Minnesota Mammoths Series by Brenda Rothert – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Minnesota Mammoths Series by Brenda Rothert – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Mon, 21 Apr 2025 22:20:30 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Minnesota Mammoths Series by Brenda Rothert – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Changed by You (Minnesota Mammoths #3) Read Online Brenda Rothert http://www.ilovenovels.com/changed-read-online-you-minnesota-mammoths-3-read-online-brenda-rothert Mon, 21 Apr 2025 22:20:30 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/changed-read-online-you-minnesota-mammoths-3-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Minnesota Mammoths Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 41935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 210(@200wpm)___ 168(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)

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I have one job during my hockey go on a reality dating show and create buzz for my team by having a romance with a beautiful actress who checks all my boxes.

Farrah Reed is an stunning, confident and poised. Even though this show isn’t as real as the producers want viewers to think, I move into the Malibu beach house hoping to leave with a famous fiancée I’m genuinely in love with.

But then I get to know Farrah’s assistant Alice. Alice is everything her demanding boss isn’ sweet, shy and humble. The more time I spend with her, the more I want her—and only her. But the producers and Farrah want an ending for the show that doesn’t include Alice. I’m left with two go along with what my team expects of me and hurt Alice, or risk everything for the woman I burn night and day for.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

one

Alice

“Are you serious? This room is the size of my closet at my beach house. And my closet has more windows,” my boss Farrah, says cringing dramatically as she looks around the space.

It’s a beautiful room decorated in white with pops of pale yellow. The queen bed is layered with pillows and a crisp, bright-white duvet. A few framed vintage travel posters for coastal California are perfectly lined up on the walls.

“Check out that view, though.” I walk over and open the doors that lead onto a small balcony with two chairs and a tiny table, letting in the sound of the crashing waves.

She sighs, unimpressed. “Yeah, it’s nice. And I guess I won’t be in here much, anyway. I’ll be too busy with JP.”

“Exactly.” I side-eye the room’s small closet. “Which clothes are most important for the next few days? I’ll unpack what you’ll need and store the rest of the luggage in my room.”

Not that I have any extra space. The producers of Celebrity Love Malibu, the show Farrah is about to start filming here, balked when her agent told them she’d need a room for her personal assistant. The other fifteen celebrities on the show will all manage the five-week stay here without someone to bring them Starbucks and puree fresh fruit face masks, but not Farrah. And since it’s a sixteen-bedroom house and there are sixteen contestants, the producers had to squeeze me into the house’s staff quarters by moving a chef’s assistant to a hotel. My room is roughly the size of a postage stamp and it smells like fish.

“I don’t know yet.” Farrah shrugs. “The producers said they want their wardrobe people to dress me, but I’m thinking no. I’ll probably need Cara.”

My brows fly up in alarm. “Cara? Have you talked to her about it?”

Farrah laughs. “Of course not, that’s your job.”

I suppress a sigh and start typing out a text to Cara, a boutique owner who has been helping choose and order clothes for Farrah for more than a year. She’s in demand and her schedule is always booked, but Farrah expects her to be available anytime.

This is my own fault. I know how Farrah is about clothes. I should have asked her about it when she signed the contract to do the show.

“I’m starving,” Farrah says, sitting down on the bed to look at her phone. “Can you get me some tuna sushi? And a lavender water?”

“Of course. I’ll go right now.” I duck out of the room as quickly as I can, eager for a break.

Some people think actors hardly work, but the ones at the top of their game, like Farrah, work very hard. She starts her days at sunrise with yoga and meditation, which she insists I do with her. Then, a small breakfast and a ninety-minute workout. Those things are nonnegotiable unless she’s filming and the director can’t accommodate it.

When she’s not filming, her schedule is still full. She’s developing a line of cosmetics, and she has meetings for that and all sorts of other things, lunches and dinners with friends, and parties.

