Best Rom-com Novels

He looks at me like he already knows the truth I’ve spent a lifetime hiding. Ethan Vance—lawman, predator, believer in a system I learned to outthink before I could drink wine. His eyes don’t burn with hate. They study, measure, almost… understand. They call him incorruptible. Maybe he is. But I’ve seen incorruptible men fall, not to money or power, but to fascination. The kind that crawls under your skin and makes you wonder if the person chasing you might be the only one who truly sees you. He hunts me by the book. I survive by rewriting it. But somewhere between the pursuit and the silence, between his questions and my lies, the line blurred. And now, I can’t decide which is more dangerous, losing to him, or wanting him to catch me. --- He isn’t what I expected. Luca Vitale walks into every room like he owns it, and maybe he does. Calm. Calculated. Dangerous in ways that don’t show up on a rap sheet. He should be just another target, another name I take down and file away. But there’s something about the way he looks at me. Like he already knows I’m not as untouchable as I pretend to be. I tell myself it’s strategy, curiosity, control. It’s not. It’s a problem. Because every time I think I’m closing in, I realise he’s already two steps ahead—and for the first time in my career, I’m not sure if I’m hunting him, or if he’s letting me try.

When my best friend and I realized we had been reborn and traveled back several decades, we locked eyes, collapsed into each other's arms, and sobbed, shouting that we wanted to break off our engagements. The entire neighborhood whispered that we had lost our minds. But only we knew the truth. In our past lives, this was the day everything was sealed: she married a battalion commander, Ned Stark, and I became the wife of a high school teacher, Robbie Stark. My husband betrayed me. For the sake of that pretentious whore, Scarlett Wheaton, he stole my university admission letter and let her take my place on campus. The world mocked me as a failure, and Robbie stood by in silence. After we married, every time he touched me, he would immediately write another love letter to Scarlett—atoning for his supposed guilt. "Scarlett, even if I can't be with you in this life, my soul will always belong to you alone." Even my own child despised me, calling me an ignorant village woman, urging me again and again to divorce so that his father could be with his "true love," Scarlett. And my best friend, Rachel Croft—born the daughter of a factory director—was tricked by her husband, Ned, under the pretense of buying a house. He drained her savings and her wages for twenty long years. It wasn't until she fell gravely ill and went to sell the house that she discovered the deed he had given her was a forgery. The real house—the one paid in full—was in Scarlett's name. One of Scarlett's dresses cost more than my friend's entire monthly salary. When Rachel begged to reclaim what rightfully belonged to her, she was met only with contempt from Ned and her child. "All you ever care about is money. You're nothing like Scarlett, who isn't materialistic at all. Your illness is retribution," Ned had said. "Exactly. Only someone as noble and kind as Scarlett deserves to be my mother!" her child had said. Rachel and I both spent our lives working ourselves to the bone, only to end with nothing—dying bitter and broken from the injustice. But this time, fate has given us another chance. I will go to university. Rachel will become a wealthy woman. This time, without us paving the way, those shameless men and that wretched woman think they can still live happily ever after? Dream on.

Lerisa Jonah, a 24 year old woman was in love with her best friend, Anthony Gregson. She watched him get cheated upon, but for how long would she continue to keep silent and watch him suffer. Finally, Anthony told her that she was like a sister to him, but when she accepted to move on, he changed. Will Lerisa give Anthony a second chance? find out.

The first thing I do after being reborn is dump my devoted boyfriend and immediately say yes to the obsessive man's pursuit. In my past life, my so-called best friend, Sarah Cole, bound herself to an app that could transfer all of my boyfriend's love for me to her. My boyfriend was Luke Spencer. The golden roses he prepared for me ended up with her. The hotel he bought for me suddenly had her name on the deed. The way he looked at me shifted from fierce desire to cold disdain, but when he turned to her, his eyes overflowed with the tenderness I once knew so well. When I cried and demanded to know why Luke had changed, he just looked at me with disgust as he spat, "We broke up a long time ago. Leave my girlfriend alone!" On my birthday, Sarah went live online, flaunting how Luke had rented out the entire amusement park for her. Fireworks lit up the sky behind her in a blaze of color. And me? They worked together to have me thrown into a mental hospital. They called me a crazy woman obsessed with someone who never loved me back, and in endless rounds of electroshock therapy and forced medication, I died in despair. When I open my eyes again, I'm reborn. This time, I no longer feel anything real for my ex-boyfriend. Instead, I play along with Ethan Grant. I find it funny when Sarah opens the app again, siphoning away every drop of Ethan's overwhelming love. I really want to know if she can handle it.

