Best Mystery Romance Books Novels & Stories

I sat beside her, and she immediately stretched her legs back out, her feet landing in my lap. "What are you reading?" She held up the book without looking away from the page. "A mystery novel. A detective in Victorian London." I caught sight of the cover. A woman in a low-cut dress leaned against a man in a top hat, their faces inches apart in the fog. The Scarlet Letter Murders. I grabbed the book from her hands. "Hey!" She sat up, reaching for it. I flipped through a few pages. My eyes landed on a passage. His mouth found the hollow of her throat as his fingers worked the laces of her corset…

"A... used one?" "A romantic mystery," you said, showing her the front. "It's from the seventies, and is about a female detective who gets involved with the man who hires her to investigate his wife's murder. I'm hoping it's got Castle vibes." She broke into a smile, taking the book from you and turning it over in her hands. Then she kissed you again, on her tiptoes. "Has anyone told you that you're the sweetest?" she asked. "Not today," you smiled.

His skin was hotter than any fire, the eyes that gazed down at her brighter than any flame, there was nowhere they did not touch. His fingers twisted in her hair, turning her face up to his. Then his mouth was on hers, a fevered caress that tasted of a tortuous hunger that was strangely thrilling. Warm breath filled her throat…. His breath. Never in her life had she dreamed a kiss could be like this. When his tongue danced against hers, a swirling foray, she felt utterly boneless. She would surely have fallen were it not for the hardness of his arms braced around her back. She was only dimly aware of being carried to the bed. Firelight flickered over his features as he propped himself on an

He asked. “hymes? Yeah, sure.” She replied sarcastically. Charlie was surprised when the put on a whole playlist of hymes which kept on playing till they got to the restaurant. Mr. black was such a strange being she thought. From his love for black gloves to the colour pink and now hymes? This guy didn’t stop fascinating her . He was like a book, but one that wasn’t boring. The type that she’d stay awake all night reading. Finally, the car came to a stop.

And now they're trapped together in a territory with a killer, compelled rogues, and blood magic. At least, Hope thinks grimly, the murder mystery will distract from the awkward romantic tension. Then she sees the body, and all thoughts of distraction vanish. The female wolf lies in a clearing, her throat torn open in a precise, surgical strike. But that's not what makes Hope's blood run cold. It's the symbol carved into the ground around her. A circle within a circle, ancient runes Hope doesn't recognize surrounding the body like a cage. "That's a summoning circle," Dante says quietly. "Blood magic used to call something. Something powerful and dangerous."

“Nah. I don’t think so. Knowing you, you’d probably enjoy that a little too much.” I scoffed. Just who did he think I was? A masochist? His hand fingered the tie of my robe again. “I’m going to do something even naughtier.” With a single move, he pulled and my robe came loose, exposing me to his gaze. He licked his lips as his eyes raked down my body to my hard cock that was now jutting out between us. “Something that will surely make you lose your mind.” I shivered. And no, it wasn’t from the cold. It wasn’t even from the heat in his gaze. It was from the underlying promise I could hear in those words. I might not know a lot about Asher but I knew he always kept his word.

Braxton was right. There was something about this mystery woman that I couldn't quite place my finger on. I took in her almond green eyes, framed by thick coal-black lashes, and they were mesmerizing the very second they had met my gaze, and it had felt like every ounce of blood in my body had rushed to my cock. Lust had blasted through me with an alarming force, leaving me a little shaken. Something that had never happened before.

It was so pathetic it almost made me laugh. Once I had a lead, everything else came easily. Using Milton's birthday, his lucky number, and even a work ID he had once used, I pieced everything together. After an hour, I managed to find his secret social media account. His profile picture was a close-up of his hands on a steering wheel, and his profile name was a combination of his and that woman's birthdays. The most recent post was chilling. [A buried rose will one day be lifted by the spring rain and bloom again. My love, the source of my longing—she has been waiting for me all along.]

“This isn’t a romance novel, Lila. It’s my life. And I don’t want sparks with him. I want him to leave me alone.” But deep down, a small, traitorous part of her wasn’t so sure. Meanwhile, Damien stared out at the skyline from his office, a glass of scotch in hand though the sun was barely past noon. Grace Monroe was dangerous not because she could ruin him, but because she could distract him. And Damien Blackwood didn’t allow distractions. Yet for the first time in years, he didn’t feel like a man in control. He felt like a man on the edge of something he couldn’t quite name.

I was standing still in between these two men and I could feel the temperature in the room increase. “Lorenzo,” Author’s Note:- Hey guys, do leave your comments below and like the book. Do follow me if you haven’t. Love you all, Take care.