This curvy teacher never anticipated being charged with murder…or falling for the bossy detective in charge of the case.

Ivy Kendall
Cameron Lewis is the man of my dreams.
Bossy, gorgeous, and fiercely intelligent.
When he touches me, I go up in flames.
There's only one problem.
He's a homicide detective.
And I'm the primary suspect in a murder I didn't commit.
I could lose everything, and so could Cam.
But whoever is trying to ruin my life doesn't get to destroy his too. I won't allow it.
One way or another, I will stop them from harming the man I love.
Even if it means sacrificing myself.

Cameron Lewis
Ivy Kendall thinks she's a fierce tiger.
I know she's a harmless little kitten.
She's also quickly becoming the center of my world.
But nothing is ever simple.
Someone is trying to frame her for a crime she didn't commit.
The closer we get to the truth, the more complex the case grows.
Clearing her name will free her.
But learning the truth may destroy her.
I can't let that happen.
I'll protect her, no matter the cost.

Crash Into You is a safe, sweet, and steamy full-length romance featuring a homicide detective and a curvy kindergarten teacher. If you enjoy sassy heroines, OTT protective older men, and steamy mysteries, you'll love this curvy girl romance from Nichole Rose and Ayden Morgen! As always, a sticky-sweet HEA is guaranteed.

*previously titled All Over You.

​A shiver rolls through my body at the feel of his warm breath blowing just inches from my neck. Fine strands of my hair shift with each exhalation from his lips.
 
"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to run from a cop?" he asks, his voice pitched low. He doesn't sound angry though. He sounds…turned on. Before I can react, he cages me in with his arms, one resting on the doorframe beside my head while he unlocks the door for me with the other. He leans in, so close I can feel his lips shaping his next words against my ear. "Do that again and you won't be able to sit down for a week, kitten."
 
A whimper rolls from my lips, heat blasting through me at his threat. My core clenches, my stomach contracting.
 
I spin around to face him, banging the back of my head against the doorframe in the process.
 
His eyes are on fire, lust and frustration turning them a stormy gray.
 
"I―"
 
"Inside," he commands, leaving no room for argument in that single word.
 
I swallow convulsively as he pushes the door open and backs me inside, stalking me.
 
I have no idea what he's going to do when the door closes behind him. Spank me? Fuck me?
 
A case of nerves―or overpowering desire―makes me tremble.
 
He notices. Something flares in his gaze, that same wicked something that drew me in at Mitch's and again at the Red Room. That naughty, bossy bastard who knows exactly how to bring a girl to her knees. The one who knows precisely how far to push to make her beg for it and how much pleasure she can handle before she breaks. That look should be illegal. He hasn't even touched me, and I think I'm going to come.
 
Sweet Jesus.
 
I back away another step and then another, eyeing him warily as I try to decide if I should make a run for it and pray like I hell I get a door locked between us before he catches me, or if I should stay right where I am and let him show me all those filthy things that glint in his eye tells me he's so, so willing to deliver.
 
"Stop," he says, kicking the door to my apartment closed.
 
I immediately stop walking backward and drop my gaze to the floor. The laptop bag in my hand goes with it, falling with a dull thud to the carpeting at my feet.
 
Detective Lewis strides toward me, barely making a sound, or maybe he's stomping, and I just can't hear him over the pounding of my heart. He stops in front of me and wraps his hand around the side of my neck, tilting my chin up until my gaze meets his.
 
"You're a submissive little thing, aren't you?" he asks.
 
Submissive?
 
What?
 
"I'm not…."
 
He must see the shock on my face because his eyes widen and then that wicked smirk tips the corners of his lips up. The dark, smooth sound of his laugh rips through me, exactly like it did on the phone the other day. His finger sweeps across my bottom lip.
 
"Oh, kitten, you are definitely submissive," he says, flashing me that dimple.
 
"I'm―"
 
He cocks a brow and I instantly stop talking.
 
Okay, so maybe I am a little submissive. Just a tiny bit.
 
