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About Pippa Grant
Pippa Grant is a USA Today and #1 Amazon bestselling author who writes romantic comedies that will make tears run down your leg. When she's not reading, writing or sleeping, she's being crowned employee of the month as a stay-at-home mom and housewife trying to prepare her adorable demon spawn to be productive members of society, all the while fantasizing about long walks on the beach with hot chocolate chip cookies.
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Titles By Pippa Grant
Emotionally unavailable doesn’t even begin to describe Hayes Rutherford. He’s cold. He’s distant. He has more defenses than a nuclear missile silo. And he’s the ultimate catch of the century. At least, according to his bank statement.
My job’s simple: Keep Hayes’s matchmaking relatives and all interested ladies away from the cranky, grumpy, walled-off heir to my favorite movie empire by pretending to be his one true love, and in return, he won’t ruin my life over a teensy, tiny little misunderstanding.
But the more I sneak past his walls and fences, the more I realize that while we might be from different worlds, we have more in common than either of us expected. The man under all the glitz, glamour, and dollar signs could be the real love of my life.
But you know what they say about fake dating a billionaire—it’s all fun and games until the scandals start.
The Last Eligible Billionaire is a swoony, laugh-out-loud romance featuring a botched wax job, a woman in over her head, a man in over his heart, and the sweetest misguided dog to ever play matchmaker…or at least make sure these two anti-love birds never have clothes when they get out of the shower. It stands alone and comes complete with grand romantic gestures.
From USA Today bestselling author Pippa Grant comes a fabulously sharp-witted romantic comedy about a socialite’s fall from elitist grace to backcountry purgatory—and her accidental tumble into love.
If the Upper East Side had an evil twin, it would be Tickled Pink, Wisconsin. This run-down, backwoods town isn’t worthy of the footprint of my Louboutins, never mind all of me.
But when my grandmother has a near-death experience and realizes we Lightlys can’t buy our way into heaven, she relocates the family to Tickled Pink to work on improving our souls. And that’s how I trade my heiress existence for gigantic bugs, dishwater coffee, and a cranky single dad named Teague Miller.
Teague spends his days fishing, raising his spunky teenager, and after an unfortunate incident involving cheese curds, living rent-free in my head. The one thing he and I can agree on is that I don’t belong here. He’s willing to help me escape—until the unexpected happens.
I kind of like him. I might even more than like him.
But am I ready to give up the life I adored for a man I love to hate?
When you work hard and have the bank account to prove it, you’re entitled to play hard. I’ve seen some crazy things. I’ve caused some crazy scenes. And there’s no shame in my game.
But I’m still knocked off my stilettos when an insane chain of events leads to me inheriting a baby. The craziest part? The baby comes with a by-the-books, no-nonsense retired Marine who's so regimented that I wouldn't be surprised if he irons his boxer shorts.
Parenting? Bring it on. I don’t need sleep—I once started my day with business meetings in Cairo and ended it three days later at a club in Melbourne. Changing diapers? Please. It can't be any more challenging than changing out of Spanx on the back of a moving motorcycle. Training the little guy to run the family’s real estate empire? He’ll be all our bosses by the time he’s four.
But living with my new co-guardian? The gruff, muscled, tattooed former military man who manages to check all my boxes while trying to sneak under my skin?
He needs to go.
Because the longer he stays, the more layers he’s peeling off my heart.
But love isn’t something that’s ever diluted my gene pool, and I like my life just fine without it. I have awesome friends, this adorable baby and an obscene amount of money. Who needs love?
Turns out…maybe me.
Crazy for Loving You is a larger-than life ride through accidental parenthood featuring a fun-loving billionaire playgirl, a crusty Marine with a gooey center, a horny dolphin, the world’s most obscene pool, and all the fun you’d expect from a world built by Lucy Score, Claire Kingsley, Kathryn Nolan, and Pippa Grant.
The Bluewater Billionaires are four shared-world hot romantic comedies written by Lucy Score, Claire Kingsley, Kathryn Nolan, and Pippa Grant. They can all be read as stand-alone novels.
A sweet, lighthearted romantic comedy from USA Today bestselling author Pippa Grant about one social media influencer’s dream of going off the grid and the IRL love she finds along the way.
Secrets always catch up with you. The world knows me as Tavi Lightly, sugar-free social media influencer. But my true purpose lies in secretly restoring a cacao farm in Costa Rica. Unfortunately, to save the farm, I need access to the trust fund that my grandmother has frozen. She’s requiring me to do charity work in Tickled Pink, Wisconsin, and until I meet her ultimatum—no trust fund. So to Tickled Pink I go.
