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About Vi Keeland
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Finding a good roommate through a classified ad isn’t as easy as it sounds.
I was starting to lose hope.
Until a knock at my door came and God answered my prayers.
Except…uh…wrong prayer, God.
I’d definitely requested the big guy find me a drop-dead gorgeous man on more than one occasion...just not as my roommate.
Declan Tate talked me into interviewing him anyway.
While he was amusing and charismatic, I wouldn’t have been comfortable living with a man, so I regretfully declined.
Then cupcakes showed up at my door—freshly baked by Declan and just as sinfully delicious as he was.
You could say he was persistent.
I eventually folded. It wasn’t like I had another viable candidate anyway.
Plus, I was interested in someone else. And Declan was into another woman. So it wasn’t like anything would happen romantically.
After he moved in, the two of us became the best of friends. We even started to give each other advice on getting our crushes to notice us.
Eventually, Declan concocted an idea: we should pretend to be a couple to make our love interests jealous.
I was hesitant, but went along with it anyway. To my utter shock, his crazy plan worked.
Now I was dating the supposed man of my dreams, and my best friend had the woman of his.
But there was one problem.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Declan.
Those feelings we were trying to fake?
Yeah…I wasn’t pretending anymore.
#1 Apple Books Bestseller
Washington Post Bestseller
USA Today Bestseller
Amazon Charts Bestseller
A new, sexy standalone from #1 New York Times Bestseller, Vi Keeland.
The first time I met Hudson Rothschild was at a wedding. I'd received an unexpected invitation to one of the swankiest venues in the city.
Hudson was a groomsman and quite possibly the most gorgeous man I'd ever laid eyes on. He asked me to dance, and our chemistry was off the charts.
I knew it wasn't a good idea to get involved with him, considering the wedding I was at. But our connection was intense, and I was having a great time.
Though the fun came to a screeching halt when Hudson figured out I wasn't who I'd said I was. You see, that unexpected invitation I received? Well, it hadn't actually been addressed to me--it was sent to my ex-roommate who'd bounced a check for two months' rent and moved out in the middle of the night. I figured she owed me an expensive night out, but I guess, technically, I was crashing the wedding.
Once caught, I couldn't get out of there fast enough. As I bolted for the door, I might've plucked a few bottles of expensive champagne off the tables I passed, all while the gorgeous, angry groomsman was hot on my tail.
Outside, I jumped into a taxi. My heart ricocheted against my ribs as we drove down the block--but at least I'd escaped unscathed.
Or so I thought.
Until I realized I'd left my cell phone behind at the table.
Take one guess who found it?
This is the crazy story of how Hudson Rothschild and I met. But trust me, it's only the tip of the iceberg.
The feud between Weston Lockwood and me started at the altar.
Only neither of us attended the wedding, and the nuptials happened decades before either of us was born.
Our grandfathers had been best friends and business partners, at least up until my grandfather’s wedding day—when his bride-to-be blurted out she couldn’t marry him because she was also in love with Weston's grandfather.
The two men spent years fighting over Grace Copeland, who also happened to be their third business partner. But in the end, neither man could steal half of her heart away from the other.
Eventually, they all went their separate ways. Our grandfathers married other women, and the two men became one of the biggest business rivals in history.
Our fathers continued the family tradition of feuding. And then Weston and I did, too.
For the most part, we kept as much distance as possible.
Until the day the woman who started the feud died—and unexpectedly left one of the most valuable hotels in the world to our grandfathers to share.
Now I’m stuck in a hotel with the man I was born to hate, trying to unravel the mess our families inherited.
As usual, it didn’t take long for us to be at each other’s throats.
Weston Lockwood was everything I hated: tall, smart, cocky, and too gorgeous for his own good. We were fire and ice.
But that shouldn’t be an issue. Our families were used to being at war. There was just one minor problem, though. Every time Weston and I fought, we somehow wound up in bed.
A new, sexy standalone novel from #1 New York Times Bestseller, Vi Keeland.
Terminated for inappropriate behavior.
I couldn't believe the letter in my hands.
Nine years. Nine damn years I'd worked my butt off for one of the largest companies in America, and I was fired with a form letter when I returned home from a week in Aruba.
All because of a video taken when I was on vacation with my friends--a private video made on my private time. Or so I thought...