"Your mouth drives me crazy." He runs his thumb over my lip again. I think he's talking to himself more than me this time, his gaze distracted as it follows the path of his finger. "I can't stop thinking about it. I bet those lips would feel like velvet around my cock, wouldn't they?"
 
Those murmured, filthy words should offend the hell out of me. Instead, they pull a low moan from somewhere deep inside. I can't look away from him. The heat in his gaze, the way his lips move as they shape each syllable, and the sight of his pulse thrumming in his throat…everything about him in this moment is hypnotic, ensnaring me in his spell. I can't drag myself away from him. I don't want to pull away.
 
"I didn't expect you to be able to sing like a fucking goddess. Christ, that beautiful voice. And then you stood up there and called me out in front of everyone for staring at you? Like I could look away, Ivy. Like anyone could," he mutters. "Goddamn. I just need one little taste before I help you."
 
Before I can ask what he means by 'help me', his mouth is on mine. After one moment of relief for the mouthwash and breath mints he had tucked away in his car, my brain ceases to function.
 
He kisses me like he can't get enough, his lips sweeping across mine in gentle brushes before an animalistic groan vibrates in his throat and he goes deeper. His tongue plunges into my mouth to dance across mine as he pulls me closer, one hand tangled in my hair to angle my head, the other on my ass, lifting me into him.
 
I cry out when he pulls my bottom lip between his teeth and bites down. The slight sting has me thrusting my hands into his hair as I try to climb his muscular body. His scent surrounds me, drugging me. God, he smells delicious, like heat and liquid sex.
 
"Knew it," he mumbles against my lips. "Fucking knew you'd go wild as soon as I had my hands on you."
 
He shifts against me and his erection presses into my stomach. He's massive, thick and hard as a rock. My entire body goes up in flames as he pulls me closer. Our tongues dance together before breaking apart and then coming together again. He keeps me in place with that hand in my hair as he palms my round ass through my skirt, kneading and massaging.
 
He's hard everywhere, his body firm and unyielding as muscles bunch and ripple with each movement he makes. The silk of his tie is cool against my overheated skin, the fabric of his suit as soft as Egyptian cotton.
 
"Wh-what are you doing to me?" I gasp, delirious with pleasure.
 
"Claiming what's mine," he says, nipping my bottom lip.
 
I should tell him no, that I'm not his. Something in the back of my mind tries to tell me there's a reason I can't be…a very good reason. But with his hands on me, I don't remember what it is. With his hands on me, it doesn't seem important. This does. The way he feels against me. The way he holds me. How intoxicating his kisses are.
 
He's my own personal storm, and I desperately want to let him rage.

One look at his curvy captive and this Mafia boss will risk it all. Even if it means toppling his own kingdom to the ground...

Rafe Valentino
A life in chains was the deal I made with my father to win my twin's freedom.
My soul is black with the things I've done to keep my promise.
I never regretted any of it until now. Until her.
Amalia Santiago's bravado and fierce defiance make me feel alive in a way I never expected.
I was never meant to fall for her.
I don't deserve to put my filthy hands all over her pristine body.
She's supposed to be my prisoner.
But now, she may be my downfall instead.

Amalia Santiago
When the devil came for my foster brother, I let him take me in his place.
I swore I'd find a way out of this mess for both of us.
Except Rafe Valentino wasn't supposed to have a heart...
And I wasn't supposed to fall for the ruthless crime boss.
So why do I come alive when he touches me?
Now, I'm one wrong move from destroying everything.
And nothing is what it seems.
How do I sacrifice the man I love to save my brother?

If you enjoy OTT possessive older men with a little bit of darkness in them and sassy, curvy heroines with heart, get ready to fall for Rafe and Amalia in this sweet and extra steamy romance. As always, Nichole Rose books come complete with a guaranteed HEA.

Shaking, I climb to my feet and then step in front of Rafe. He leans back, looking up at me through dark lashes, every inch the king. But I see the cracks in his armor now, the thin spots where the steel isn't quite as thick. His nerves are raw, his shoulders tense.

I crawl into his lap, straddling his thighs.