My first grandmother-approved charity project? Helping local reformed bad boy Dylan Wright. He has secrets too, like how he’s hung up on his married best friend. Kick-starting his dating life is as easy as making him famous through association with me.
Not so easy is the fact that we’re falling for each other. He belongs in Tickled Pink, and I belong on my farm. We might share our secrets with one another, but can we really share our lives too?
Mission: Survive my best friend's wedding, where I must play nice with my ex and his perfect new girlfriend.
Strategy: Bring the hottest fake boyfriend on the planet.
Target: Grady Rock. Master Baker. Dimples. Muscles. The unicorn of fake boyfriends.
Complication: Wyatt Morgan. My brother's best friend. My sworn enemy. Military man. Sexy as hell single dad. The man I let into my panties for one night of hot hate sex after my ex dumped me.
And the man who just scared off that perfect fake boyfriend.
By pretending to be my real boyfriend.
I can roll with this though. What’s the harm in Flirting with the Frenemy if it helps me get the job done?
Complete my mission and move on.
Or so I thought.
Until Wyatt kisses me again and I start feeling things I shouldn't.
The thing about weddings...nothing ever goes as planned.
Flirting with the Frenemy is a rollicking fun romantic comedy featuring a single dad military man, an irritatingly attractive blast from his past, pirates, cursing parrots, and a wedding gone wild. It stands alone with no cheating or cliffhangers.
I, Tillie Jean Rock, am not in love with my brother’s teammate. Sure, he might have those biceps and that “I am the grouchiest of grouchy bears” smolder, and he might shovel snow off his driveway next door wearing nothing but boxer shorts and rubber boots, and he might be running a side business feeding all the stray goats in town, but studliness is only skin-deep.
And I might flirt with him every chance I get, but I swear it’s only to annoy my brother.
Because Max Cole?
Under all of those glorious muscles and chiseled cheekbones and searing glares beats the heart of a heartless devil.
I could no sooner fall in love with a guy who treats me like a kid, and judges me at every opportunity, and sets an army of garden gnomes loose on my yard, than I could fall in love with my grandfather’s pet parrot.
But I can definitely annoy him. I can one hundred percent get on board with annoying him.
That’s what you do when you don’t like your neighbor, right?
But you know what they say about love and hate…
It’s a very thin line.
Especially when the real reason I’m not in love with Max Cole—that he’s incapable of love—might not be true at all.
The Grumpy Player Next door is a fun-filled enemies-to-lovers romcom featuring a ray of sunshine on a mission, an athlete who’s only grouchy around her, and an epic prank gone wrong. It stands alone and comes complete with small-town shenanigans, a goat who’s not nearly as wise as his name suggests, and proof that sometimes, love is the best kind of vengeance.
"You're a spicy taco with extra guacamole."
You know those stories where an unlikely hero steps up to save a ragtag bunch of lovable losers from their fate of continuing to be the worst team to ever sports in the history of sportsing?
That’s all I’ve wanted for my hometown team, the Fireballs, for years. I’m their biggest fan, and I would do anything to support them. How could I not, when their baseball field is the one place I feel like I belong?
Enter Brooks Elliott. Baseball’s hottest slugger is our newest player, and he should be that hero we’ve been looking for. But when I find out what he really wants this year—which is not for the Fireballs to win—I realize I have to stop him.
No matter what it takes. Who might get hurt. And how much I start to like him along the way.
What’s a girl to do when she has to choose between the team of her heart and the man of her dreams?
Jock Blocked is a home run of a feel-good romantic comedy featuring the world’s most superstitious sports fan, baseball’s oldest virgin hero, a rogue meatball, an adorable puppy with a cussing problem, and the best lovable losers. It stands alone and comes with a happily ever after more satisfying than a game-winning grand slam.
Yeah. I just basically did the equivalent. Except worse. Now my millions of social media followers are reading and sharing the rude, smartass message I meant to send privately to my little sister as a joke...and I’m officially public enemy number one.
I’m Beck Ryder. Former boy bander. Underwear model. Fashion mogul. And I buried my entire leg in my mouth—not just my foot—modern internet style, and publicly insulted my sister’s neighbor.
Also known as the woman of my dreams, who loves geeky TV shows, baseball, and giraffes, who’s just as turned on by food as I am, and who has a huge secret that I didn’t see coming.
Now it's time to grovel and apologize publicly on social media and hope that those same followers who helped start the raging shitstorm will help calm the waters.
Because Sarah doesn’t want the spotlight. For very good reasons that I can’t tell you right now and trying to convince her to be my fake girlfriend to fix this mess and make me look like less of a jackass is worse than taking a kick to the nuts by Jackie Chan.
