Resultados de "K.M. Neuhold" en Todas las categorias

I feel like I've been fighting my whole life, and tapping out has never been an option. I can live with owing money to the Morettis. I can even live with the constant guilt that my brother is the one paralyzed in a hospital bed while I live his dream. What I can't live with is Elio Moretti, second in command to the infamous crime family, showing up to all my fights, sitting in the front row, watching me like he can't look away, and barging into the locker room to patch up my wounds and invade my space.

Is there such thing as love at first bar fight? I may be small and pretty, but what I lack in intimidation factor, I make up for in violence. I made a vow five years ago that the motorcycle club responsible for my brother’s death would pay the price, and I’m finally ready to collect. May God have mercy on the men who hurt my brother, because I don’t plan to.

When Gates shows up needing a place to crash , I offer him my spare room. Whatever happened between us nearly a decade ago is water under the bridge. I don’t lie awake at night wondering what could have been. Nope, definitely not.

Between running a garage full of beefed-up gear-head mechanics and bailing my idiot brother out of trouble every other week, the last thing I have time for is a relationship. I’ve tried it too many times, and the ridiculous reasons I always find to end it have become a running joke around the garage. But I’ve learned my lesson. No. More. Boyfriends. I don’t care how many times Porter falls asleep drunk in my bed or how cute he looks covered in oil smears while I teach him how to fix up the vintage car he has rusting away in his garage; I’m not going to fall for him.

It took me over 35 years to admit to myself that I’m gay, another seven to find the courage to say it out loud to anyone else, and exactly 30 seconds to develop a massive crush on my daughter’s music teacher. It’s really not my fault. Have you even seen those cute bowties he wears? After everything it’s taken to get here, am I going to work up the nerve to come out to my ex-wife and my best friends?

Teddy is ready to pop the question, but can he find the perfect movie-moment proposal for Harlow? And, more importantly, will Low survive meeting the parents? Oh, the joy of Christmas. A missed connecting flight, inappropriate winter attire, and a kitchen fire…it wouldn’t be Christmas without some complications, right? I know Harlow is desperately trying to impress my family, but I’m a lot more concerned about coming up with a proposal worthy of his Hollywood dreams.

I’ve spent my entire adult life working eighty hours a week, chasing money, security…success. When my recent start-up went under, leaving me with nothing to show for years of grinding myself down to the bone, I’m not sure who I am anymore. I never thought I’d be 48 with no money, living with my brother, trying to figure everything out from scratch. But, here we are….

Lewis. Clingy, needy, Too Much. Just a few choice words from men who never deserved me anyway. I'm not going to make the same mistakes again though. I plan to ride the motorcycle hottie of my dreams just until we both get bored. Besides, who has time for anything but a quick fling when the jerks at the tattoo shop next door insist on doing everything they can to annoy the hell out of me with some stupid prank war?

All my life, I’ve dreamed of one thing: the perfect movie moment. I want a man and his boombox outside my window; I want kissing in the rain; I want a romantic hero who will take my breath away. Switching mail with my cute neighbor didn’t work. Swapping coffee with a hottie at the coffee shop just got the poor barista yelled at. And bus guy? Total bust. I’m starting to wonder if Hollywood got the whole meet-cute thing wrong. Sacrilege, I know. Is it possible the perfect leading man has been living in the apartment above me the entire time, playing the role of my best friend?

I’ve been living under storm clouds since my honorable discharge, but Julian’s the sun. I’ve tried everything to deal with my PTSD, but nothing seemed to help. So when my brother suggests a service dog, I figure I don’t have anything to lose. The last thing I expect is for the dog to come with a cheerful, quirky trainer I can’t get out of my head. I’m too screwed up for love, but a chance to explore a side of myself I didn’t realize existed until recently is too good to pass up.

When I was 16, I was afflicted with a terrible curse...I fell in love with my straight best friend. I never thought I'd move past my feelings for Nash and find someone who could love me in return - until the day a gorgeous marine plopped himself down in my chair and asked me to ink him. I'm falling fast for Zade, but my feelings for Nash are still very real. When life starts getting complicated and Nash speaks the words I never thought I'd hear, the only thing I want is for us to find a way to make this work...together.

I never thought a night out could change everything. All I wanted was to dance, drink, maybe take a cute guy home for a night of fun. I met the guy, but the night ended as a nightmare. Screams and blood and tragedy haunt my dreams. I'm alive and I owe it all to the gorgeous marine who refused to leave me for dead. But how can I start a new relationship when I'm not even sure who I am anymore?

Of course, I've noticed Angel and Devil noticing me. I've felt their eyes and the deep pulse of their heated wanting. I've also seen plenty of men coming and going from their house all summer long, year after year, and I don't want to be one in a long line. The energy of Palm Island is so strong, it's hard not to get swept up in it sometimes. Temporary lust, the hedonistic thrill of excess I'm only human after all. But something stops me every time I want to give in and let go.

Most of the guys on Palm Island call me the token straight guy. The truth is, I'm not so much straight as I'm just… nothing. Asexual, demi, the label doesn't make much of a difference to me. And living on an island that's nothing but parties and nudity half the year… well, let's put it this way… I'm the guy who sells clothes.

In my defense, Saxon is a gorgeous, successful, big-d**k Daddy with a million SUBscribers drooling over his Daddy Cam. He probably has 10 boys a week on their knees...or over his. And I’m nothing but his nerdy roommate and oldest friend. Except, the way he looks at me never makes me feel that way. The way he looks at me makes me think that maybe he sees me too.

I'm a list person. Lists make sense, they give a chaotic, unpredictable world order. Realizing I was gay at 30 definitely wasn't on my list. I guess I need a new list….

I thought I had one chance to kiss him, and I blew it. We were 16, and I was an idiot. But now, here he is, standing right in front of me, looking at me with that same expression of awe and adoration that I never lost my addiction to.

Pete doesn’t think he’s fit for island life, but he doesn’t know Palm Island like I do. He might think it’s all drinking on the beach and bed-hopping, but maybe if I can show him the beauty and freedom underneath it all, he might decide to stay.

Was pretending to sleep with tons of men to keep my crush from hooking up with them a Dirty Trick? Sure. Do I regret it? Not one bit. Telling Boston I have a thing for him would’ve been the logical thing to do. Unfortunately, logic hasn’t always been my strong suit. I decided to go the—“get under his skin until hostility turns into affection”—route instead, and I think it’s finally working.

We haven't spoken in 15 years, and Marlon is the last person I expected to run into in a bar on Bourbon Street. He's not my gangly internet pen pal anymore; he's all muscles, body hair, and temptation. Our friendship feels like it never faded, but the heat between us is brand-new. We're both in different cities every few weeks, hustling to build our careers and soaking up all the perks of being young, hot, and untethered. But our paths seem to be crossing more and more often.