His hands settle on my hips, his lips curving up at the corners. "What are you up to now, tigrotta?"

I desperately need him to make me his, but I don't say that.

"Well," I say, looping my arms around his neck and sliding down his thighs. I bite my lip, fighting back a moan at the glide of fabric and the thickness of his thighs against my bare skin. I'm still in a skirt. They're what I wear most days. I may be big, but the world can just deal with it. I refuse to hide behind baggy clothes and the weight of their shame. "I was thinking."

"About?" He slips his hands beneath my skirt, palming my ass. One fingertip skims along the band of my panties, teasing me.

"You gave me something I want," I murmur. "I should give you something you want."

"Yeah? I want you bouncing on my cock and screaming my name." He smirks, one brow arched. "Preferably with my hand around your pretty throat. I know how much you liked that this morning."

I moan quietly.

His smirk grows, his fingers digging into the cheeks of my ass. "Or maybe I'll take you face down so I can watch this ass bounce while I'm bottoming out in you. Tell me, Amalia, how hard do you think I can fuck you before you break?"

Not very. Not if he's going to use that wicked mouth and his filthy words.

"Depends," I say, leaning forward like I'm going to kiss him. I bring my mouth right up to his, until I feel his uneven breath pelting my lips. Something wholly wicked prompts me to flick my tongue out to touch his lip before I turn my head, denying him the kiss he silently demands. I kiss a trail along his jaw instead, slowly driving him crazy.

By the time I reach his ear, he's rigid and tense beneath me, his fingers gripping me hard enough to leave marks in my skin. I hope they do. I want a reminder of the moment I brought this man to his knees.

"On what?" he snarls.

"On how hard you want me to fight," I breathe before biting his neck. Hard.

He bellows my name like a bear, only he's not wounded. Not even close. I know that sound. I made the same one earlier today. It's ecstasy. This wicked, beautiful man likes it rough and dirty. And as it turns out, so do I.

It's freeing to know I'm not alone in this storm. That the maelstrom raging in my veins rages in his too. We're two imperfect people, but together, we're something that defies description. Yin and yang. Light and dark. We're polarity, the force that balances all things.

Maybe I'm supposed to be a frightened, quivering little virgin. But I'm not. In his arms, I'm powerful and safe. His darkness calls to the sexual, curious woman inside, the one eager to explore all those fantasies that make me ache with longing.
​
I want to yield to this man, give myself over to him, but I don't trust easily. He wants to possess me, to ruin me for anyone else, but this complicated man wants to worship me too. This—the way I fight him, the way he revels in it—isn't about consent. It's about submission.

An MC murdered her sister. To save her niece, this curvy girl's only choice is to place her trust and heart into the hands of another.

Tate Grimes
When people hear biker, they assume trouble.
That's not me or my MC.
I'm a respected pediatric surgeon.
I just happen to like the road at my back, the wind in my face, and the MC brotherhood.
My job and the MC are all I want…
Until Samara Lansing blows into my life and changes everything.
She's a fierce warrior determined to save her niece.
And she thinks I'm the surgeon for the job.
I've never mixed business with pleasure.
But the rules no longer apply.
Samara doesn't know it yet, but as soon as I heal her niece's heart…
I'm claiming hers.

Samara Lansing
Everyone says Tate Grimes is the best pediatric heart surgeon in Texas.
They didn't warn me that he's gorgeous, bossy, and a little bit cocky too.
I need him to save my niece. I didn't expect to fall for him.
Resisting him is futile.
Yet loving him is terrifying.
I know a thing or two about MCs and the men who cling to them.
One murdered my sister and orphaned my niece.
Tate swears he's different, and every instinct tells me it's the truth.
But trusting him to fix my niece's heart is one thing.
Can I really trust him to care for mine too?These wealthy Texans have it all—Money, looks, power, their MC, and brothers. The only thing missing is someone to share it all with. There’s a shortage of eligible ladies in town but these determined men won’t let that slow them down. These MC brothers are going to turn the town of Silver Spoon Falls, Texas, on its ear looking for their curvy soulmates.
Beginning in February 2022, Nichole Rose and Loni Ree are bringing you the Silver Spoon MC and this isn’t your typical MC romance series. Nichole and Loni like to keep things light. Come along with us on this wild instalove ride.

