Книги, похожие на «Liz Tipping, Don't You Forget About Me»

His fairytale in New York Manhattan boss Quinn doesn’t believe in love. He’s the kind of man a girl’s mother warns her about – the devil in disguise! But since Quinn hired Clare O’Connor the funniest thing has happened. He has less control over his heart. She’s become more than just his beautiful, ultra-efficient secretary – Clare’s rocked him to the core…The billionaire playboy is in a fix. His route to romance has always been easy. But now a real gem is involved. He has to tread softly. And, if he does, the way will be paved with diamonds…

Commitment. You’ve taken the first Big Step: Marriage. So what comes next? The Mortgage? The Career Choice? Even….The Baby? Does one thing really lead to another?Flin and his friends are facing new commitments, and life is certainly not going as predicted, or as expected.Flin abandons the city whirl for a low key job in the country and the idyllic lifestyle – or is it? Ben has it all: the high flying career, ideal home and perfect family – but what happened to the fun and excitement? And Harry seems destined to become the eternal bachelor. Bored with the line-up of suitable girls, he yearns for his first love, glimpsed across a crowded room.Jamie Holland’s uncannily accurate portrayal of contemporary life is infused with warmth, humour and even optimism. An Almost Perfect Moon is a more than perfect summer read.

Family begins with a capital eff.I’m wondering how many more f*cking ‘phases’ I have to endure before my children become civilised and functioning members of society? It seems like people have been telling me ‘it’s just a phase!’ for the last fifteen bloody years. Not sleeping through the night is ‘just a phase.’ Potty training and the associated accidents ‘is just a phase’. The tantrums of the terrible twos are ‘just a phase’. The picky eating, the back chat, the obsessions. The toddler refusals to nap, the teenage inability to leave their beds before 1pm without a rocket being put up their arse. The endless singing of Frozen songs, the dabbing, the weeks where apparently making them wear pants was akin to child torture. All ‘just phases!’ When do the ‘phases’ end though? WHEN? Mummy dreams of a quirky rural cottage with roses around the door and chatty chickens in the garden. Life, as ever, is not going quite as she planned. Paxo, Oxo and Bisto turn out to be highly rambunctious, rather than merely chatty, and the roses have jaggy thorns. Her precious moppets are now giant teenagers, and instead of wittering at her about who would win in a fight – a dragon badger or a ninja horse – they are Snapchatting the night away, stropping around the tiny cottage and communicating mainly in grunts – except when they are demanding Ellen provides taxi services in the small hours. And there is never, but never, any milk in the house. At least the one thing they can all agree on is that rescued Barry the Wolfdog may indeed be The Ugliest Dog in the World, but he is also the loveliest.