Funny – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Funny – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Wed, 20 May 2026 17:50:07 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Funny – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 All’s Fair in Love and Pizza Read Online Lane Hayes http://www.books2020.com/alls-fair-in-love-and-pizza-read-online-lane-hayes Wed, 20 May 2026 17:50:07 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/alls-fair-in-love-and-pizza-read-online-lane-hayes Genre: Funny, M-M Romance, Novella Authors: Lane Hayes Advertisement

Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 49490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)

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A bake-off between enemies…what could go wrong?

Mateo

Can you believe this? Haverton’s football hero is opening a bagel shop next to my pizzeria and he’s selling—wait for it—pizza bagels. The nerve!

And this guy isn’t above using his fame to attract clients. It’s annoying and yes, I’m feeling a little crusty about the situation. My temper has gotten me into a few binds, but a pizza bagel war? This is a first.

I’m gonna crush him.

Rob

After years of playing in the pros, I’m beat. All I want is to open a bagel shop in the town that gave me a shot at the big time. I’d love some peace and quiet too, however, I won’t be getting that with Mateo Cavaretti next door.

Geez, I can’t believe I had a crush on that guy in college. Sure, he’s still incredibly good-looking, but he’s a grouch. And while I like my business partner’s idea to settle our dispute with a classic bake-off, Mateo and I can’t be in the same room without fireworks going off.

Okay, some of those fireworks are extra sexy and that might be a problem.

Or is all truly fair in love and pizza…and bagels?

All’s Fair in Love and Pizza is an MM grumpy/sunshine, small-town romance featuring former teammates, a culinary challenge, and a HEA worth fighting for.

*A portion of All's Fair in Love and Pizza was originally included in the Delicious Anthology. This new version has doubled in size to 40k words and a whole lot of bake-off shenanigans!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

MATEO

“The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.”— Sun Tzu, The Art of War

Boardwalk Pizza’s lunchtime rush was the usual medley of starry-eyed tourists, loyal locals, and a smattering of students and faculty from the nearby college. Like now.

A family of five sporting sweatshirts advertising the roller coaster at the pier studied the menu on the wall behind the register while an old man with a newspaper folded under his arm and an unlit pipe in hand chatted with the professor of humanities. A gaggle of female students huddled at the end of the line, gazes locked on their cellular devices.

The family was currently vacillating between the extra-large meat lover’s pizza and my cousin Sal’s special with double pepperoni. They couldn’t decide which sounded better, which meant they’d probably drag me into the decision-making process. I’d happily push the meat lover’s, but I was feeling a little stabby that I was running the register at all. I was supposed to be in the office, finalizing tomorrow’s grocery list. This was Giovanni’s job.

Where the hell was he?

“Everything just looks so good. What would you suggest?” the middle-aged mom asked, fluttering mega lashes at me.

See, I told you so.

“The meat lover’s. Hands down, my favorite.” I flashed a flirty smile, ignoring Mr. Smith’s eye roll. The old geezer got testy when forced to wait too long for his daily slice of ’za and a side salad…hold the onions.

“Sold!” the woman twittered. Thankfully she and the rest of her family knew what they wanted to drink.

I rang her card and slid a plastic marker across the battered wood counter. “Thank you. Here’s your number. Your pizza should be out in ten minutes or less.”

Mr. Smith toddled forward, his signature deadpan expression in place. He stuffed his newspaper into the front pocket of his tweed coat and tapped his pipe on his thumb. “I’ll have the usual.”

“You got it.” I narrowed my eyes mischievously. “You sure you don’t want to try Sal’s special?”

“The last time I tried Sal’s special, I had heartburn for three days. No, I’ll stick to the usual.” He pulled a ten-dollar bill from his pocket. “Keep the change.”

Our prices had gone up a couple of times since the older man had last bothered checking—however, no one corrected him. Mr. Smith had been a regular for forty-or-so years, which meant that other than on my days off and during my short stint after college playing pro football, I’d seen this man more often than I saw some family members. He was a bit of a curmudgeon, but he’d played poker with my grandpa and had coached Little League with my uncle once upon a time, so yeah…I wasn’t about to let him know he owed me an extra five bucks on the daily.

“Thanks, Mr. S.” I held my hand up for a fist bump, chuckling when he raised his brow and shuffled off.

The college girls were next. No problem. I locked and loaded my most charming smile just as Vanni rushed in, tying a marinara-stained apron around his slim waist.

“Sorry about that. I had some snoopin’ to do. You’re not gonna believe who’s moving in next door, Cuz.” Vanni bumped my elbow and grinned like a fool at the pretty girls waiting at the counter.

My cousin was a little scatterbrained. However, he was great with customers. I let him take over, hanging the new orders on the line for Sal and Jimmy in the kitchen. I should have ducked out and made a beeline for the office, but I poured drinks instead. Yeah, I was curious.

“Who?” I asked, arranging a tray of drinks.

Vanni closed the register, waiting for the counter area to clear before he replied, “A football buddy of yours.”

“Really? From Haverton?”

“Yeah, a big guy—a linebacker, I think. Rob something or other? He was standing outside with an inspector, talking about permits. I said hello, all friendly like. Introduced myself. He says, ‘Nice to meet ya. I’m opening a bagel shop.’ ”

“Rob? I don’t know who—oh, Rob Vilmer?”

Vanni snapped his fingers. “That’s the guy. Rob’s makin’ bagels. Not regular bagels, either. Savory ones. Whatever the fuck that means. Heya, Mrs. Sanders. What can we get started for you today?”

Rob Vilmer. Huh.

Talk about a blast from the past.

I delivered the drinks to table fourteen, pausing to inquire about their meals. How was the pepperoni today? Do you need any parmesan? That kind of thing. I made my rounds, strategically stopping near the entrance with the tray tucked under my arm to open the door for a group of students, then sneaked outside to peek at the flurry of action at the neighboring store.

The former owners had operated a candy emporium for decades. You know, the kind with big barrels of saltwater taffy and walls filled with classic treats—Pop Rocks, Abba-Zabas, and Sugar Babies. It had been a staple of my childhood, and my cousins and I had been sad to see it go.

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Advertisement Oops I’m Wanted Again – A Dark Prison Break Rom Com Read Online Sheridan Anne http://www.books2020.com/oops-im-wanted-again-a-dark-prison-break-rom-com-read-online-sheridan-anne Wed, 13 May 2026 18:54:35 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/oops-im-wanted-again-a-dark-prison-break-rom-com-read-online-sheridan-anne Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Funny Authors: Sheridan Anne Advertisement

Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)

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Okay, so I didn’t mean to break the guy out of prison and become his pretty little hostage. It just kinda happened. Can you blame me? Vicious murder tendencies aside, he’s one hell of a snack!