Spying on a bossy cowboy lands this hot mess romance author in hot water.

Cassia Murphy
I'm used to getting fan mail from readers.
I am not used to being told off by bossy cowboys.
But that's exactly what Cord Decker does when he emails me.
According to him, I know nothing about the cowboys I write.
I'll never admit it to him, but he's right.
Which is exactly why I suggest his hometown for the annual Galentine's retreat.
I can't strangle him in real life.
But no one ever said I can't make him sweat in my next book.
I just have to keep him from figuring out who I really am…
And keep from falling for him and his gruff ways.
Easy peasy, right?
Ha. I'm in way over my head.

Cord Decker
I don't know what prompted me to email Cassia Murphy.
But I can't keep the curvy blonde author out of my head.
I never expected to find her running for her life from one of my bulls.
Didn't expect to fall hard for her smart mouth either.
She thinks I don't know who she is.
She's wrong.
This sassy little romance author is mine.
I plan to teach her everything she needs to know about cowboys…
In bed and out of it.

When this older cowboy rescues a hot mess author from a crazy bull, she learns a whole lot more than she anticipated. If growly cowboys, sassy heroines, and laugh-out-loud comedy make your heart pitter-patter, you'll love Cord and Cassia's steamy-sweet story!

What happens at the yearly writers' retreat stays at the retreat...except the bonds these authors forge and the stories they tell. But someone forgot to mention that to the men they find themselves falling for in stunning Lake Tahoe. From the small-town sheriff to the hot, bossy cowboy to the grumpy, reclusive mountain man, these romance authors have stumbled upon real-life trope-tastic heroes that sweep them off their feet. Sometimes literally. Get ready to laugh, cry, and swoon this Valentine's Day when these six authors bring you on a Galentine's Getaway you won't forget.

Galentine’s Getaway is a collection of steamy short romances brought to by six of your favorite instalove authors!