So freaking many parties. I’m an introvert and I hate everything about them. The cackling. The frivolity. The phoniness. Farrah rarely asks me to go to those with her because she doesn’t want to seem high maintenance.

Those are the evenings I recharge in bed with a book or catch up on her emails. Working for Farrah is demanding. We tried splitting it into two jobs--both of which were still a lot--but she complained so much about the other assistants that after going through several, she offered to triple my salary to work for her basically around the clock.

It’s not as bad as it sounds. When she’s filming, she’s sometimes occupied for sixteen hours a day or more, and I can pretty much do what I want as long as she can reach me by text. And it’s worth it to make the money I do at age twenty-six.

“Hey...Farrah’s assistant, right?” A middle-aged man with a baseball hat and a beard stops me as I’m about to walk out the beach house’s front door.

“Alice. Yes.”

“Can you ask her to meet us in the library for a production meeting at two?”

The what? Did he just say there’s a library here? Is this heaven masquerading as a beach house?

“Sure can.” I smile and wave at him, texting Farrah on my walk to the car.

Occasionally Farrah likes to ride places with me, even though she has a driver. She needs to wear a hat and glasses to disguise herself when we go, but she still likes to get out. That’s why I always get a rental she’d enjoy, and this time, I went with a white convertible Bronco.

I had to park more than a quarter of a mile from the house because of the show’s filming and security zones, but the walk to the car is nice on this bright June day.

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Drawn to You (Minnesota Mammoths #2) Read Online Brenda Rothert http://www.ilovenovels.com/drawn-to-you-minnesota-mammoths-2-read-online-brenda-rothert Sat, 05 Oct 2024 02:31:31 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/drawn-to-you-minnesota-mammoths-2-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Sports Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Minnesota Mammoths Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)

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I have one keep an out-of-control playboy hockey player in line for the remainder of his team’s season. But my plan is blown to bits when Dane pucking Foster starts to blur the thin line between love and hate.

Dane is hell on skates. He’s one of the best in pro hockey, but he parties as hard as he plays, and his team owner is fed up with his PR disasters. When my firm assigns me to be Dane's full-time handler, I take the job and cross my fingers that I'll finally get promoted beyond lowly junior publicist.

The job's even worse than I expected. Dane is brash and obnoxious. Not remotely my type. We argue over everything while we're practically glued together thanks to his team’s rigorous travel schedule. But before long, our contempt starts to turn into something even more powerful than desire.

It’s need. And giving into it will come at a steep price.

This book was previously published in Vella as Dane Pucking Foster.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

Josie

I thought eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch every day at work was the worst.

It’s not.

Running out of jelly and bread before payday and eating a peanut butter sandwich made with the two heels of the bread loaf—that’s actually the worst.

“That looks disgusting, Josie,” my coworker Monica says as she unwraps the deli sandwich she had delivered from DoorDash.

“It’s not bad,” I lie, reaching for my water bottle to wash down the stale bread.

Monica is twenty-three and still lives at home. She doesn’t know what it’s like to be so broke you put five dollars’ worth of gas at a time in your car because it’s all you can afford.

I smile to myself because that’s the one upside of my car getting repossessed last week: no more paying for gas. But now I have to pay for bus rides to work, which costs more than gas.

FML. I thought by age twenty-seven, I’d be a senior publicist at JG Publicity, getting my hair and nails done on my Friday lunch breaks to prepare for a weekend of barhopping in downtown Minneapolis.

Instead, I spent the first half of my lunch break listening to horrible on-hold music for the electric company before begging them to give me another week to pay my bill, leaving the rest of my break free for my dry sandwich and clueless coworker.

“Eww, I told them no tomato,” she says, grimacing at her sandwich. “They mess my order up every time, I swear to God.”

I lock eyes with Linda, one of the secretaries. She’s a single mom of four who also has no tolerance for Monica’s nonstop complaining.

“You want an apple?” Linda offers, taking one from her lunch bag.

“I’m good, thanks.”

