Elise Faber Books

The white dress.The diamond ring.The full church.The . . . missing groom.Molly Miller had become a cliché when Jackson Davis left her at the altar, but she'd crawled back from the heartbreak and embarrassment and was living her dream of running a successful eatery in San Francisco.Well, good riddance. She didn't need Jackson, or any other man in her life. She had Molly's, her restaurant, she had her customers, and she finally had found some happy.Who cared that she had unanswered questions as to why Jackson had left? It didn't matter. He'd gone and that was that. Moving on, grinding out one day in front of another, baking her way through her emotions and generally moving on with her life.Until . . . one early morning Jackson walked through the front door of her restaurant.And her whole world imploded

My life was boring until I met him.Painfully tedious, pathetically lonely, and I absolutely hated it.But I was too scared to do anything about it. Too scared to change . . . at least until I met Kace.I should have been terrified of him-scared of his size (he towered over my short, curvy self), freaked out by the fierce tats covering his arms and torso (they even crawled up his neck), and definitely frightened by the angry scowl he unleashed on anyone who dared to disrupt him (though this happened rarely, it still did happen).Except, Kace seemed to like me-shy, boring, socially inept me. He couldn't change the tats or the towering, but he rarely unleashed his trademark scowl on me.Okay, so maybe it was more like he tolerated me, but regardless, Kace didn't seem to care that I hung around the bar he worked at, putting my night owl tendencies to work as I wrote.See, my work was the only place I explored. My safe place to write as dirty and steamy and kinky of books as I wanted.My readers loved them-loved the hot sex, the tough alphas, the guaranteed happy endings. As thus, I made good money, only somewhat because I was a decent writer, but mostly because my imagination was very active, beyond active . . . some might even say too active.As for me personally? I'd never experienced anything close to the types of things I wrote.But I'd decided it was time to change that.With scowly, sexy, terrifying Kace.

Everyone thought I had it together. That I was tough and powerful and a take-no-prisoners woman at the top of my industry.And I was. At work.I always sealed the deal, nabbed the contract, and I never failed to get someone to sign on the dotted line. At work, I was the best.My personal life, however, was a wreck. A giant, lonely wreck.Until, Cole.Cole was about as far away from my city girl polish as one could get. A retired hockey player, he wore jeans to my power suits, cowboy boots to my heels, ate simple food to my gourmet. Hell, he even lived on a ranch half the year.And yet . . . he also challenged my mind. Never gave me an inch. Not to mention, he was gorgeous, kind, incredibly insightful and always, always, called me on my B.S. He'd done it when I'd been his agent, and continued to do it every time we talked.He was everything I'd dreamed of . . . and also, everything I was terrified to have.*This book was previously published under the title, Bitch*

clusterf*@k noun A mismanaged and chaotic situation A complexly muddled mess A disordered and hectic condition Misty Hansen's life Lonely. Alone. By herself. The top three ways Misty had to describe herself-and it was no coincidence they all meant the same thing. She was single, almost pathetically so. It had been so long since she'd been with a man, she wasn't sure she could even remember what it was like. Hell, dust might float out if she took off her pants in the presence of the opposite sex. She was also well aware that she was lucky to have a place to live, a great brother, and awesome friends. She should just be content. But then she crashed into Chance-literally crashed-into the gorgeous man's SUV, totaling it, and managing to cause damage to her brother's house, all in one fell swoop. It was a total clusterf*@k. Because then the man ended up totaling her heart.

I hated him.From the moment I walked into Tig's Tattoo and Piercing I'd hated him.Garret was beautiful-because that was the way that fate worked and also because if I'd had anything in my life, it was bad luck. Still, with his derisive green eyes, tats peeking out from beneath the edges of his sleeves, and the scruff on his jaw, he was the sexiest man I'd ever seen in my life.He also seemed to delight in disrupting my life.I was there to fix a few pipes; he was there as a guest artist. I was there to do a job, he seemed to take pleasure in upsetting mine.I was a grown up.He was a tattooed troublemaker.This was not going to end well.Tattooed Troublemaker is a standalone story inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward's (Stuck-Up Suit). It's published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward's New York Times bestselling series.

Once upon a time she'd had the happy ending.The doting fiancé.The expensive wedding.The happily-ever-after resting just at the tips of her fingers.Then in an explosion of glass, in a splintering of metal, everything had been taken from her.She'd shattered herself, had broken into a million tiny pieces.But eventually, she'd patched herself together, had hauled herself back into life, had built something she was content in. Content, but not happy. Never quite inching into happy again.Still, she had her friends, her job as a skating coach for the Gold, and she had her life. That was enough.And it had been enough.Until he knocked on her door.Until he came back and changed everything.

Calle Stevens wasn't what one would call a risk-taker.She was steady. She was even. She was . . .Pregnant.Oh God. How was she pregnant? Well, she knew the how part, but that wasn't the point. Mistakes happened, condoms failed, birth control pills didn't work, and . . . she was pregnant by a man who'd broken up with her via text and then readily offered to sign away his parental rights when she'd told him she was keeping the baby.Her life was ruined.She'd just been hired as an assistant coach for the professional hockey team, the San Francisco Gold. She didn't have any family in the area, didn't have a partner. How was she going to have a baby?But then Cooper.A star player for the team, he'd found out about the baby and had insisted on coming with her to her first appointment, then had held her hair back when she'd spent the majority of her time christening the porcelain goddess before coming to the second, and then the third, and the fourth and-In fact, as much as she tried to push him away, he refused to keep his distance. And then when she was having a particularly weak moment, feeling fat and gross and completely unappealing, he held her like she was precious and . . . he kissed her.Then didn't stop.Calle didn't know what was scarier, the kiss or that she didn't want him to stop either.

I'd wanted her from the first moment I'd seen her.But Billie Rose hadn't liked me. Not that I could blame her-I'd just been another of the annoying hockey players seemingly out to ruin her town. Thankfully, I'd finally gotten her to see me. To want me. But Billie was the most together person I'd ever met, and she regularly took on fixer-uppers of both the human and inanimate variety. I didn't want her to see me as a project. I wanted her to see me as me. As the man she wanted. As the man she loved. *This is book 2 in Joel and Billie Rose's story