​"Don't tell me you're one of those PETA people," I mutter, running my hands all over her curvy body, worried as fuck the goddamn bull hurt her before I got to her. Seeing her running for her life shaved a good ten years off of mine. As soon as I heard the screaming, I came running to see what the hell was going on. Never expected to see her fleeing in terror from that fucking bull.
"PETA people?"
I opt not to answer her question. Just in case she is one. I've got nothing against vegans, hippies, conservationists, environmentalists, or anyone else really. But the fact that I raise cattle tends to rile most of them up. Never mind that my family and my ranch have done more to solve problems than they'll ever know.
"Are you hurt, pretty baby?" I ask.
"No." Her breath hitches when I call her pretty baby. And then she seems to catch hold of herself. Her stubborn little chin comes up and she swats at my hands. "Would you stop trying to touch all of my parts and let me up?"
"I'm checking for injuries."
"On my boobs?" she hisses.
I glance down and realize she's right. I've got a hand full of one perfect tit. It overflows my meaty palm, making me grin. God yeah, she's perfect. Exactly as soft as I knew she would be. The kind of sweet a man like me could drown in and not regret a second of it. Even dressed in all black—literally from head to toe—and covered in mud, she's somehow erotic as sin and as adorable as a day-old kitten.
"What the hell are you wearing, princess?" I ask, doing a sweep from head to toe. My brows rise as I really take in her outfit. Her black coat hangs open over a black long-sleeved t-shirt that stretches tight across her tits. Her matching leggings hug her thick thighs. They're soaked all the way to her knee on one side. She looks like a cat burglar. One ill prepared for the weather and the ranch.
"Clothes," she sniffs, pushing at my shoulders. Is it my imagination or are her cheeks red? "Will you get off of me, you giant bully? Jeez, you're bigger than that maniacal bull."
"Told you he was a bastard," I grunt, jumping to my feet. Hamburger stands a few yards away, his big body positioned between us and the herd. He's protective of the heifers…which is precisely why he still has horns. He's far better security than any cowboy with a gun. Meaner too.
I glance toward the ranch to see Jace and Toby hauling ass toward us. Of course, neither of them was smart enough to saddle a horse. It's a good thing Cassia isn't hurt. Fuck. I need to hire better help around here. I've got a ranch full of horny cowboys without a lick of goddamn sense between the lot of them.
"Excuse me?" Cassia sits upright behind me. "T-told me? I don't know you."
I turn to face her, wondering what the hell she's playing at. Surely she remembers calling me a video game playing basement dweller? The way she avoids looking directly at me tells me plain as day that she remembers me just fine. She just doesn't want me to know that.
"I'm a cattle thief," she blurts before I can sort out why.
"You're a cattle thief?" I blink down at her, trying not to laugh in her face. If she's a cattle thief, I'm a fucking ballerina. Why am I smiling so hard? Better question, why the hell couldn't her friend pick a better day to camp out at Cam's? I need him here to deal with…everything so I can carry this sassy little thing upstairs and plant my kid in her.
"Yes. A cattle thief. You should call the police and have me arrested."
"Right." I chuckle, running a palm over the top of my head. The only time she'll be going near the police station is when she's bypassing it to go to the courthouse to marry me. But I don't tell her that. I'm guessing by the panic in her voice, she doesn't want me to know who she is. Until I figure out why, I'll play her little game. But we're playing it by my rules. "Well, come on then, little cattle thief. Let's go."
"Oh, good, you believe me," she says, her shoulders sagging with relief.
"Any reason I shouldn't?"
"Nope, none at all." She beams at me, smiling so brightly the heavens part and angels actually fucking sing. My cock and heart throb, the blood in my veins resonating in time to that heavenly chorus. I've never been a religious man, but something about this wild woman has me ready to drop to my knees and praise Jesus.
Instead, I watch as she rolls to her knees. She tips her head back, her pretty eyes crawling up my body. I don't imagine the way they go glassy or the heat that steals across her round cheeks. Nor do I imagine the pink tip of her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip.
"You're naked."
"Not yet," I say, grinning ear to ear. "But I'm willing to change that for you, princess."
She scowls at me. "I mean you're half naked. It's winter. Wear clothes."
"Tore my shirt."
"How? Hulking out of it?"
"Fixing the fence."
"You didn't do a very good job. Your bull was in the woods."
"He doesn't like fences. Actually, he doesn't like much of anything but heifers and raising hell."
She's too busy staring at me to hear what I said. She likes what she sees, even if she doesn't want to admit it. It's a good thing because she'll be seeing a whole lot of it real soon if I have my way. I'm not much to look at. I'm an old bastard compared to her. This way of living is rough. I spend most of my time with the sun beating down on me, yelling at ranch-hands. Ask any of them and they'll tell you my bite is a helluva lot worse than my bark, which is bad enough. Soft, I'm not. But I don't get the impression this girl needs soft. She's a wild one, full of fire and spirit.
I've read every word she's written. I know what makes her tick, what she dreams about, what she craves on that soul-deep level. Cassia Murphy wasn't made for a soft ass man. She was made for me. She might not know it yet, but she will soon enough.
Her breath trembles as she stares up at me, want stamped into every line of her gorgeous face.
Soon, pretty baby. Soon, I silently promise.
She seems to understand my promise and narrows her eyes in suspicion before sniffing loudly. I grin when that chin thrusts stubbornly upward, her nose shooting into the air. Fuck me. Didn't think it was possible to be this hard over something so goddamn adorable, but here we are, my dick wedged so tightly against the zipper of my Wranglers, I pity the bastard.
"What's your name?" I ask, curious as hell to know what bullshit lie she'll tell me.
"Cass…iopeia."
"Cassiopeia?"
She nods miserably, curling in on herself.
Huh. She doesn't like the name.
"That's a terrible name for a cattle thief."
"Blame my mom," she mutters, wincing as she climbs to her feet. She favors her left foot, keeping her right off the ground.
"Shit. You're hurt." I take two steps toward her, kneeling on the ground at her feet.
"No, I'm not."
"Let me see it."
"I'm fine."
"Let me see it," I growl.
She reluctantly places one hand on my shoulder, holding her foot out to me. Her black sneaker is soaked. I peel it and her sock—also black—off. Her delicate little foot is so cold it's damn near blue. I'm not surprised to see black polish on her toenails, but it makes me smile anyway. Of course she painted her nails black for whatever bullshit she's up to today. I prod gently at her foot and ankle, but don't feel anything broken. Her pained whimper breaks my heart when I gently rotate her ankle.
"It's not broken, but it looks like you twisted it pretty good."
"Stupid root in the stupid woods," she mutters under her breath.
"You fell?"
"No. A root tried to murder me, and a log decided to help."
I bite my lip, trying hard not to laugh at the offense in her voice. I tuck her sock into my back pocket and then grab her shoe before hauling myself back to my feet. She squeaks like a bird when I swing her up into my arms.
"What are you doing?" she cries. "Put me down!"
"You can't walk all the way back to the ranch with a twisted ankle."
"You're supposed to be calling the cops," she says, glaring at me.
"Cassiopeia…Can I call you Cassia?"
"Why?"
"Because Cassiopeia might have been beautiful, but she was a mortal queen. You're a fucking goddess, pretty baby. And you damn sure wouldn't have been placed in the heavens to be tortured for all of eternity," I growl.
"Oh," she whispers, her body softening in my arms. "I guess you can call me Cassia."
"Cassia," I say, fighting a smile when she softens further. "How do you expect the cops to arrest you way out here in the pasture?"
Her teeth sink into that pouty bottom lip as she looks around, sheepish. "I didn't think of that," she mumbles. "Fine. I guess you can carry me back to the ranch." Her eyes narrow on me. "But keep your hands to yourself or I'm telling."
"Yeah? Who you tellin'?"
"Everybody."

