Sven’s Beard Series by Brenda Rothert – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Sven’s Beard Series by Brenda Rothert – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Mon, 04 Sep 2023 20:22:46 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Sven’s Beard Series by Brenda Rothert – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Mr. Ice Guy (Sven’s Beard #2) Read Online Brenda Rothert http://www.ilovenovels.com/mr-ice-guy-svens-beard-2-read-online-brenda-rothert Mon, 04 Sep 2023 20:22:46 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/mr-ice-guy-svens-beard-2-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Sven's Beard Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)

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Holt Sellers isn’t looking for love. A single dad, he retired from hockey and moved to his hometown of Sven’s Beard for a fresh start. He stays plenty busy coaching youth hockey, figuring out how to braid his daughter’s hair and learning how to cook. Problem is, the chef teaching him cooking basics is his longtime friend’s younger sister, who tests his resolve to stay single every time she turns her beautiful smile his way.
Shea Grady has a life. Honestly, she does. It just so happens that most of the hours in her days are spent working as the chef at The Sleepy Moose. She loves her work, and she adores her quirky northern hometown. Her ordered world is upended by the arrival of her childhood crush and his two children, who remind her she’s more than just a chef.

Holt tries to keep Shea at arm’s length, but when another man starts vying for her attention, he has to show her that no matter how messy and complicated love is…he’s all in.

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

CHAPTER ONE

Holt

“Was his beard really that long?” my son Spencer asked as he stared up at the massive statue of Sven Karlsson.

“Longer. It went all the way to his feet.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes skeptically. He was nine—old enough to know his dad was sometimes full of shit but still never entirely sure of when. I doubted Sven’s beard had ever been that long, but it was part of the legend, and as someone born and raised in the Beard, I knew better than to mess with the legend.

My six-year-old daughter Marley tentatively reached her fingertips up toward the flowing beard of the massive Viking statue.

“It brings good luck if you touch it?” she asked, looking to me for confirmation.

“Yep. That’s why the finish is all worn away on his beard. Because so many people have rubbed it for good luck.”

“I want good luck,” she said softly, brushing her hand over the statue’s beard.

If anyone deserved some luck on their side, it was my kids. Their lives had been upended in the past few months. Moving from Minneapolis to my small northern Minnesota hometown of Sven’s Beard would be a fresh start for all three of us.

It was May, and colorful flowers filled concrete planters and spilled out of wire planters on the decorative black light poles that lined Main Street. Some of the stores and restaurants I’d seen when we pulled into town ten minutes ago were familiar, and others were new to me.

I hadn’t come back to the Beard much in the last fourteen years. After being drafted right out of high school to play pro hockey, this place felt too small-time. When I found myself unexpectedly retiring at age thirty-two to raise my two kids on my own, though, I knew there was no better place.

This was home to me. And I hoped it would soon feel like home to my kids, too.

“Daddy, can I have a grilled cheese?” Marley asked me.

“Sure, peanut. We’ll go to The Corner Café and get some lunch.”

The movers were on their way, but we’d gotten here before them, so it was a perfect time to take a break before they got here. For now, they’d just be moving our stuff into storage, anyway.

“I want to go see our house first,” Spencer said.

“We’ll eat, go see Grandma and Grandpa and then go see the house.”

“Dad!” Spencer gave me an imploring look. “You said we could go see the house.”

“And we will.”

“I want to see my room.”

I ruffled his sandy brown hair. “It’s just plywood right now, kiddo. We’ll be living at The Sleepy Moose for a few months, remember?”

“I still want to see it.”

“You just saw the house three weeks ago,” I told Spence. “It hasn’t changed much. We’ll go see it later.”

“Look!” Marley cried, pointing across the street. “What’s that place, Daddy?”

She was gaping at a neat little white building with a walkway that looked like it was made of gold brick. The big display windows in the front showcased cupcakes and chocolates on tiered glass dishes.

“Sweets of Gold,” I said. “Looks like a little candy shop.”

“Let’s go, Mar!” Spence took his younger sister’s hand and ran to the edge of the sidewalk, where he paused to make sure there were no cars coming, telling Marley to remember to look both ways.

“Hey!” I called to them, checking to make sure there were no cars coming as they ran across the street to the little shop.

I shook my head and sighed. I couldn’t make up for all the time I’d missed in their younger years when I was focused primarily on hockey for nine months of every year. But I’d assumed when I became a single dad recently that at ages six and nine, they’d be good at listening and following directions.

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I’m Snow Into You (Sven’s Beard #1) Read Online Brenda Rothert http://www.ilovenovels.com/im-snow-into-you-svens-beard-1-read-online-brenda-rothert Wed, 17 May 2023 05:15:48 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/im-snow-into-you-svens-beard-1-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Contemporary, Funny, Suspense Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Sven's Beard Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)

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From bestselling author Brenda Rothert comes a spicy small town romance about a grumpy police chief and the feisty newcomer he can't stop clashing with...

Ever hear of Sven’s Beard, Minnesota?