It’s true what they say about people who have the least being the most generous. Linda knows I struggle, and she checks on me to make sure I’m okay.

I’m not okay, but I’m hanging in there. Making payments on a ten-thousand-dollar health insurance deductible for an unexpected gall bladder removal surgery eight months ago has put a major strain on my already meager finances. Those monthly five hundred- and fifty-dollar payments are the reason I’m waiting tables on weekends and clipping coupons.

Good thing I’m in line for a promotion. If I get it, the salary increase will change my life.

Convincing my boss to promote me, though? That’s another story.

“Excellent font choices, Monica,” Jane Garver says during our two p.m. group meeting. “The client wants to see a full presentation. I’ll expect it to be ready by Monday afternoon.”

“Absolutely,” Monica says.

“Josie, did you steal that shirt from a homeless person?” Jane asks me, wrinkling her nose.

Or should I say, Aunt Jane. Having my aunt as a boss is worse than eating dry peanut butter sandwiches for every meal.

Monica cackles like the ass-kisser she is, and I smile tightly. My plain short-sleeved gray shirt may not have a designer label on it, but it’s perfectly fine.

“I’m not seeing clients today, so I decided to dress down a bit.”

Jane scoffs. “You’ll need to go home and change before our four o’clock meeting.”

“What meeting?”

She waves a hand. “I’ll fill you in before. It’s a job for a high-profile client, and you’re perfect for it.”

I straighten in my chair, taken aback. Perfect for it? Aunt Jane has never, since meeting me within a minute of my birth, thought I was perfect for anything.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard that Marnie is leaving us,” Jane says crisply. “That creates an opening for a senior publicist. Junior publicists, show me your best work in the coming weeks and help make my decision easier.”

Jane was so offended by Marnie’s resignation that she told her not to even work out a two-week notice. She takes it personally when someone quits.

This job for a high-profile client is my chance to prove myself. I’ve worked here for five years, starting straight out of college as an intern. I like my job, and I want to stay here.

Publicists get to make people shine. Sometimes, we come in for damage control, helping clients rebuild their images. I like being part of a team that consists of me and my client.

I also like paying my electric bill on time and having a professional cut my hair instead of doing it myself.

Which means I have to get that promotion.

“Wait. What?” I gape at my boss a couple of hours later after finding out what my special assignment is.

“You’ll be his...handler,” Jane says brightly. “It couldn’t be an easier job, really. You just watch over him and make sure he’s not getting into trouble.”

Arnold Morgan, owner of the Minnesota Mammoths pro hockey team, grins at Jane.

“I can’t thank you enough for this, Jane. Bill me whatever rate you think is reasonable. And if she can keep him out of trouble for the whole three months, there’ll be a considerable bonus.”

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Lost in You (Minnesota Mammoths #1) Read Online Brenda Rothert http://www.ilovenovels.com/lost-in-you-minnesota-mammoths-1-read-online-brenda-rothert Sat, 31 Aug 2024 08:13:59 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/lost-in-you-minnesota-mammoths-1-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Alpha Male, Sports Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Minnesota Mammoths Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)

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I’ve got one job: protect the younger sister of my best friend and team captain. Then our private plane crashes in southern Alaska, and we’re the lone survivors.

The two of us are the unlikeliest of partners when we find ourselves stranded in the unforgiving Alaskan wilderness. My hockey playing skills are of no use here, where the bitter cold is my new opponent. And Trinity Lorenzo? She’s about as warm as a block of ice. I get it, she’s fleeing an abusive boyfriend and she and I are strangers. But I always keep my word, and I promised Dalton I’d keep his prickly sister safe. If we want to live, the two of us will have to find a way to get along and work together.
Our ordeal draws Trinity and me closer, and fighting the pull between us becomes harder than anything we face while hoping for rescue. Whether we make it out or not, I need her. More than water or shelter—more than anything. Dalton will never forgive me if I cross the line with her, but surviving means something different now. Surviving means making her mine.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

Trinity

“And influencer samples will be mailed by Friday?” Meeting with my team virtually via Zoom, I look up from my checklist. When I’m met by silence, I prompt, “Kelsie?”