A little New Years' magic will send a former SEAL and his curvy girl up in flames.

Masen Starks
Six months ago, I found my future.
Theia Perry is the sweetest little angel I've ever met.
When I'm with her, I'm invincible.
But she doesn't need a damaged soldier like me messing up her life.
I shouldn't have asked her to this New Year's Eve party.
But I can't bring myself to regret it.
She deserves better than me.
But before the clock strikes midnight, she'll be mine in every way.

Theia Perry
When I took a job working with veterans, I never thought I'd fall for one.
Masen Starks is a legitimate hero.
And the man of my dreams.
To him, I'm just a curvy college kid and orphaned Army brat.
But when he asks me to the annual New Year's Eve party, I jump at the chance.
One way or another, I'm going to prove that I'm more than he sees.
Tonight, I'm going to be the woman he can't resist.

When this younger curvy girl decides to go get her older SEAL, she ignites more than just fireworks. If you enjoy steamy holiday romance, bossy SEALs, and sassy heroines, you'll love Masen and Theia's sugary-sweet and extra steamy story! Angel Kisses is part of the Midnight Kisses series.

This year, make the ultimate resolution to fall in love with the sexiest book boyfriends around.
Midnight kisses, parties in the city, cozy cabins, and all the taboo sexiness you can handle.
Strap on your slippers, and get cozy, cause these men are coming to you.

It's almost time for the New Year! I'm always a little surprised at this time of year to look back and realize just how much I accomplished. The last two years have been so difficult for so many people in so many ways. But we have individually (and collectively) moved mountains. I'm so proud of you guys for the goals you met, and the courage and grace you continue to exhibit on a daily basis. You should be proud of yourself too! In the midst of chaos, you prevail. Every single day.

Between moving across the country, losing my MIL, and my nephew being ill, this year was HARD. There were some painful lessons in there. But the great thing about dark times is that it's during those times when the light always seems to shine a little brighter.