Stone Blackthorne. Even his name rubs me the right way.

Sure, he might be a convicted felon and be the most wanted man on Earth, but under all of those red flags, he’s probably a really nice guy. Just misunderstood.

Screw red. Stone’s flags are pitch black, but that’s the way I like it.

Want me to be your filthy little hostage? Okay. Just tell me how loud I should beg.

Need me to scream and make a break for it through the woods while you chase me, mask optional? You won’t see me complaining.

But want to put me at the top of your kill list for reasons completely beyond my control? Now that’s where I draw the line.

I know I’m a good girl at heart, but sometimes even the good girls need to be a little bad

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

ARIA

Holy mother of all things hot and juicy. There’s no way this is real.

I stare at my computer screen, my jaw hanging open as I scan the email confirmation for the biggest interview I’ve scored during the entire span of my short career.

Stone Blackthorne. The most notorious killer to walk the planet, currently serving four life sentences at Hartley Creek Maximum Security Penitentiary for Men, and a bona fide heartthrob.

His case has baffled me for years. I’ll never forget it.

During my recovery from the accident, his case appeared on the small TV in the corner of my stale hospital room. Its brutality made national headlines, and despite not knowing anyone involved, I found myself tuning in every day, invested in a way I had never been before. I needed to know every little detail. The hows, whats, and whys of everything that went down.

Stone was charged with the ruthless murder of six men in the span of three minutes, but what really got me was the way he didn’t even try to defend himself. He wasn’t fazed by anything that was going on around him. He looked as though he wanted the judge to hurry up and sentence him so he could be left the hell alone to put his feet up and chill in his new cell.

There were multiple holes in the stories woven by the victim’s representation, and if Stone’s lawyer had half a brain, he would have had every last charge against him dropped. Yet Stone just sat there, accepting his fate. It’s almost as though he wanted to be thrown behind bars.

Stone didn’t speak a single word throughout the whole case. I suppose he was invoking his right to remain silent. Actually, that’s not entirely true. He spoke just long enough to tell the judge and the court security to go fuck themselves, but apart from that? Nada. Not a single word.

When asked if he was guilty, he shrugged. When asked if he wanted to defend himself, he stared straight ahead. And when asked if he had anything to say for himself and the brutal murders he’d committed, he yawned. Yawned! The man yawned like the case was boring him.

There wasn’t a single attempt to save himself. Not a single scoff when they described the brutality of the vicious murders. Not a smirk. Not even a twitch of his lips. He was stone cold, and it was the most terrifying thing to watch. I can’t imagine how it would have felt sitting in that courthouse with him, feeling the wrath radiating out of him. Even his lawyer shrank beside him.

That’s what I’ve been spiraling over for seven long years. Even well after sentencing was complete, and his case had faded out of the headlines, it’s all that’s occupied my brain.

Stone Blackthorne. Occupation: Professional Moron.

I don’t get it. Why not attempt to defend himself, even if he was guilty? Which I’m sure he is. You can tell he’s bad news with one look. He’s the poster boy for Red Flags “R” Us. But why face four life sentences when he could have walked and been free to commit all the vicious murders his fucked-up black heart desired?

Like I said—professional moron. And I’m completely baffled by it.

But what baffles me the most is why now? And why me?

Stone has been behind bars for the better part of seven years, and for the past four of them, I have been so far up the ass of his lawyer begging for an interview that I could tell what he ate for breakfast. I’ve been blocked three times, but nothing is holding me back from this, and every curt blocking is met with a swift new email address, prepped and ready to continue hounding.

Every few months, I request an interview, determined to get to the bottom of this because I know, without a doubt, that Stone is hiding something. There’s his lawyer’s version of the story, the prosecution’s version, and then there’s the truth, which I believe is buried deep inside the mind of Stone Blackthorne. And for whatever reason I can’t seem to shake, I need it.

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Advertisement The Secret Baby Power Play (That Steamy Hockey Romance #4) Read Online Lili Valente http://www.books2020.com/the-secret-baread-online-power-play-that-steamy-hockey-romance-4-read-online-lili-valente Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:00:48 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/the-secret-baread-online-power-play-that-steamy-hockey-romance-4-read-online-lili-valente Genre: Alpha Male, Funny, Sports Authors: Lili Valente Series: That Steamy Hockey Romance Series by Lili Valente
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >95

Sleeping with my teammate's sister? Rookie mistake.
Getting her pregnant? Career-ending penalty.

They call me the Guru—the guy who never loses his cool, never breaks the code, and definitely doesn't knock up his best friend's little sister after one perfect, reckless night.

But judging by Beatrice's new baby bump, six months ago, I did just that.

Now she's back in New Orleans, gorgeous, glowing, and determined to do this solo. She doesn't need my money, my help, or my suddenly inconvenient feelings.

Too bad. Because I'm not the kind of man who skates away from the woman I haven't been able to stop thinking about since the moment she left.

So I show up. I prove I'm not just the guy who got her pregnant, but the friend who listens, the partner who's got her back, and the lover who knows exactly how to make her forget why she ever thought romance might be dead.

And if keeping us a secret protects her peace? Fine. I'll play along.

But secrets have a way of hitting the ice when you least expect it. And when ours does, I'll have to prove to her brother, my team, and the woman I'm falling for that I'm not just chasing a win.

I'm playing for forever

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

BEATRICE NIX

Six months ago…

My big brother’s getting married.

My wild, party-loving, only-dates-cougars-on-the-rebound-due-to-suspected-commitment-issues brother is going to marry an amazing woman and live happily ever after.

I’m so happy for him.

So, so happy!

So happy that I haven’t stopped crying since he called me to tell me that Charlotte said yes…

What’s wrong with me?

I sniff, speeding my steps down a quieter street in the French Quarter, grateful for the spring breeze on my face. I have no idea where I’m going. I just had to get away from the noise, the people. Away from all the shiny surfaces outside the bar, reflecting what a mess I am.

I love Charlotte. Seriously love her. If someone told me I had to choose between Baylor, the brother who’s had my back my since the day I was born, and this woman, who came into my life just a few months ago, I would struggle to decide where my loyalty should lie. She’s been ten toes down for me from day one, even when things with my ex got seriously ugly. She never wavered or made me feel like a burden. She simply opened her heart and her home and took me in.

Charlotte is an incredible human being who loves my brother with every bit of her big, beautiful soul, and he feels the same way. Thanks to the love they’ve found, Baylor is an even better man than he was before. There’s no doubt in my mind that their marriage will be one for the ages.