Pissed off, I cracked open a bottle of wine and wrote my own letter to the gazillionaire CEO telling him what I thought of his company and its practices.
I didn't think he'd actually respond.
I certainly never thought I'd suddenly become pen pals with the rich jerk.
Eventually, he realized I'd been wronged and made sure I got my job back.
Only...it wasn't the only thing Grant Lexington wanted to do for me.
But there was no way I was getting involved with my boss's boss's boss. Even if he was ridiculously gorgeous, confident, and charming.
It would be completely wrong, inappropriate even.
Sort of like the video that got me into trouble to begin with.
Two wrongs don't make a right.
But sometimes it's twice as fun.
The first time I met Chase Parker, I didn't exactly make a good impression.
I was hiding in the bathroom hallway of a restaurant, leaving a message for my best friend to save me from my awful date.
He overheard and told me I was a bitch, then proceeded to offer me some dating advice.
So I told him to mind his own damn business―his own tall, gorgeous, full-of-himself damn business―and went back to my miserable date.
When he walked by my table, he smirked, and I watched his arrogant, sexy ass walk back to his date.
I couldn't help but sneak hidden glances at the condescending jerk on the other side of the room. Of course, he caught me on more than one occasion, and winked.
When the gorgeous stranger and his equally hot date suddenly appeared at our table, I thought he was going to rat me out.
But instead, he pretended we knew each other and joined us―telling elaborate, embarrassing stories about our fake childhood.
My date suddenly went from boring to bizarrely exciting.
When it was over and we parted ways, I thought about him more than I would ever admit, even though I knew I'd never see him again.
I mean, what were the chances I'd run into him again in a city with eight million people?Then again...
What were the chances a month later he'd wind up being my new sexy boss?
My relationship with Hunter Delucia started backwards.
We met at a wedding—him sitting on the groom’s side, me sitting on the bride’s. Stealing glances at each other throughout the night, there was no denying an intense, mutual attraction.
I caught the bouquet; he caught the garter. Hunter held me tightly while we danced and suggested we explore the chemistry sparking between us. His blunt, dirty mouth should’ve turned me off. But for some crazy reason, it had the opposite effect on me.
We ended up back in my hotel room. The next morning, I headed home to New York leaving him behind in California with the wrong number.
I thought about him often, but after my last relationship, I’d sworn off of charming, cocky, gorgeous-as-sin men. A year later, Hunter and I met again at the birth of our friends’ baby. Our attraction hadn't dulled one bit. After a whirlwind trip, he demanded a real phone number this time. So I left him with my mother’s—she could scare away any man with her talks of babies and marriage—and flew back home.
I’d thought it was funny, until the following week when he rang the bell at Mom’s house for Sunday night dinner. The crazy, gorgeous man had won over my mother and taken an eight-week assignment in my city. He proposed we spend that time screwing each other out of our systems.
Eight weeks of mind-blowing sex with no strings attached? What did I have to lose?
Nothing, I thought.
It’s just sex, not love.
But you know what they say about the best laid plans…
From #1 New York Times Bestseller Vi Keeland, comes a new, sexy standalone novel.
Bennett Fox walked into my life on one hell of a crappy Monday morning.
I was late for the first day at my new job--a job I'd now have to compete for even though I'd already worked eight years to earn it, because of an unexpected merger.
While I lugged my belongings up to my new office, a meter maid wrote me a parking summons.
She'd ticketed a long line of cars--except for the Audi parked in front of me, which happened to be the same make and model as mine.
Annoyed, I decided to regift my ticket to the car that had evaded a fine. Chances were, the owner would pay it and be none the wiser.
Except, I accidentally broke the windshield wiper while slipping the ticket onto the car's window.
Seriously, my day couldn't get any worse.
Things started to perk up when I ran into a gorgeous man in the elevator. We had one of those brief moments that only happened in movies.
You know the deal...your body lights up, fireworks go off, and the air around you crackles with electricity.
His heated stare left me flushed when I stepped off the elevator.
Maybe things here wouldn't be so bad after all.
Or so I thought.
Until I walked into my new boss's office and met my competition.
The gorgeous man from the elevator was now my nemesis. His heated stare wasn't because of any mutual attraction. It was because he'd seen me vandalize his car. And now he couldn't wait to annihilate his rival.
There's a fine line between love and hate--and we shouldn't cross it.