Somehow, despite everything, I managed to write and release 22 books. I expanded my world, started new projects, and learned so much. Most importantly, I learned a lot about what I'm capable of doing, I made a bunch of new friends, and reconnected with others. Thank you guys for being such a light in my life this year. ILY!

And if you're curious about those 22 books, here's everything I released this year!

• Protect You
• Love on the Clock
• Claimed
• Bossy Pants
• Black Velvet
• His Secret Obsession
• Taken by the Hitman
• Wicked Saint
• Cutie Pie
• Ice Breaker
• Ice Prince
• The Billionaire's Big Bold Weakness
• The Billionaire's Big Bold Wish
• The Billionaire's Big Bold Woman
• Easy Ride
• Falling Hard
• Dirty Boy
• Model Behavior
• Physical Science
• Learning Curve
• A Blushing Bride for Christmas
• Naughty Little Elf

The second generation is all grown up…even if their parents don't agree.

Oliver Goodson
The day I met Lucy Davis, I knew she was mine.
I would have married her right then and there.
But my girl wanted to wait until we graduated.
We're out of school now, and this curvy little angel is mine.
So is the little life growing in her belly.
No one is going to stop me from claiming what belongs to me.
Not even her dad.

Lucy Davis
My whole life, I've watched my parents living a fairytale.
Now, it's my turn.
Come Christmas Day, I'll be Mrs. Oliver Goodson.
It's all I've dreamed about since the day I met him.
I just hope we can keep my dad from finding out our big secret until then.
Otherwise, this baby may be the only one Oliver is able to give me.
Because my dad is going to lose his mind.

Will a secret baby and a grumpy daddy spoil this Blushing Bride's Christmas wedding? Not if her growly man has anything to say about it! A Blushing Bride for Christmas is a second-generation His Blushing Bride romance. It is part of the Holiday Belles series.

Tis’ the Season to Get Married!
Nine of your favorite romance authors have joined forces to bring you a world full of wedding bells and Christmas cheer!
Each short and steamy story promises a happily ever-after, with plenty of mistletoe and snuggles by the fire. The question is, will you end up on the naughty or nice list?

When life spins wildly out of control, a bossy hockey star and a curvy maid will find forever…or be forever ruined.

Theo Kline
I know everything there is to know about hockey.
Right now, I'd give everything just to understand her.
Charlotte Mabry is a curvy little goddess with the sweetest smile.
She's also my mother's boyfriend's favorite niece.
Dating her is off the table so I hired her to work for me instead.
I never expected to find her asleep in my bed.
Or for our first kiss to hit the news.
But I don't care who knows about us. She's mine now.

Charlotte Mabry
My mom always told me falling in love was easy.
But she left out important instructions.
Like what to do when your Prince Charming is a hockey star…
And you're a certified hot mess.
She also forgot to mention what to do when you find yourself homeless and falling asleep in his bed.
When I dreamed of Theo kissing me, I didn't expect it to end up like this.
Now the whole world is watching, and I'm one disaster away from infamy.
When he finds out the truth, he'll never look at me the same way again.
And I already know losing him will break me.

Warning
When this OTT hockey star falls for a hot mess, there's danger on the ice. Just kidding. But there is a lot of steam, which is basically the same thing. If you enjoy laugh-out-loud comedy, adorably sweet hockey stars, and hopeless heroines, you'll love Theo and Charlotte! As always, Nichole Rose books come complete with a sticky sweet and guaranteed HEA.

Two wrongs make the best right for an over-the-top professor and curvy graduate student.

Maya Denver
My mom always said there are plenty of fish in the sea.
But she never met Kane Maxwell.
He's the only fish I see.
He's everything I've ever wanted in a man—caring, intelligent, hot, and bossy.
The only problem?
He has no clue who I am until I sign up for a curvy dating app and match with him.
He knows who I am now...except for that one pesky detail I forgot to mention.
He's my new professor.
And classes begin Monday.