So why is there a boulder in my throat?

Am I jealous? Is that it? Deep down, am I that petty?

“If so, then you’re a horrible person,” I mutter, words slurring as I swipe at the tears still leaking from my eyes. I’m tipsier than I almost ever get, but a hurricane on an empty stomach will do that to a girl. Food was on the way to the table, but I left before I could take a single bite of my fish tacos.

Thank God.

Thank God, I stepped outside the bar to take that call. Thank God, I texted my friends an apology for bailing early when the sniffling began, and started walking. If anyone else had seen me like this, I would be even more ashamed of myself.

Seriously, what is wrong here?!

Baylor and Charlotte basically saved my life. Not only did they help me escape Kai with minimal fallout, but they also provided shelter, support, and connections to the New Orleans music community. Hell, Charlotte even sang backup on the first solo release of my career.

They did everything in their power to smooth my transition from dysfunctional coupledom to peaceful single lady life. From a member of a mid-list band to a potentially mainstream solo artist. My first single, The Labor of Leaving, is still charting months after its release, and my forthcoming solo album has been named one of the year’s most anticipated releases by several well-respected industry publications. If I don’t seriously fuck something up, I’m on the verge of being famous.

Only I never wanted to be famous.

I wanted to make amazing music, live a happy life, and find someone incredible to share it with.

And so far?

Well, so far, aside from the new album, I’ve made formulaic music, lived under the thumb of a controlling asshole, and what I know about “true love” could fit inside a thimble.

I know it’s precious.

I know it’s rare.

And I know I might never find it.

Since the split with Kai, I haven’t been able to get laid, let alone anything more. I only started dipping my toe into the dating pool a little while ago, and meeting people is next to impossible when you spend most of your time in a recording studio, but still…

I’ve been on enough dates to know that men feel as foreign to me as the opposite sex did when I was a teenager. That’s how I ended up with Kai in the first place. He was problematic, yes, even back then. But he was also the first boy who seemed to “get” what it was like to be a woman, to see me as a main character, too, not a sidekick in his dude-centered adventure. I thought maybe that was because he was older than the other boys I’d dated—twenty-one to my seventeen.

Over a decade later, the hypothesis gave me comfort on my way out the door. Maybe finding connection would be easier the second time around, now that my dating pool was full of proper adults.

But after six months of disastrous first dates, I now suspect most men are simply dumb.

No, not dumb. That isn’t quite right.

They’re not dumb, they’re…willfully ignorant. Most haven’t bothered to educate themselves on what it’s like to navigate the world as a woman because they don’t have to.

They don’t have to be afraid of walking outside at night, or losing control of their reproductive systems, or being told they’re inherently inferior because they were born with girl parts. So, they don’t care.

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Advertisement It Seemed Like a Good Idea (Darling Springs #1) Read Online Lauren Blakely http://www.books2020.com/it-seemed-like-a-good-idea-darling-springs-1-read-online-lauren-blakely Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:14:52 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/it-seemed-like-a-good-idea-darling-springs-1-read-online-lauren-blakely Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny Authors: Lauren Blakely Series: Darling Springs Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)

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Grumpy meets sunshine in this charming and hilarious forbidden small town romance from #1 New York Times bestselling author Lauren Blakely!

I really don't need a bodyguard―I run a small-town lavender farm, for bee's sake! But I'm getting one anyway since my identical twin sister just booked the movie role of a lifetime and it's being shot in my hometown. And guess who my new broody, tattooed protector is? None other than the guy I had a one-night stand with last month.

he's the guy with the wicked mouth and heated eyes who ran out on me before the bang without so much as goodbye. And of course he arrives in my tiny hometown where the film is shooting right in the nick of time to save me from the paparazzi at the market. The coffee shop. The dress shop too. I'm trying hard to stay mad after the third time the sexy jerk rescues me.

To top it all off, he's staying in the cottage at my farm. With me. And there's only one bed.
Maybe just one night would relieve all this tension? But one night turns into another, and then into sharing hearts and secrets that are best locked up. Especially since he's leaving and I'm staying, and there's no way we can be more than a summer romance that ends far too soon.

Small town, rom com, grumpy/sunshine, bodyguard, mistaken identity, forbidden romance, only one bed

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

ORIGAMI MAN

RIPLEY

“You can’t just leave after dropping news like that on me.”

Seriously. My sister can’t take off yet. Not when I need to make the list of all lists. Hands parked on hips, I stare, slack-jawed, as she zips up her peach suitcase, the color matching her personality.

“You’ve got this, Ripley,” she says breezily as she springs up from the plush carpet, pops the handle of the suitcase some luggage company gave her, and nods to the door, a sign she’s heading off to catch her flight.

I briefly consider flinging myself against the hotel room door and forcing her to stay in this suite till we’ve covered every single detail of the things I’ll have to do in less than thirty days, but when my sister wants something, not even a human shield can stop her.

“But there’s not enough time. Can’t we have more time?” I ask since I’m still flabbergasted at the impossible assignment she wants me to make possible, and I need to process my flabbergast with her.

“Who else but you can take care of things this quickly?” Haven says.

“Quickly?” I know time isn’t Haven’s favorite thing, but quickly is the mother of all euphemisms. She’s asking me to hustle at the speed of a time-lapse video. “I have to get our farm ready to host a film crew in one month? I’m good at doing all the things. Very good, mind you. But I am not that good.”

She stops on the way to the door of the suite she’d booked for this sisters’ getaway weekend and gives me a don’t be ridiculous look. “Yes, you are. This is what you do. All this”—she waves a hand—“kind of stuff.”

“This kind of stuff?” I flick through the memories of, oh, say, my entire life, but nope, not once did I fix up our small-town lavender farm in twenty-eight days for the benefit of a Hollywood film company.

Haven gives me one of those magic smiles that’s impossible to look away from. A smile I can’t even try to mimic when she begs me at get-togethers to do my impression of her—the sweet sister. “You know what I mean,” she says. “Like how you drove me to the audition for that perfume commercial when my car broke down.”

“I didn’t fix your car,” I grumble, remembering that wild day when she said she was so stressed about being late that she was going to pee her pants but at the same time was so excited that she was also going to pee her pants.

Spoiler alert: she did not pee her pants.

But she did get the gig.

She drops her suitcase handle and reaches for my hands. “You fixed me. I wouldn’t be here without you.” She holds my gaze for a weighty beat, and we’re not talking about the car anymore.

