Best Horror Romance Novels Novels & Stories

»»————————«« Author's note: This novel explores dark romance themes and contains intense content. It includes scenes involving sexual violence and abuse. If these subjects are triggers for you, please be aware that this book may not be suitable. While I've taken care to respect the characters' boundaries, your own sensitivities are paramount. Please consider this before delving into the story. Your well-being is important. Marco Costello isn't your typical hero, and this love story isn't always smooth sailing. If you're all about safe, good-guy heroes in your romances, this might not be your cup of tea.

Trigger Warnings For This Book: This is a dark werewolf romance containing Violence, abuse, rape, betrayal, trouble in paradise, drugs, murder, assault, bondage, and a Reverse harem involving scenarios of b×g, b×b raw sex scenes, and slavery. ********************************* "Oh, fuck, Beta,' she moaned. "Go harder, I've been waiting for this, I can't believe you are my mate." She seductively said, biting her lower lip, holding her two breasts, fingering them, and seemed lost, her eyes kept opening and closing in lust.

I was going to be sick. All those romance novels she loved, the ones where the heroine hastily fell in love with some dangerous man who had a dark past, suddenly weren’t very sexy when it was real. When the danger wasn't metaphorical. When the blood he had on his hands wasn’t just a metaphor. I’d seen him shatter bones the night before. Saw him break another man’s leg, without a second thought. And the worst of it, what had my stomach turning with something I didn’t want to be calling revulsion, was that I wasn’t disgusted.

​She hit the search button, half hoping to find hidden scientific articles, government conspiracies, or at least news about a rare genetic disorder that caused sufferers to grow excessive hair and howl at the full moon. ​However, her search results were instead flooded with rows of digital book covers featuring shirtless, muscular men and fragile-looking women under the moonlight. ​They all pointed to links for online romance novels. ​Nichole scrolled down her screen, reading the titles inwardly with her eyebrows knitting closer together. ​"Bride for the Alpha" ​"The Wolf CEO's Human Mate" ​"Rejected by the Cruel Alpha" ​"Entangled in the Possessive Lycan's Forbidden Love"

Lena trembled in my arms, her body limp, her breath shaky. Mine. My fingers trailed along her spine, slow, possessive. "That wasn’t so hard, was it?" I murmured. She didn’t answer. Didn’t fight me. She couldn’t. I turned her in my arms, tilting her chin up so she had no choice but to look at me. Her eyes were distant, glazed over with the horror of what she had done. But there was something else there too. Something dark. Something that would grow. I grinned. I brushed my lips over hers—not quite a kiss, more of a claim.

Evelyn accidentally discovered something while visiting Adrian’s apartment. A notebook. Filled with observations. Pages and pages of them. About her. Evelyn likes tea but drinks coffee when stressed. Evelyn listens to music late at night. Evelyn touches her necklace when she’s nervous. Evelyn laughs when she feels uncomfortable. Her hands began to shake. Adrian walked into the room. “You read it.” Evelyn looked at him in disbelief. “You’ve been studying me.” “Observing,” he corrected. “That’s the same thing!”

The next second, the Patchwork Monster tore the man in half. He tossed the body outside casually. Just then, a crisp, bell-like voice sounded outside. “It’s after work hours, who’s so rude as to be throwing bodies around?” A young girl with three heads and eight arms appeared at the doorway. With just one look at the shop, anger filled her voice, and her hair stood on end. “Who the hell had a death wish and smashed the Number One Must-Eat shop in the entire horror game?”

“We forgot we have a virgin saint among us.” I stepped back, voice steady despite my racing pulse. “Have you all forgotten that relationships between werewolves and humans are forbidden?” “Pipe down,” someone laughed. “Times have changed. We can sleep with them — just don’t get pregnant. That’s the only real trouble.” The conversation spiraled. “I heard he’s incredible in bed…” “I bet he has a huge cock…” “You can hear the proof if you walk past his chambers at night.” Their giggles filled the corridor. I shook my head and grabbed my basket, hurrying away before I had to listen to any more.

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I am as exciting and predictable as a loaf of sliced white bread. Anyway, back to my story. The traffic started moving, and off he went, leaving behind the lingering scent of tobacco. At work, I had trouble concentrating, and spent most of the day creating racy vignettes in my head with us as the feature characters. Let's be honest; I have a very vivid imagination. The closest I've been to a hot steamy encounter is courtesy of the pages of my endless supply of paperback romance novels. I'm not the kind of girl that attracts hot, sexy men. In fact, I've been called an ice queen by more than one guy. But when I'm in the middle of one of my books, I am sensual, daring, sarcastically humorous, a