We shouldn't--but straddling that line could be so much fun.
The first time I met Caine West was in a bar.
He noticed me looking his way and mistakenly read my scowling as checking him out.
When he attempted to talk to me, I set him straight―telling him what I thought of his lying, cheating, egomaniacal ass.
You see, the gorgeous jerk had wined and dined my best friend-smooth talking her into his bed, all along failing to mention that he was married.
He deserved every bit of my tongue-lashing and more for what he'd done.
Especially when that lazy smile graced his perfect face in response to my rant.
Only it turned out, the man I'd just told off wasn't the right guy.
Oops. My mistake.
Embarrassed, I slunk out without an apology.
I was never going to see the handsome stranger again anyway, right?
That's what I thought...until I walked into class the next morning.
Well, hello Professor West, I'm your new teaching assistant.
I'll be working under you...figuratively speaking.
Although the literal interpretation might not be such a bad thing―working under Professor West.
This was going to be interesting...
The night I met Drew Jagger, he'd just broken into my new Park Avenue office.
I dialed 9-1-1 before proceeding to attack him with my fancy new Krav Maga skills.
He quickly restrained me, then chuckled, finding my attempted assault amusing.
Of course, my intruder had to be arrogant.
Only, turned out, he wasn't an intruder at all.
Drew was the rightful occupant of my new office. He'd been on vacation while his posh space was renovated.
Which was how a scammer got away with leasing me office space that wasn't really available for rent.
I was swindled out of ten grand.
The next day, after hours at the police station, Drew took pity on me and made me an offer I couldn't refuse. In exchange for answering his phones while his secretary was out, he'd let me stay until I found a new place.
I probably should have acted grateful and kept my mouth shut when I overheard the advice he was spewing to his clients. But I couldn't help giving him a piece of my mind.
I never expected my body to react every time we argued. Especially when that was all we seemed to be able to do.
The two of us were complete opposites. Drew was a bitter, angry, gorgeous-as-all-hell, destroyer of relationships. And my job was to help people save their marriages.
The only thing the two of us had in common was the space we were sharing.
And an attraction that was getting harder to deny by the day.
Amazon’s #1 Most Unputdownable Book of the Year.
An Amazon Charts bestseller.
A Wall Street Journal bestseller.
A Washington Post bestseller.
From New York Times bestselling authors Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward comes an unexpected love story of secondhand hearts and second chances…
It all started with a mysterious blue note sewn into a wedding dress.
I’d gone to sell my own unworn bridal gown at a vintage clothing store. That’s when I found another bride’s “something old.”
Stitched into the lining of a fabulously feathered design was the loveliest message I’d ever read: Thank you for making all of my dreams come true.
The name embossed on the blue stationery: Reed Eastwood, obviously the most romantic man who ever lived. I also discovered he’s the most gorgeous. If only my true-love fantasies had stopped there. Because I’ve since found out something else about Mr. Starry-Eyed.
He’s arrogant, cynical, and demanding. I should know. Thanks to a twist of fate, he’s my new boss. But that’s not going to stop me from discovering the story behind his last love letter. A love letter that did not result in a happily ever after.
But that story is nothing compared to the one unfolding between us. It’s getting hotter, sweeter, and more surprising than anything I could have imagined.
But I have no idea how this one is going to end…
From New York Times & USA Today Bestseller, Vi Keeland, comes a sexy new standalone novel.
The first time I met Brody Easton was in the men's locker room.
The famed quarterback decided to bare all.
And by all, I don't mean he told me any of his secrets.
No. The arrogant ass decided to drop his towel, just as I asked the first question. On camera.
The Super Bowl MVP quickly adopted a new hobby--screwing with me.
When I pushed back, he shifted from wanting to screw with me, to wanting to screw me.
But I don't date players.
And it's not because I'm one of the few women working in the world of professional football.
I'd date an athlete.
It's the other kind of player I don't date.
You know the type. Good looking, strong, cocky, always looking to get laid.
Brody Easton was the ultimate player.
Every woman wanted to be the one to change him.
But the truth was, all he needed was a girl worth changing for.
Turned out, I was that girl.
Let's face it. It never is.
There's a story between once upon a time and happily ever after...
And this one is ours.
Author's note - The Baller is a full-length standalone novel. Due to strong language and sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.