Darker memories flash in my mind, and I blink them back. There’s no time for those today—not when I have a farm to whip into shape. The film financing for Someone Else’s Ring—a project she’d been waiting to get the green light on—has officially been finalized. Seems our little farm, more than an hour from the big city, is going to be her co-star, so to speak, as long as I can get her into shape.

“You’re leaving me when I need to figure out this whole thing.”

She squeezes me harder. “You’ll make money on this whole thing, I’m sure. It’ll be exactly what Lavender Bliss Farms needs to show off its rustic charm,” she says, grabbing the handle of her suitcase with a certain finality.

“Oh. It’s definitely rustic. So rustic that I’ll get sued for everything I’m worth if a cameraman’s foot goes through a rotten board.”

“They have, you know, insurance and stuff.”

“Insurance doesn’t prevent you from getting sued. It pays for—” There’s no point in explaining damages. Haven doesn’t need to worry about behind-the-scenes details of running a family flower farm that needs a fork-ton of work.

“It pays for dreams,” Haven says, eyes wide and imploring. “And you know this is a dream come true.”

My hardened heart softens, like it always does for her. “I know. And of course I’ll do it.” We both know I was always going to say yes the second the financing came through. In this case, about, you know, ten minutes ago.

Haven had been biting her nails for weeks, waiting for word on this film, her first big starring role. Someone Else’s Ring, based on the runaway bestseller of the same name, just so happens to be set in a small town, so her agent had pitched the producers on shooting some key scenes on my lavender farm. My little, desperately-in-need-of-a-new-coat-of-paint lavender farm.

But I’ll make it happen. That’s what I do. “Like I can turn you down.”

“Yay! I told my agent a few minutes ago not to worry since you’re the best older sister in the world.”

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Advertisement Petty in Pink Read Online L.J. Shen http://www.books2020.com/petty-in-pink-read-online-l-j-shen Thu, 26 Feb 2026 08:21:09 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/petty-in-pink-read-online-l-j-shen Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Funny, Novella Authors: L.J. Shen Advertisement

Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >43

Return to the bestselling world of The Devil Wears Black in this Valentine’s Day spin-off where longtime friends with benefits unwittingly find themselves in a serious predicament.

In New York Times bestselling author L.J. Shen’s valentine-themed novella, a surprise pregnancy shakes up expectations between a romance-phobe and her longtime hookup who’s always wanted more.

Layla Schmidt has artfully dodged Cupid’s arrows for six years now, keeping things casual with her standing booty call—no romance, no strings.

As far as Layla’s concerned, it’s the perfect setup. For both of them. With her painful track record, the lively teacher wants nothing to do with commitment, and Grant Gerwig, dedicated oncologist, is too busy for it. Truthfully, Grant wants to make the time, but he knows better than to push where Layla won’t budge.

Their emotional standstill can’t last forever, though.

When a coworker’s wedding brings a blast from Layla’s past, it blows a hole through her future too. Swirling emotions lead to impulsive decisions, and after an adrenaline-fueled night, she finds herself pregnant.

Layla and Grant have a lot to talk about…and a lot to prepare for. Falling in love was never supposed to be part of their equation, but even the best-laid plans unfold with some surprises along the way

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Layla

Valentine’s Day, 2023

“This is giving strong undecided vibes,” I told Maddie on the phone, squinting at an appetizer that peered back at me.

“Layla, you’re at their wedding,” my best friend said, snorting. “I’m pretty sure they’re serious about each other.”

“Don’t be. Choosing Valentine’s Day as your wedding date, thereby ruining everyone else’s plans?” I scoffed as I put down the weird shrimp appetizer with the buggy eyes. “And making all the guests wear pink? Regardless of splotchy skin tone? They’re trying to compensate for something. I better investigate.”

I moved down the mile-long table of appetizers. The tablecloths were red, and black-and-white heart-shaped confetti covered every surface of the floor. I was a big fan of the show, don’t tell rule. Not only when it came to the books I consumed, but also to the people I spent my time with. And this was screaming telling. What did they have to prove?

Usually, the cocktail hour was my favorite part of the wedding—the only tolerable part, actually—but this time the food selection was too fancy. A mix of caviar, seafood, and soup shooters in tiny pink glasses. It felt like I was in some kind of extravagant detox rehab, minus the celebrities and comfy yoga pants.

Maddie snickered. “How’d you get roped into attending some strangers’ wedding, anyway?”

“Hey, she is not a stranger. She’s honestly the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister.”

“Wow. Fighting words right there. Thanks a bunch, L.”

I’d only known the bride, Kellianne, for two months. She was my new teacher’s assistant at Bright Horizons Academy. But she was sweet and motivated, and she didn’t run away screaming when we got the Twos class, notoriously the most difficult age group. I showed her the ropes and invited her to our weekly drinks and monthly spicy book club meetups. She was a recent arrival to the city, and I’d learned she was trying to build new friendships. So when she asked if I could come, mentioning that only her close family was able to afford coming and that the groom had over three hundred guests, I caved.

“Listen, I usually go through three teaching assistants a year whenever I get the Twos class. One time a PTO mom had to step in for a full semester before we found someone to brave those little angels.” I plucked a champagne glass from the long table, then took a sip. “Kellianne stuck around. We are sisters-in-arms. I’d give her an internal organ if she ever needs one.” I smoothed down my pink satin dress with my free hand, peering around the grand marble lobby of the Central Park hotel where the wedding was taking place.

The couple might not be in love, but one of them was definitely rich. I’m talking golden-toilets-and-Dolce-&-Gabbana-toasters rich. A Danish prince had gotten married here two weeks ago.

“Is the food decent, at least?” Maddie sighed.

“I just had a stare-off with a shrimp. I hope that answers your question.”

“It does. But now I have to vomit again.”

“Sorry. Why is it that the more bougie the event is, the less edible the food is?”

“That question is way above my pay grade.” I heard Maddie cracking open a can of what I assumed was her seventh ginger ale today. “Isn’t it in that new hotel? Are there any dashing eligible bachelors to speak of?”

I scanned the room again. Everyone was paired off or huddled together into groups. I guessed the groom was in investment, or something equally soulless. The tall-white-men-with-Ivy-League-haircut percentage was out of control.

Virtually every person in the room had their back to me. Not that I could blame them. I stuck out like a brain cell in a flat-earther convention, with my electric green hair and red-hot lipstick.

There were a few fine-looking men, but I would bet my left boob that all of them wouldn’t have swiped right for me on an app, or vice versa. It was an energy thing. Theirs was will-not-be-seen-alive-in-anything-cheaper-than-Prada, and my energy gave off will-drink-water-from-the-pickle-jar-for-twenty-bucks vibes.