And I thought modeling underwear made me feel naked.
Trying to start a relationship in the era of the Twitterazzi isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.
America’s Geekheart is a rockin’ fun romantic comedy featuring a billionaire fashion mogul who got his start modeling underwear, the geeky girl next door with a secret the size of California, and more superstitions and secrets than you can shake a baseball bat at. It stands alone with no cheating or cliffhangers.
There are three things I hate:
Bratwurst in any form, my neighbors boinking like farm animals at 3 AM, and Chase Jett.
Mostly I hate Chase Jett. It's been ten years since he took my virginity—I'd make a bratwurst joke, but the unfortunate truth is that it would have to be a brat-best joke, and yes, it kills me to admit that—and now he's not only a billionaire, he's also my new boss.
Turns out our hate is mutual. And this kind of hate is horrifically twisted, filthy, and banging hot.
I just might have to hate him forever.
Mister McHottie is the hilariously sexy romantic comedy that your mother warned you about, complete with an organic happy-ever-after (or seven), a Bratwurst Wagon, ill-advised office pranks, and no cheating or cliffhangers.
Be still my panties. I think I’m in trouble.
If people have polar opposites, Luca Rossi is mine.
His butt is in the baseball hall of fame. Mine’s comfortably seated in the hall of lame.
When he’s not snagging fly balls out in center field, he’s modeling in shampoo commercials. I once jammed my own finger while stirring cookie dough, and sometimes I forget shampoo is a thing.
He’s a total cynic when it comes to love.
I make a living writing love stories.
But after my latest broken engagement (no, I don’t want to talk about how many times that’s happened), it’s clear he’s exactly the man I need.
If anyone can teach me to be the opposite of me, it’s him.
The first thing I want him to teach me?
How to not fall in love.
And as luck would have it, he’s in desperate need of a fake girlfriend to get a meddling grandmother off his back.
We couldn’t be more perfect together, because the last thing Luca Rossi will ever be is the next man to leave me at the altar.
Or will he?
Real Fake Love is a line drive straight to the heart featuring a grumpy athlete, a jilted bride, a fake relationship, and the world’s laziest cat. It stands alone and comes complete with sibling rivalry, the world’s most awkward shower scene, and a sweetly satisfying happily ever after.
You don’t know me, but you do know me. I’m your neighborhood hot mess single mom, doing my best to keep my head above water while running my little slice of heaven and keeping my youngest from shoving marbles up his nose, which is exactly what he’s doing the first time Levi Wilson, pop star god, world’s sexiest man, and my all-time number one celebrity obsession, walks into my bookstore.
Related: I’m writing this from beyond the grave, because I’ve died of mortification and am now residing in an alternate universe.
I have to be.
Because Levi Wilson came back.
And we had a moment.
Like, a moment moment. The kind that makes me remember that adult pleasure isn’t all about hoping the lock holds in the bathroom so your kids don’t interrupt on the rare occasion you feel like taking an extra-long mommy-time shower.
So when he proposes a no-strings fling?
Count. Me. In.
Thrill of a lifetime, right?
Surely, nothing will go wrong...
The Hot Mess and the Heartthrob is a rockin’ fun, sexy romantic comedy featuring a celebrity panty-melter who doesn’t know what he’s been missing, a sassy single mom hanging on by a string, three adorable children who would never burst in on a woman when she’s on a toilet (ha!), and shameless ovary-busting moments between a guy who never thought he’d be a dad and a family who thought they got along just fine without him. It stands alone and comes complete with a happily-ever-after.
"Kiss me? I thought you wanted to throttle me."
"Kissing and throttling aren't mutually exclusive with you."
Tripp Wilson has to go.
Yes, yes, he’s gorgeous, he’s an adorably patient mess of a single dad, he kisses like a god, and he’s possibly the only person in the world who can turn around this baseball team I just inherited, but still, he has to go.
I don’t trust him.
That kissing thing?
Let’s call it a mistake. Pretty sure he’d agree. After all, he was the one pretending to be someone else when it happened.
But if I don’t take him on as the president of operations of the Copper Valley Fireballs, the worst baseball team in the history of professional sports which now belongs to me, I’ll be forced to sell the one last link I have to my family.
But there will be no more kissing. No more flirting. And no more swooning over him with his two preschoolers.
First of all, because he lied to me.
And second of all, because I might be lying to him too.
All’s fair in business and baseball, right?
Tell that to my heart.
Liar, Liar, Hearts on Fire is a rocking fun romance between a single dad obsessed with baseball, an heiress with secrets, baseball pants, a rundown team, and rabid ducks. It stands alone and comes with a guaranteed happily-ever-after.