Adult Books For Women นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I turn around and take a look at those. "They don't feel the same anymore", I tell him. He immediately frowns in confusion. "So, you got bored with ROMANCE?" "No. But there's a reason", I say, leaning against the shelf and placing my palm over the books. Then I slowly trace my hand over them. "And the reason is—" he leans back too, a foot of distance between us but we can clearly hear each other whispering. "People who read romance, mostly women—" I giggle. "They want to escape reality. So, they can find more beautiful things in fiction"

“She’ll probably spend the whole holiday in here if you let her.” I walked the aisles slowly, trailing my fingers over the books. Classics. Thrillers. A whole section of contemporary romance—Mirabel’s doing, mostly. She’d started collecting them in high school, said they were “escapist but smart.” I’d never read them. Too many happy endings. Too much hope wrapped in pretty words. I pulled one down at random. Dark cover, brooding man in a suit, and title written in gold foil: Claimed by the Billionaire. I snorted softly, then slid it back.

The woman climbed a short ladder and began pulling down a few books. “These should help,” she said, setting five large, dusty tomes on a nearby table. “Sorry about the condition they’re ancient. Let me know if you need anything.” “Thank you,” Anna said as the woman walked away. Rhea and Anna sat cross-legged on the floor beside the table, surrounded by the stack of heavy books. Their covers were worn, their spines cracked, and the pages yellowed with time. Each had a unique title: 'Tales of the Mystical Creatures', 'Powers', 'Hidden Behind the Voice', and two others with faded letters too difficult to read.

The windows faced the gardens, and the morning light was golden and warm and poured across the reading chairs like honey. She ran her fingers along the spines. Classics, histories, business books that probably belonged to Alexander. Nothing that looked even remotely interesting. “Where do they keep the fun books?” She moved to a different shelf where the light didn't quite reach. There were older volumes here—paperbacks mixed with hardcovers, spines cracked from actual use instead of just decoration. “This is more like it.” She crouched down, scanning titles. A thriller, a mystery and finally a romance with a cover so embarrassingly dramatic she almost laughed out loud. She reached for it an

This she would do until she was ready for bed. Linda’s house was filled with books. Overburdened shelving units lined the walls, but they were unable to contain her collection. Books were stacked up all over the place, creating literary towers that she would weave through as if a labyrinth of knowledge. Books were Linda’s passion, and in them she found a portal to other realities. She could live other lives, be other people, have epic adventures and torrid romances and thrilling battles. To the outside world she was what her grandmother would have called a spinster, a forty-three year old woman who’d never been married and hadn’t even been on a date in the last ten years, no children and no

“They don’t like it when I say I’ve already been there.” “Hard to go somewhere you don’t believe in.” He mused. “True statement.” She agreed. “I pulled a few books for you. Don’t feel like you have to all of them. Or even any of them.” “I appreciate this. I’m not sure what to think about all of this.” “The woman? The feelings you have? Or the gifts she has?” Giving her a wry smile, he asked, “Do I have to pick just one?” “Absolutely not.” Ciara shuffled the books and pulled one out, handing it over. “This one is about ghosts. I also pulled a few about white covens.”

She huffs at us, rolling her eyes before pinning us with a firm stare. "Women write these books. You want to learn how to sweep a woman off her feet? There's your manual." She says, motioning towards the book in my lap. I look at the novel with a newfound respect before looking around the room. "Seriously?" I ask and the women all nod. "Oh yeah. I'd love for my husband to read some of these books. Maybe we could spice things up a little." A woman says and many others nod their heads in agreement. "Oh hell yes. Maybe get him to growl and call you a good girl." Another says with a giggle. My eyebrows shoot up in surprise and the younger girl looks at us with amusement.

Emma said, walking deep into the living room. "Thanks." She walked to a set of shelves on the far side of the room, running her fingers over the spines of his books. A lot of them were classics, novels by Dickens, Voltaire, Dumas, Melville, and Hemingway. She smiled when her fingers ran over the spine of not one, but three copies of Mitchell's Gone with the Wind. There were modern novels, too, including Stephen King and Sidney Sheldon, but they didn't look as well read as some of the others.

My hands skimmed the books stacked in the book shelves, and time ticked by painfully slow as I took Alpha Nolan's younger brother's advice and stayed inside the room. It had been over two hours since I slept and woke up on the white and gold bed, so I decided to take a look at all the books that were in the book shelves. The writing on the spines were mostly fading away, gathering dust as they had no use for the people who lived here. I admired some of the old classics and new books as my eyes wandered over every title. I had gathered a stack of books in my hand, picking the ones I wanted to read and taking them out. So far I had five books which were classics that I knew would peak my inter

"But that is the purpose of it. Books are designed to give you a wide sense of imagination. They were created so all of us can see beyond the physical world. I am not a good reader but I still can't stop myself from reading a lot of books about keeping calmness in my heart. If you ask me why I read those kinds of books, I will give you a lot of answers you would be pleased to hear." "I wish that was easy to actually do. I am more of a fan of historical books. I like reading about the dark ages and how medieval men lived their lives when the Catholic Church was killing millions of innocent people in the name of God." "So, you do read a lot?" The woman cut me quickly. "I didn't say I read a lo