“No one that passes the vibe check,” I drawled to the phone, taking another sip of my bubbly drink. “I’ll just show my face, say my congratulations, and move along with my life.”

Said life currently included watching the last season of The Great British Bake Off and ordering pad Thai while wearing compression socks, but whatever. I wasn’t hurting anybody.

“Hey, am I hearing Ms. Rachel in the background?” I tapered my eyes.

“The answer depends on whether you’re going to chide me for giving my child screen time or not.”

“Not.”

“Then yes, Caitie’s Classroom is on.”

“What’s my godson still doing up?” I pulled the phone away from my ear to check the time. It was nine. Who the hell gets married at nine?

“I put him to bed an hour ago. I’m just too lazy to stand up and grab the remote. This pregnancy is killing me.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >43

Advertisement The Fifteen-Minute Rule (Dickson University #3) Read Online Max Monroe http://www.books2020.com/the-fifteen-minute-rule-dickson-university-3-read-online-max-monroe Thu, 26 Feb 2026 08:20:50 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/the-fifteen-minute-rule-dickson-university-3-read-online-max-monroe Genre: Alpha Male, College, Contemporary, Funny, New Adult Authors: Max Monroe Series: Dickson University Series by Max Monroe
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >139

Dickson University’s reigning social king can get any girl on campus to fall for him…except the one he’s been silently falling for his whole life.

Campus legend. Life of the party. The guy everyone wants to know.
That’s me—Ace Kelly.

But the one person who truly knows me? Julia Brooks.
My best friend since we were kids.
Julia’s the kind of girl everyone loves. Sweet, painfully beautiful, and steady, she’s always been my constant.

Somewhere between childhood and college at Dickson University, I fell for her. Hard. And I’ve been running an incognito mission ever since.

Operation: Make Julia fall in love with me...without ruining the friendship.

Flawless plan, right? Wrong.
One catastrophically stupid moment—fine, several—might’ve blown everything apart.

We’ve always had our fifteen-minute rule: get mad, shout, hate each other all we want, but when the time is up, we're back to best buddies.

But this time, fifteen minutes might not be enough.

Not when Julia’s trust and our entire lifetime of “us” is suddenly on the line.

I’m in love with my best friend.
And come hell or high water, I’m not giving up my girl without a fight

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Julia

Sometimes, Ace Kelly is the most annoying best friend in the whole wide world.

I don’t care if he gave me the last purple popsicle yesterday or told everyone at school that I’m the bravest girl in the second grade because I touched a worm on the playground. None of that matters right now because I am so mad at him. He just made his stupid Hulk action figure rip the hair out of my favorite Barbie’s head.

“She didn’t even do anything!” I yell, holding my partially hairless Barbie up in the air. “She was trying to do some yoga, Ace!”

“I’m sorry, Lia!” Ace exclaims. “But the Hulk gets mad sometimes! He can’t help it!”

“Well, the Hulk has anger issues,” I snap, scooting to the edge of the rug in his bedroom and turning my back to him. “And so do you. I’m mad at you, Ace Kelly. Really, really mad.”

Instantly, he goes quiet because he knows the only thing he can do when I’m upset with him is to wait it out.

We have a rule called the fifteen-minute rule. It’s not, like, a law or anything. We made it up. But between us, it’s nonnegotiable.

Ace wanted to choose sixty-nine minutes because he says his dad tells his mom he likes that number all the time, but I told Ace that sixty-nine minutes is a really long time. Like, I’m pretty sure that’s more than a whole hour, which is, like, forever long.

I guess we could’ve chosen the five-minute rule or ten-minute rule, but we both think fifteen is a cool number, so it won two to nothing when we took a vote. Now, we’re not allowed to stay mad at each other for longer than fifteen minutes, and it all started over my sidewalk chalk drawing last summer.

Ace added a gross stream of boogers and snot to the pretty girl I drew on my parents’ driveway, ruining all my hard work. One minute, she had beautiful long purple hair and big pink eyes and a yellow dress, and the next, she had a face covered in green slime because boys are gross.

The only problem with our rule is that Ace isn’t very good at telling time yet, so I’m the one who always has to say when the fifteen minutes are up.

“Is it time yet?” Ace asks, scooting a little closer to me.

See?

I huff out a breath, but I don’t answer him, concentrating on brushing my Barbie’s blond hair in a way that will hide her new bald spot instead.

“Lia?” he tries again, quieter this time. “Has it been fifteen minutes?”

I sigh and glance down at my pink Hello Kitty watch. Only three minutes have passed, but when I look up, Ace is sitting there with big brown sorry eyes. He’s not even playing with his action figures anymore, and his resemblance to Puss in Boots is growing by the second.

I cross my arms tighter and look away, determined to hold out until the time runs out or my Barbie grows her hair back—whichever is shorter—but when I glance back at Ace again, he looks even more pitiful. I crumble.

“Yeah,” I lie. “It’s been fifteen minutes.”

“Really?” he perks up.

I nod. “I forgive you.”

“Thank goodness, Lia. Fifteen minutes is so freaking long.” His face breaks into a giant smile as he scoots right next to me again. “Wanna play action figures?”

“No,” I say and quickly move my Barbie away from his angry Hulk and rise to my feet. “Thanks. You can play action figures. I’m going to play dress-up.”

“You can borrow my Batman costume,” he offers. “It’s in my closet.”

That might not seem like a big deal, but that Batman costume is Ace’s favorite. He never lets his little brother Gunnar wear it. And one time, Ace had Kyle Collins over at his house to play with us and Kyle wanted to wear his Batman costume so bad, but Ace said no.

It’s basically an honor. It’s also one of the reasons why Ace Kelly is my best friend. He’s always doing nice things for me that he would never do for anyone else.

I rummage through his closet, but instead of a superhero costume, I snag one of Ace’s favorite T-shirts.

With the white fabric draped over the back of my head, I swing side to side in front of the mirror on his door and imagine myself in a big, fancy church with a handsome groom standing across from me. I’m more grown, of course, like a full-fledged woman with boobs like my mom’s and lipstick and eye shadow and all the makeup my dad tells me I’m not allowed to wear.

I also have a big smile on my face because it’s the happiest day of my life.

I don’t know why wedding days are so happy for girls, but I’ve seen enough movies to know it’s supposed to be the happiest.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >139

Advertisement Try Me Read Online Adriana Locke http://www.books2020.com/try-me-read-online-adriana-locke Wed, 07 Jan 2026 10:40:53 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/try-me-read-online-adriana-locke Genre: Alpha Male, Funny, Sports Authors: Adriana Locke Advertisement

Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >97

“Try me.”