Kane Maxwell
Three days ago, I fell in love with an angel and did the unthinkable.
I joined the dating app I heard her talking about just so I could find her.
When I do, she's everything I knew she would be--beautiful, sweet, sassy.
Her big green eyes and voluptuous curves drive me wild.
The only problem?
Relationships with students are strictly forbidden.
I should have told her the truth from the start.
But when she looks at me, I'm not thinking about class.
All I'm thinking about is making her mine forever.

If you enjoy steamy age-gap romance, OTT protective older men, and an extra dose of sugary-sweet romance, you'll love Maya and Kane's story!

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​My heart leaps into my throat as soon as I see the notification from the app. My hands shake as I unlock my phone and pull the app up to read it.
Kane: Sweet Maya, I need to know… If you're here, who's running heaven?
I stare at his message for a long moment and then giggle. It's cheesy and ridiculous but also sweet at the same time. Far sweeter than I expected from someone who looks like he could give the devil a run for his money.
Me: I left Abel in charge.
Kane: Good choice. God always favored him.
Kane: Not to be forward, but you're fucking beautiful. That sweet smile bowled me over, baby girl.
My stomach flutters, excitement firing through my system. He's flirting with me. He thinks I'm beautiful. Holy crap. If I'm dreaming, I'm never waking up again.
I hesitate for a second, not sure what to say back to him. And then inspiration strikes, and I go for it.
Me: You're not so bad yourself. If you were a Transformer, you'd be Optimus Fine.
Kane: Nice. What else do you got?
Me: If you were a fruit, you'd be a fine-apple.
Kane: I think there's something wrong with my phone. Would you mind calling it?
Me: Um, sure. What's your number?
I wait for him to give it to me.
Kane: It's a pick-up line, sweet Maya.
Me: Oh.
My stomach twists. Even though he can't see me, my cheeks flame with embarrassment. Of course it's a pick-up line and he wasn't asking me to call him.
Kane: But you should absolutely call me so I can ask you out over the phone. I'd like to hear that sweet voice.
"Oh my gosh," I whisper, my hands shaking when he immediately sends his number. I stare at it for a long time, my mind completely blank.
Kane: Shit. Too soon?
Me: No. I'm just nervous. Um, I've never done this before.
Kane: So I'm your first, huh? I like the sound of that.
Me: I don't date much.
Kane: That's good news for me. I promise not to bite.
My stomach flutters again. Though, I don't think it's nerves this time. The thought of him biting me is…sexy as hell, to be honest. There's something about being behind a screen that makes me feel bolder, braver.
Me: What if I want you to bite?
Kane: You like playing with fire, huh?
Me: Maybe.
Kane: Truth is, I've been thinking about sinking my teeth into that gorgeous body for longer than I should admit. Would you slap me if I told you that my dick is rock hard for you right now, sweet Maya?
Oh my gosh. I press the heel of my hand to my forehead, trying to cool myself down. It doesn't work. I feel like I'm on fire.
Me: No.
Kane: Good because it's true. Just so we're clear, I plan to fuck you. Repeatedly. But I'm not interested in a quick hookup. There's nothing quick about the things I'm going to do to you. And while I'm doing them, I plan to make you fall for me.
Oh, wow. I set my phone on the desk and pinch my arm, just to make sure I'm awake and not dreaming any of this. I'm not because it hurts like hell when I catch my skin between my fingers and squeeze. This is really happening right now. Kane Maxwell wants to sleep with me. He wants me to fall for him.
Kane: Call me, baby girl. Let me hear that beautiful voice.
I dial his number before I can talk myself out of it. My heart beats so loud I hear it better than I do the single ring.
"Maya," Kane says as soon as he answers. His voice is a velvety growl of sound that's entirely wicked. It reminds me of a big cat purring. Right before it pounces. "You called."
"You asked me to," I remind him.
"I know. I just wasn't sure if you would or not."
"Oh."
"I know you just met me five minutes ago, but I want you to go out with me tonight," he says, not wasting any time. I like it. He gets right to the point. "I'll keep my hands to myself if that's what you want, but I want to see you."
I hesitate, torn between throwing caution to the wind and saying yes, and telling him the truth and saying no. Come Monday, this man will be my professor. I should tell him that, right?