“Yes.” She smiles brightly. “Sorry, I just got the preprinted notecards that I’m putting in the boxes today and I paused when you asked because the order was short, but I can go to a print shop and get more made next week.”

“Okay, what else?”

We’re twenty-three days from the launch of Allura, the first drugstore line for Kiss My Sass, the cosmetics company I work for. And as a vice president of Allura’s marketing department, I’m in charge of the team planning the launch. It wasn’t a great time to take a couple of days away from the office to come see my older brother’s pro hockey exhibition game in Fairbanks, Alaska, but here I am. Zooming from a gloomy hotel room.

As my team members detail the status of launch preparations, I glance between their faces on my laptop screen and the door to my hotel room. I know Ronan, the guy I went on two dates with a few months ago, isn’t going to charge into the room because he doesn’t have a key. Still, he figured out I was coming here and followed me. I’m panicking inside about what else he’s capable of.

“Legal is still negotiating the Ella London deal,” Jack says. “She wants more money.”

“Dammit.” His comment brings my mind back to the meeting. “What about all the videos we already had produced with her?”

“Hopefully we’ll be able to use them. But legal says for now, we can’t use her name, her likeness or any materials with her in them.”

My heart pounds and I get the buzzing sensation in my head my anxiety always brings on. Ella London is an actress and model who’s the backbone of Allura’s marketing. Without her, we’re screwed.

“When will this be resolved?” I ask Jack.

“I’ve tried to pin legal down, but⁠—”

The sound of my hotel room door’s lock clicking open makes my pulse pound nervously. It’s not Ronan, but still...I can’t stop fearing it might be until the door is pushed open and I see my brother Dalton walking inside.

And from his expression, I can tell he’s pissed.

“Why aren’t you at the police station like I told you?”

I glare at him. “I’m in the middle of a meeting.”

In four seconds flat, he’s already stomped all the way across my hotel room, where he looks at my computer screen and barks, “She’ll call you back,” before shutting it.

“Dalton! I’m their boss! That was so unprofessional.” Dalton is a pro hockey player who intimidates people for a living, but I don’t take shit like this from him.

He scowls down at me, hands on his hips. “Why the fuck am I just finding out some asshole is stalking you? How long has this been going on?”

I sigh heavily, the buzzing sensation returning. “I went on two dates with him in October. He’s been calling and texting since. He’s shown up at my apartment a few times. But nothing like this has happened before.”

I don’t tell my brother that Ronan has probably been looking for me at my apartment a lot more than I’m aware of because I often sleep on the couch in my downtown Chicago office. The building security there is tight.

“So tell me what happened. Did he come up to you at the game, or did you just happen to see him?”

“I saw him walking toward me, waving like we knew each other. But the usher stopped him because I was in the VIP section. And then I told an usher what was going on and they had someone from security get me to a cab after the game so I could get back here.”

My brother’s eyes are blazing with fury. “I told you to go to the police station. What the hell were you thinking coming back here by yourself when some psycho is after you?”

My face is hot and I’m suddenly sweaty. Dalton is making this stressful situation even worse.

“I had a meeting.” I reach for the bottle of medication in my bag, my hands trembling as I open the bottle.

He looks up at the ceiling. “You had a meeting.” When he looks at me again, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are the most incredible combination of smart and stupid I’ve ever known.”

“I flew seven fucking hours to watch your game in a place where it gets dark before four p.m. Don’t be an asshole. I have a launch in twenty-three days and that might not mean anything to you, but it means everything to me. I’m incredibly busy at work right now.”

He puts a palm out. “You’re right, I’m sorry. But Trin, this guy following you from Chicago to fucking Alaska has me on edge. If I could find him right now, I’d probably kill him.”

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