That’s what Drake Bennett said when I declared on my live podcast that no man could make me fall in love. The former pro football star turned sportscaster didn’t just laugh—he challenged my entire brand.

Gianna Knows Best is built on the idea that love is a choice. Drake says it’s a feeling—a magical, uncontrollable, world-shifting experience.

I call BS. He says I’m scared.

The audacity.

So, we make a bet. Six weeks of dating … in front of millions of listeners. If I don’t fall for him, I win. If I do … don’t worry. Not going to happen.

I expected spicy nights and viral ratings. What I didn’t expect was thoughtful surprises, spontaneous affection, and moments that make my heart do strange things.

Drake isn’t who I thought he was, and I can’t tell what scares me that he’s been playing me all along or that I’m wrong about love. Either way, someone’s about to get hurt—and I bet it’ll be me

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PLAYLIST

Playlist

“Touch Me Like a Gangster” by Jessie Murph

“Actually Romantic” by Taylor Swift

“Worst Way” by Riley Green

“Hard” by Hayley Williams

“I Think I’m In Love” by Kat Dahlia

For full playlist, go here.

SYNOPSIS

“Try me.”

That’s what Drake Bennett said when I declared on my live podcast that no man could make me fall in love. The former pro football star turned sportscaster didn’t just laugh—he challenged my entire brand.

Gianna Knows Things is built on the idea that love is a choice. Drake says it’s a feeling—a magical, uncontrollable, world-shifting experience.

I call BS. He says I’m scared.

The audacity.

So we make a bet. Six weeks of dating … in front of millions of listeners. If I don’t fall for him, I win. If I do … don’t worry. Not going to happen.

I expected spicy nights and viral ratings. What I didn’t expect was thoughtful surprises, spontaneous affection, and moments that make my heart do strange things.

Drake isn’t who I thought he was, and I can’t tell what scares me more: that he’s been playing me all along or that I’m wrong about love. Either way, someone’s about to get hurt—and I hope it’s not me.

CHAPTER

ONE

Gianna

“My sweet friend Audrey likes to say that revenge isn’t necessary,” I say, adjusting my headphones. “Whoever hurt you has to live with their rotten self, and that’s punishment enough.”

Roxie, a name I’m positive she chose just before calling into my live-streamed podcast, sighs in abject disappointment.

I smirk. “I wholeheartedly disagree with Audrey.”

“You do?”

“Of course, I do.” I lean toward my bright pink microphone, wondering if Roxie has ever listened to my advice before today. “Sometimes revenge is necessary. Imagine if you take the option of revenge off the table. What happens then? What discourages assholes from being assholes? It’s not like they’re going to suddenly turn empathetic.”

“This is what I’ve been telling my friends, but they keep telling me that I have to move on. To let it go—to forget what my ex did to me.”

“Well, that probably is the healthier option. But if you aren’t there emotionally and need to check this chump, and the only way for you to take your power back is to toss those cheese slices wrapped in thin plastic on his windshield on a particularly hot day, then do it.” I bite my bottom lip, grinning. “Or, depending on your definition of revenge, you could find out if his dad is hot and then do with that information what you will.”

Roxie’s laughter is quick, singing through the recording studio in satisfied, if not amused, notes.

I’m always curious about how seriously my callers take my opinions. I’m even more interested in whether any of them follow through with my controversial suggestions, as the head of Canoodle Media calls them. But, as my producer, Francine, always reminds me, I’m probably better off not knowing if they do or don’t—plausible deniability and all.

Francine holds up a finger and twirls it from the sound booth, indicating one more caller, and then we’ll wrap up the episode.

“Now is a good time to remind everyone that the opinions expressed on Gianna Knows Things are my own and not necessarily shared by Canoodle Media or its sponsors,” I say, reading the script off the screen in front of me. “The information shared on this podcast is for entertainment purposes only and should, in no way, be considered professional advice. We recommend consulting a professional regarding your specific situation. Now that’s out of the way, we have time for one more caller.” I scan the screen and find their name. “Hi, Hannah. What do you need to know?”

“I’d love to know why I apparently hate myself,” Hannah says with a tight laugh. “Can you answer that?”

We gotta find a way to put notes next to the caller’s name so I know what I’m getting into. “No, but I can refer you to a great therapist.”

“I’m just kidding. Thanks for taking my call, Gianna. I’m a huge fan.”

Francine rolls her eyes, making me laugh.

“Here’s what I really need to know,” Hannah says. “How do I know if the guy I’ve been seeing is serious or if I’m just a friend giving him benefits that he doesn’t deserve?”

Here we go …

I managed to answer nine questions—seven call-ins and two online submissions—in this episode without coming across one like this. These are my least favorite situations for a litany of reasons. These inquiries seem crystal clear to me, but my answers always seem to portray me as the bad guy. One thing I’ve learned in this role is that not everyone who asks a question wants the truth. Or my version of it, anyway.

“Before I answer, I want you to be sure you really want the answer,” I say.

“Yeah, of course, I do.”

“Okay,” I say, gritting my teeth. Something in her voice—the hope in her tone—kills me. I’m about to break this poor girl’s heart. Hell, maybe I am the bad guy, after all. “Hannah, I’m sorry to have to tell you this. He’s not serious about you.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >97

Advertisement The Necromancer’s Christmas Tree of Terror Read Online Jocelynn Drake http://www.books2020.com/the-necromancers-christmas-tree-of-terror-read-online-jocelynn-drake Thu, 25 Dec 2025 22:07:51 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/the-necromancers-christmas-tree-of-terror-read-online-jocelynn-drake Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Funny, M-M Romance, Novella, Paranormal Authors: Jocelynn Drake Advertisement

Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >27

The tree knocked on the front door, begging to be let in…

It was Sky and Nolan’s first Christmas together.

Nolan was hoping to make lots of cozy memories with his new family.

But nothing goes quite how you might expect when you date a necromancer.

A “Christmas” tree shows up on their doorstep—a gift from the king of the underworld—and it turns their holidays upside down.

Can Nolan and Sky make it through the holiday season with their unexpected guest?

Fall in love with sunshine-y necromancer Sky and his grumpy boyfriend Nolan as they tackle the holidays with a sprinkle of magic and lots of chaos.

The Necromancer's Christmas Tree of Terror is a Princes of Mayhem holiday novella

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

December 1

An icy wind howled through the streets, rattling limbs and tearing the last of the autumn leaves from the trees. Darkness blanketed the city, and thick clouds rolled across the night sky, blocking out the stars and the thin, delicate curve of the moon. Fall was withering away, and winter was slipping its claws deep into the world. The residents of this sleepy street remained huddled safely in their homes, protected from the cold and the scary things creeping in the shadows.