Me either, until an inheritance from an uncle I never knew about brings me there. Expecting a windfall to support my dream of traveling the world, I instead get a weekly newspaper, complete with a crumbling building, a surly employee, and way too much interaction with the town’s bearded, grouchy lumberjack of a police chief.

My stay in the quirky northern town gets extended as I try to sell the newspaper and unravel truths about my family that leave me reeling. There’s no way I’m staying, despite the pull of the warm people in “the Beard”, and my hot nights with the gruff cop who drives me crazy in all the best ways.

While covering as the one and only reporter for the newspaper, I find myself following a trail that puts me in danger. Exposing the truth may help heal the man I’ve fallen for—if I don’t lose him in the process.

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

CHAPTER ONE

Avon

“Well, crap.”

I was not at my destination, though the Maps app on my phone said otherwise. While I was supposedly at an attorney’s office, the giant Viking I stood in front of couldn’t give me legal advice, what with him being a bronze statue and all.

Sven’s Beard, Minnesota: population 3,621. Temperature: frozen tundra. GPS accuracy: nonexistent.

The statue in front of City Hall had to be at least eight feet tall, wearing chain mail and a decorative breastplate on its torso. Beneath was a barely there loincloth, legs rippling with muscle and thick calves encased in tall boots. His helmet had horns and his beard flowed long and thick, reaching his waist. The midsection of the beard had been rubbed by so many hands it now shone a warm shade of gold, but the rest of the statue was still dark bronze.

“Need directions?”

The deep voice broke my trance and I jumped, turning toward the speaker. I craned my neck to see his face because while he wasn’t as tall as the statue, he stood well over six feet. He also had a beard, but his was dark, short, and neatly trimmed. His hair was also cropped short, and his eyes were a vibrant, mossy green. He was broad-chested—an absolute lumberjack of a manand he wore a police uniform.

Stunned silent, I openly stared at him. Surely there was a pile of wood somewhere in need of this man’s chopping skills.

“Ma’am?” he prodded.

I cleared my throat and smiled at him. “Hi, I’m looking for Max Morrison’s office.”

He glared for a split second and then pointed across the street. “Right over there. It’s the one with the arched windows.”

I immediately forgave my Maps app because maybe this run-in was fortuitous. Afterward, my agenda was wide open, and my flight home wasn’t until Monday. I wanted to keep the conversation going. Maybe the lumberjack could keep me warm tonight. Smart? No. But tempting, yes.

“Thanks. How did you know I’m not from around here?”

He shrugged. “Only out-of-towners stare at Sven, and you’re dressed like a tourist.”

His derisive tone made me glance down at my heels and wide-leg linen pants. My feet were absolutely freezing, and my lightweight trench coat wasn’t even close to keeping away the icy chill of the wind.

It was November in northern Minnesota. I’d known it would be colder than my home in San Diego, but admittedly, I hadn’t expected drifting snow and bitterly cold winds. I wasn’t giving this guy the satisfaction of admitting that, though.

“I’m only in town for a few days,” I said, trying to force my teeth to stop chattering. “For a business meeting. So I’m wearing business attire.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, I can see that. Get some boots, or you’ll end up with frostbite.”

“Wow, that’s so thoughtful of you,” I said with over-the-top sweetness.

“Just don’t want the local hospitals filling up with tourists who should’ve known better.” He sent another pointed glance at my footwear.

So much for my attraction to him.

“Okay, Officer—” I read the gold name bar pinned to the surly man’s uniform. “Grady, thanks for the hospitality. You’re quite the ambassador for Sven’s Beard.”

“Wasn’t trying to be an ambassador,” he said, scowling. “And it’s Chief Grady.”

“Well, Chief, you can get back to writing speeding tickets because I’m going to my meeting.”

“Fantastic,” he deadpanned.

It was a bad idea to flip off the police chief, so I put my hand in my coat pocket before extending my middle finger. What a jackass. He’d lost his chance at getting into the new Ho Ho Ho bikini-cut undies I was wearing, a gift from my best friend Blair.

Which was his loss because the Ho Ho Ho thing had nothing to do with Christmas.

“Wait, the what?” I asked Max Morrison a few minutes later.

“The Sven’s Beard Chronicle. It’s our town’s weekly newspaper.”

I sat back in my chair, a leather wingback that added to the vintage vibe of Max’s office. He was a Sam Waterston from Law and Order look-alike, and he had a massive oak desk and bookcases filled with leather-bound legal reference books. I’d taken time off work to fly here for the reading of the will of Peter Douglas, an uncle I never knew existed until getting a call from Max a few days ago. The word inheritance had gotten my immediate attention.

“A weekly newspaper?” I was taken aback. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

Max’s smile made the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Well, Pete filled it up with town news and ads every week. It’s very important to Sven’s Beard. That’s how we find out who’s getting married and what’s on the school lunch menu. And of course, who got arrested.”

So it was a business, like any other. I could sell it and add the revenue to my windfall. Not that I knew how much my windfall was, because I’d gone off on a mental tangent about the newspaper.

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