Showing results by narrator "Neva Nevarre" in All Categories

Did you know that during a pyrotechnic display, a single firework travels 481 feet per second and can take out a small village? Did you know it can also singe the ball hair off of any man standing within a mile radius of said-pyrotechnic display (and singed ball hair smells a lot like a sh*t-filled baby diaper that's been lit on fire), and it can make a vintage wedding dress go up in flames like a barn full of dry hay?

The pitchforks are out again. Shocker, I know. This time, it’s not just the paparazzi or trolls on social media. Sigh. It’s my ex. And my dad. And even my new limo driver, Enrique. But wait a minute, what's this? Enrique is a total hottie—with eyes black as sin, swagger for days, and dimples that could melt a girl's heart. And...he hates me.

Ignacio: That girl everyone saw me fake kissing is not my girlfriend. Somehow, a small favor turns into a recipe for disaster, and the only way to fix it is to add a little spice, let it simmer, and serve it hot. We might be cooking up a fake relationship, but even pretend kissing Olive is muy delicioso.