In fact, necromancer and general cinnamon roll Skylar had a different kind of creeping in mind as his hand slipped under the hem of his boyfriend’s sweat shirt. The BL romantic comedy they were watching was good, but he’d watched it a million times before and at that moment, he was more interested in exploring the contents of Nolan’s sweat pants.

“You realize that we’ve tried three times to watch this episode, and we never get past this part because someone has Wandering Hands Syndrome,” Nolan said suddenly, his eyes not moving from the TV.

“I know. I know,” Sky mumbled. His hand stopped inching forward and rested on Nolan’s flat stomach. Sky placed his head on Nolan’s shoulder and jutted out his bottom lip.

“I thought you said you liked this show.”

“I do. It’s just that this one also has the evil, manipulative sister trope, and that one gets old, fast. Why can’t they have more of the supportive, helpful fujoshi sister who tries to get the two main characters together? There’s never enough of that in BL shows.” As he complained, Sky’s fingers began moving of their own accord again, plucking at the waistband of Nolan’s pants.

Nolan reached over and picked up the remote resting on the cushion opposite Sky. “I can find something else to watch. Viki just started posting episodes of a new Chinese costume drama that’s gotten excellent reviews.”

“Or…” Sky drawled while tipping his face up to kiss along the underside of Nolan’s jaw, working his way to his earlobe—Nolan’s greatest weakness. His wicked fingers finally dipped below the waistband of Nolan’s sweats, continuing their wicked trek toward his boyfriend’s cock.

A sharp, brisk knock on the front door caused them to flinch. Sky whined at the sudden intrusion into their happy cocoon as Nolan tossed aside the blanket they’d been cuddled under and walked to the foyer.

“If it’s Red or Mad, tell them to go away. I’m about to get laid!” Sky called.

“You sure about that?” Nolan teased.

Sky snorted. “Yeah, like I can’t see the tent forming in those sweat pants.”

He wasn’t wrong. Nolan jerked on his baggy sweat shirt, trying to get it to stretch down to cover the front of his pants.

Sky heard Nolan open the door, scream, and slam it shut again. That was not normal!

“What happened?” Sky shouted as he raced from the couch to where Nolan had his back pressed to the wood, his face pale and lined with fear. “What’s out there?”

“A tree!”

Sky blinked slowly at him and repeated, “A tree?”

“Yes!”

“Let me see,” Sky said, motioning for his boyfriend to move aside. Humans did tend to overreact.

“No! It’s trying to come in.”

“How?”

“It has legs,” Nolan hissed. “Like…like crab legs. And it made noises.”

“Oh. Like my roses?”

“Your roses don’t scuttle around. They stay in their bed!”

Okay, Nolan had a point.

Sky walked slowly up to Nolan and laid a hand on his cheek. “Baby, it’ll be okay. Let me check. I’m sure it won’t be hard to send it away.”

He nodded and moved from the door on shaky legs. Sky grinned at Nolan, happy to wait until he was a comfortable distance away before slowly opening the door.

The “tree” was more of a teardrop-shaped shrub, standing about three feet tall on a set of curled roots that did resemble twisted crab legs. The creature chittered at him and took a step forward as if it were an overgrown cat trying to dart inside where it was warm.

“Huh. Wow. That’s nice,” Sky murmured to himself.

“What? What’s nice? What is it?” Nolan demanded from deeper in the foyer.

“It’s a witch’s Yule tree. No one has ever sent me one,” Sky replied.

“A what?”

“A witch’s Yule tree. Earth witches will sometimes bespell a tree, giving it some small level of sentience so that it can walk into a house on its own. They’re used to celebrate Yule and the winter solstice. I think they’re supposed to have about the same intelligence as a golden retriever.” He glanced over his shoulder at Nolan and flashed him an encouraging smile. “They’re seen as protectors of the hearth and home. It’s not going to hurt you.”

“Uh-huh,” Nolan said in a disbelieving tone as he inched a little higher up the nearby staircase. “And can we talk about how it makes noises? It’s a tree, Sky.”

Sky resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Poor human. Sometimes, his boyfriend was too adorable for words. “Magic. Obviously.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >27

Advertisement Call Me Anytime (The Protectors #1) Read Online Max Monroe http://www.books2020.com/call-me-anytime-the-protectors-1-read-online-max-monroe Sun, 07 Dec 2025 21:07:14 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/call-me-anytime-the-protectors-1-read-online-max-monroe Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny, Suspense, Virgin Authors: Max Monroe Series: The Protectors Series by Max Monroe
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >109

A virgin phone sex operator. A detective. And a murder. Love shows up at the oddest times in this funny, emotional, and suspenseful romantic comedy by New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe.

Down and almost out in Nashville, Hannah May takes a job at what she thinks is a telemarketing company. To her shock, it’s a phone sex hotline. Unfortunately, the only role-playing Hannah can do with conviction is as a cash-strapped twenty-five-year-old virgin caring for a mother with Alzheimer’s. If only her callers were into that fantasy. Instead, one of them is looking for a killer.

Detective Dominic Dunn is investigating the murder of another hotline operator when Hannah’s endearing awkwardness, quirky charm, and fierce devotion to her mother crack his professional facade. Despite the circumstances, their connection is instant and electric. For the first time in years, Hannah finds herself living instead of just surviving—even if that means playing amateur sleuth between awkward attempts at phone seduction.

But as their relationship deepens and the investigation intensifies, Dominic’s protective instincts go into overdrive. With every call Hannah takes, she gets closer to both love and danger.

Because somewhere in Nashville, on the other end of her line, a killer is waiting

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

Hannah

Monday, May 6

10:00 a.m.

When I was a little girl, I used to dream of the future a lot. Of fancy houses and a handsome husband and jet-setting trips to the south of France. I pictured perfectly manicured nails and lawns, and I imagined big diamond necklaces resting heavily around my clavicle.

Instead, at twenty-five, I sit inside a warehouse on the outskirts of downtown Nashville, Tennessee, in a dingy office on the second floor, wafting cigarette smoke away from my face as discreetly as I possibly can while the woman interviewing me for a telemarketing job blows a continuous stream in my direction.

This, friends, is not what dreams are made of.

“I see it says on your résumé that you just left a job at Alliance?” Margo, my interviewer, asks.

