T-shirt. The one with him giving the finger.

That was cool, right?

AND she was she was wearing jeans. Her good ones. The pre-baby, pre-pandemic ones. That she could get them on was miracle and a testament to anxiety as an appetite suppressant.

“I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard.”

It was the most rock-and-roll look she had. And she thought it was pretty good. But considering her age and single mom status, did that automatically make it lame? Probably.

Was she overthinking everything? Absolutely.

“Honey?” Mom walked back over to Helen, her beautiful long blond hair was turning silver and she didn’t look like she was old enough to be a grandmother. Those good Larson genes. Mom cupped Helen’s face in her hands. “You could not be more beautiful. You could not be more capable. You won’t throw up on his feet. You’re going to be fine.” She glanced down at her watch. “And you’re going to be late.”

As if cued, Helen’s stepfather, Jonah, honked the horn in the driveway.

“And listen.” Mom leaned in conspiratorially. “If the rumors are true…”

“Which rumors?” Micah Sullivan, lead singer of the Band of Outlaws had a lot of rumors attached to him.

“You know the ones.” Mom waggled her eyebrows.


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The Tycoon Read online Molly O’Keefe http://www.books2020.com/the-tycoon-read-online-molly-okeefe Wed, 07 Jun 2017 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/the-tycoon-read-online-molly-okeefe Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
<<<<1231121>69
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Read Online Books/Novels:

The Tycoon

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Molly O'Keefe
Language:
English
Book Information:

The cruel and beautiful man who ruined my life has everything wants—everything except me.

Five years ago, Clayton Rorick loved me. Or so I thought. Turned out he only wanted to get his hands on my daddy’s company. Heartbroken, I ran away with nothing but the clothes on my back. Like a twisted Cinderella. When my father dies, leaving my sisters in a desperate situation, it’s up to me to help them.
I’ll have to beg the man who broke my heart to save us.

But Clayton hasn’t forgotten me and what he wants in exchange for his help is…my body, my heart and my soul.
Books by Author:

Molly O'Keefe Books


Prologue

VERONICA

No one had ever told me about orgasms.

Like, I had a sense, from movies or whatever. But no one ever gave me the complete picture. How they were tricky. How you had to be patient and vulnerable. Naked in a lot of ways—more than just, you know, actually naked. No one told me that they were a little frightening, that feeling of chugging up the incline of a roller coaster. Of something powerful and scary being just over the edge of a cliff.

Really, what no one told me was how freaking consuming they were.

After having some (eight, to be exact), it was literally all I could think about. Even in this stupid dress with the suffocating shapewear and the itchy netting. The boning in the bodice that dug into my armpits and didn’t let me breathe. The way my boobs—always a problem, except in the orgasm department—were squished and flattened.

All of this should be awful. But it wasn’t. Not really.

Because it was my engagement party.

And all I could think about was sex.

And Clayton.

“You didn’t lose the ten pounds you were supposed to, did you?” my stepmother, Jennifer, asked. She had her disapproving sniff going at full speed.

“Nope,” I answered.

“Veronica,” she said and then sighed, the most disappointed sigh. “You were going to try.”

“Was I?”

Clearly, while I’d been thinking about sex, my stepmother had been thinking about the ten pounds she wanted me to lose. The urge to tell her to just calm down, was hard to resist, but I managed -- because orgasms. I used to obsess over those ten pounds, too, and all it got me was another five.

But this was what she’d done to my half-sister, Sabrina. She’d tried to bully and shame her into a size zero. The woman just couldn’t stand to see a girl eat bread. Or be happy.

I would never understand how my father could go from my beautiful, loving mother to Jennifer. They were diametrically opposed.

“Tonight…” Jennifer said, straightening herself up so she looked like the stick that had been stuck up her ass. She wore a blue dress that hugged her body so closely I could practically see her hip bones through the material. “…is important.”

I was twenty-two, not twelve. And it was my freaking night and no one needed to tell me what was important. I turned to face her instead of dodging her gaze in the mirror and I looked right at her. Something I never would have had the courage to do before the last few weeks with Clayton.

But I’ve had eight mind-bending orgasms—and they’d brought me some kind of new confidence I’d never had before.

“Jennifer,” I said, right in her frowny face. “It’s my engagement. It’s my party. It’s my body. And none of it concerns you.”

Jennifer sniffed so hard she nearly turned herself inside out.

Behind me, Trudy swallowed a laugh. She’d been brought into the upstairs dressing room of The King’s Land Ranch to literally sew me into my dress—no zippers for the girl who didn’t lose the ten pounds.

“We’re nearly done,” Trudy said around the mouth full of pins between her lips. A few more tugs and twitches on my dress and she stood back and smiled at me. “Eres bonita.”

I believed my old friend when she said I was pretty, because for one of the few times in my life—I felt pretty. I felt it down in my bones. Tonight was going to be amazing.

“Gracias.”

Trudy helped me down from the dais where I’d been standing surrounded by mirrors. A thousand reflections of myself stared back at me. It wasn’t pleasant.

“Do you know where my sister is?”

“Where do you think your sister is?” Trudy asked with a laugh, sticking the pins she’d had in her mouth into the pincushion she wore on her wrist.

I sighed. The stables. Probably in her dress, too.

“What have I said about speaking in Spanish, Veronica?” Jennifer asked.

“More than half the people who live on this ranch speak Spanish,” I said, shaking out the skirt of my sparkly tea-length gown. “You could try learning it. But if you don’t want to hear it, you should move.”

Jennifer stepped up to me so fast she was like a snake coming out of the bushes. And her face…uh-oh…I’d pissed her off.

I tried not to smile.

“I have spent the last sixteen years thinking this day would never come. That you would never find a man to get you out of this house. But it’s here and I’m so glad you are leaving.” She spat her venom all over the place. And once upon a time her words would have hurt, more than hurt, maybe. But Clayton and the orgasms were like armor. “You and your alcoholic sister need to just get out of my house.”

“Bea’s not an alcoholic,” I said, but Jennifer was already leaving. “She’s just fun!” I shouted at her back.


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