On the fifth anniversary of my marriage to Vicente Buckley, he violated my trust by sleeping with my best friend Kinsley Gilmore, on our bed. Through the camera, my son Jamie Buckley's childish voice sounded. "Kinsley, I'll keep watch at the door. I won't let my mom come in!" As if rewarding him, Kinsley pecked Vicente and suggested, "Your son is great. Don't you think about having another child with Patricia?" Vicente responded by covering her face with a pillow, saying, "The scar on her belly disgusts me."

J'ai patienté trois heures à la fête d'anniversaire de mon petit ami, Roméo Bossuet. Celui qui devait être le héros du jour dans son costume élégant a été appelé à l'hôpital par son premier amour, Gisèle Favre. Prétextant une entorse à la cheville pour susciter la sympathie, cette femme a même filmé une vidéo d'un baiser avec Roméo. Pris par l'émotion, Roméo, soi-disant invalide des jambes, s'est levé pour la plaquer contre la porte. « Roméo, pourquoi tu dis pas à Nina que tes jambes sont guéries ? » La voix de Roméo était pâteuse : « Si elle l'apprenait, elle insisterait pour que je l'épouse. Mais qu'est-elle pour moi ? Juste une bonne gratuite ! Elle est pas digne de devenir ma femme. » Ils s'embrassaient passionnément. Gisèle, vêtue d'une robe de mariée que j'avais conçue de mes propres mains, regardait la caméra avec provocation. La vidéo s'est arrêtée sur le son de leurs baisers fougueux. À ce moment-là, j'ai compris que Roméo m'avait toujours menti… J'ai jeté le gâteau que j'avais préparé pour lui à la poubelle, puis ai pris mon téléphone pour envoyer un message à ma mère : « Maman, j'irai au rendez-vous arrangé, je te promets. »

She poured her heart out, yet he did not do the same. As infidelity befell her marriage, she was forced to divorce her husband with nothing left in her name. Overnight, she changed from the enviable position of Madam Larson to a pitiful, penniless wretch. She thought that she would not meet him again, yet fate played with her and they crossed paths once more. “Let me go, I beg you.”“Do you think I’ll do that again?”

"Make sure you wipe the counter," I remind him while wearing my panties. "With my tongue?" "Sure, if you wipe again with disinfectant after that." "Awww my little girl all grown up, using the word disinfectant and all. Bet you're getting deflowered any day now!" I smack his head while he laughs, thinking it's funny to keep on teasing me since last week. "I hope his willy isn't as big as mine," okay what now, "so he won't hurt your flower." I wanted to be mad at him, I do, but I laugh instead, stupid Toffer and his little boy talk. *** 30 year old Nina is confused with her hopeless love life. While her best friend pleasures women in the next room, she remains in her space keeping her virginity in-tact, wondering if she’s meant to be with her first love or she needs to move on to find her true soulmate. It takes my first love to end my dating strike. But will it take my first love to end my virginity?

My best friend passed away from postpartum hemorrhage. Ethan said he didn't want his child to grow up without a mother. To repay my best friend for saving my life years ago, I became the child's mother. I gave up my career and ambitions, willingly becoming a full-time housewife. For seven years, I cared for both father and son as if it were my life's mission. Yet, he always remained distant, his tenderness surfacing only in the quiet intensity of late nights. Afterward, he would hand me a few birth control pills. On New Year's Eve, my throat felt strange. I swallowed the pills, only to immediately vomit them all out. Ethan was furious and accused me of harboring ulterior motives. As punishment, he locked me outside on the open balcony in the rain. Our son came running with an umbrella in hand. But he walked past me without a glance and handed it to the housekeeper who was heading out. In that moment, I made up my mind—I would leave.

The dark matter had come to claim her soul. "Don't go. Do as he says," grandmother said. Suzanne blinked and looked into her grandmother's face. "Grandmama?” Grandmother's eyes were no longer glazed, and she had spoken with such clarity when usually, her speech was slurred. At that very moment, Suzanne had no doubt that her grandmother’s mind was crystal clear. Grandmother held onto Suzanne's hand and gently pried open her palm, revealing the black mark. Grandmother's eyes narrowed as she traced her bony finger on Suzanne's palm before staring back at Suzanne. "This," she pointed at Suzanne's palm, "This is the mark of the beast.”