“Yes. That’s correct.” I wiggle in my seat to sit a little taller, desperate to make the best of this situation. After fifteen interviews and no job offers in the last month, I don’t have much choice.

Margo Mavis’s makeup is thick—blue eye shadow, pink lips, pink blush—and her jet-black hair is almost as big as her currently pushed-up breasts, which I can only assume are fake. They, like NASA, defy gravity. Everything else about her is aged—like she’s a character straight out of ’80s TV—and, since her office is windowless and there isn’t a fan or air purifier in sight, her views on the risks of indoor smoking seem just as old fashioned.

“And what’s Alliance, hon? A club?” She drops my single sheet of job history to the desk in front of her and takes another drag from her Virginia Slim.

“A club?” My eyebrows draw together. “No. It’s a medical-based technology company. I was doing data entry, but they’re relocating to Atlanta and aren’t offering any remote positions.”

Margo takes another drag, and a few ashes fall onto the neckline of her red sweater, which covers little more than her nipples—and comes nowhere near her neck. She brushes them off with a nonchalant hand, but not before they burn a tiny hole in the fabric. For continuity within the look she’s going for, the heavily coated foundation around her eyes cracks to reveal a few crow’s-feet as she squints down at my résumé for another quick read. “You have any experience on calls?”

“Um . . . I did some cold-calling with Alliance, but I’ve never been in direct sales before,” I admit, fudging the truth a little in the hopes that it makes me sound less like a fish out of water. Nadine, my old boss at Alliance, did attempt to put me on the sales team at one point, but after a week of calls and no actual sales, back to data entry I had gone. Being pushy with strangers isn’t one of my fortes.

Still, I’m desperate for a job, any job, and if that means doing a crash course on slick tricks via YouTube tutorial, then so be it. I wouldn’t be sitting here, secondhand smoking my way to bronchogenic carcinoma, if I weren’t willing to do anything necessary.

I’ve got a lot counting on me to bring in a steady stream of reasonable income—things I absolutely cannot sacrifice—and every day I’m not doing that, we go farther in the hole.

When Margo doesn’t say anything, I feel the urge to expand, the impulse to convince her to give me a chance nearly overpowering.

“I’m a dedicated employee, though. I give a hundred and ten percent to every assignment,” I add. “It might take me a day or two to get my feet under me, but I’m confident in my ability to adapt.”

Margo meets my eyes, searching my face for a long beat before nodding. “You’ve got a nice sound, I’ll give you that. A nice look, too, not that that matters too much around here.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >109

Advertisement The Duke Who Saved Christmas Read Online Emma Hart http://www.books2020.com/the-duke-who-saved-christmas-read-online-emma-hart Sun, 07 Dec 2025 21:06:59 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/the-duke-who-saved-christmas-read-online-emma-hart Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny Authors: Emma Hart Advertisement

Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >124

Sylvie Harding once swore that the only reason she’d ever return to Castleton was to plan her sister’s wedding… And here she is.

After eleven months of planning, the Christmas Eve wedding of her little sister’s dreams is only three weeks away, and professional wedding planner Sylvie is all hands-on deck from the moment she arrives home. Swept up in the magic that is Christmas in her hometown, the only thing that can possibly dampen her spirit is coming face to face with her childhood frenemy.

Thomas, the Duke of Castleton.

The man she spent her childhood feuding with thanks to an errant cricket ball is just as snarky, annoying, and gorgeous as she remembers. Despite running the village tree farm and his mother being the ringleader of all things Christmas in town, the past few years have turned him into a right little scrooge.

When a string of tragedies hit the wedding plans, Sylvie only has one person she can turn to: Thomas. Not that she has a choice—he has a habit of showing up exactly when she needs him to save the day, and she can’t stand it.

And when the ultimate disaster befalls the wedding just two days before the ceremony, Sylvie doesn’t see how it can go ahead.

But Thomas can.

And it just might be his chance to prove to Sylvie how he truly feels about her—and save Christmas at the same time

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE – SYLVIE

There was a pig in the middle of the road.

I was more surprised than I probably should have been, but in my defense, the pig was wearing reindeer antlers.

How they were in place, I didn’t know. I couldn’t even begin to tell you how such a momentous feat was occurring, but it was a stark reminder of where I was.

Castleton. The Yorkshire Dales. Where pink and black pigs mooching about in the middle of the road wearing a reindeer antler headband wasn’t all that weird.

All right.

The reindeer headband was weird.

The pig, however, was totally normal.

Farm animals weren’t exactly known for staying inside their fields, and it wasn’t as if there was a shortage of those here.

Everywhere.

Fields were everywhere.

So were farm animals, to be fair, although they did tend to retreat to barns in the winter. The frosts up here were sharp—sharper than I was used to after ten years living in the south of England where it was decidedly warmer. Unless Jack Frost wanted to terrorise most of the population, of course, then all bets were off.

Especially when he got together with a pissed off Elsa.

Never mind. I was going off on a tangent.

The point remained that there was a tiny pig in the middle of the road, and the pig possessed a remarkably lacking sense of danger. Lone animals usually hightailed it into the nearest field when a car came, but this one was just standing there, staring at me.

All right. Not all animals. Like sheep.

Sheep didn’t count.

Sheep were absolute bastards.

And so were bloody pheasants on account of the fact they flew into your car instead of away from it.

Maybe a pheasant was where this miniature pig learnt its road safety.

I turned the key to stop the engine running, grabbed my phone, and got out, taking the key with me. The last thing I needed was to get locked out of my car on what I knew was an unnamed road with no serious civilisation for at least a twenty-minute drive.

Apparently, you could take the girl out of the countryside, but you couldn’t take the countryside out of the girl.

I turned on the torch on my phone, sighed, and looked at the pig. “What are you doing out here?”

The little black and pink porker that was either a piglet or one of those mini pigs looked at me.

Naturally, it didn’t talk back.

It was a shame. If it did, then I’d know where to return him. On the other hand, allowing animals the ability to speak sounded like a headache that should only be unleashed on Halloween.

Or, you know.

Never.

In hindsight, parrots were bad enough.

Gracious, could you imagine if cats were given the gift of speaking the English language? We’d never hear the end of their complaints.

Dogs? That I could get on board with. A great deal of their chatter would be saying how much they love us and how happy they were to see us, and that was the kind of thing you could never hear too many times.

That was why I wanted a dog more than I wanted a boyfriend.

The dog would appreciate me more. And they were trainable.

At least so said my dating history.

The pig stared at me for a moment longer before he turned away and walked towards the hedgerow. It disappeared into the darkness, and the branches of the roadside hedge snagged on its reindeer antlers, popping them off its head.

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