Eleven years ago, Mason Dumpty stole my heart and made me fall for him. Then he left me bruised and broken. Now he’s the one who’s hurt and as trainer of the Boston Revs, it’s my job to help get the c…
I wear my emotions on my tattoo-covered sleeve, I say all the wrong things and I revel in pissing off a certain redhead far more than I should. In other words, I’m the last …
Things that stress out this widowed single mom: high fructose corn syrup, intrusive thoughts about my son getting swept up by a tornado, and the sexiest hockey player to grace this planet.
I’m a sucker for pretty things. Give me a roaring engine in a souped-up vintage muscle car with cherry red paint and brand-new leather interior, and that’s about as pretty as anything I could ask for.…
