Best Romance Mystery Authors Novels & Stories

I again pecked on her cheek. "Love you, too Liam," She placed her lips on mine as my eyes broadened with her kiss. She was kissing me. Her kiss wasn't so violent as mine. Slowly kisses trailed on my neck, making me reckless to fuck her. She gave me a lot of wet kisses, which are unexpected. My hands were rubbing her nude back. I moaned when she bit on my chest. I husked, "Revenge." "Yes, my lovely husband," I heard her seductive voice.

The End About the Author: A lover of romance and strong characterization, xxxR_RUIZxxx believes that any story worth reading should have a hero/heroine that the reader can fall in love with. She is currently living her dream, writing sizzling tales of suspense with paranormal elements, as well as contemporary and humorous romance. Some of her books contain highly sensual love scenes and sexual tension that will make your heart race!

I pull my cardigan tighter around me, trying not to look like a woman unraveling on her fourth glass of wine. “I don’t write sex, Chloe. I write romance without all the detailed intimacy, I write about repressed trauma, losing a loved one, mystery, horror even not two people who’ve never met each other dirty talking and moan— oh God.” She takes my wine glass and replaces it with her full one. “Exactly. You’ve built an empire off tragedy. I think your readers are ready to read something based on actual pleasure or erotic tension.” “Ew. Who even reads things like that?”

HIS TOUCH, HER FIRE🔥 --- Chapter Two The Warning Beneath the Suit The morning sun barely filtered through the thin curtains of Evelyn’s kitchen window, casting long strips of pale gold across the old wood floor. She stood barefoot on the chilled boards, coffee in hand, hair unbrushed, shirt borrowed from her late father—faded red plaid hanging off one shoulder—and tried to ignore the storm rising in her gut. Last night’s encounter with Damien Romano had not just left her rattled; it had torn something loose inside her. Something dangerous. The man had stepped onto her land like he belonged, like the dirt itself bent beneath his polished shoes, and then he’d spoken with a calm so soaked in a

He's getting married soon, but I can't forget him. Lindsay seemed to think she had uncovered a secret of mine, both excited and apprehensive at the same time. Lindsay wrote, [Sharon, I don't know how to comfort you. But you're so amazing; I'm sure he hasn't gotten over you.] I replied, [I'm already married. I may still think about breaking the rules sometimes, but I'm not young and beautiful like you. You must have many suitors, right?] No one can resist flattery, after all.

Mafia books on this platform: Take me I'm yours ( stalker romance) His secret wife (Marriage of convience) Werewolf books on this platform: The royally screwed Luna The royally screwed queen The royally screwed princess The royally screwed rogue Dark romance on this platform: Let me go ( Stalker romance) Coming July 2024 Kind regards Tema G.M Your favorite author *Heart*

And it's all thanks to you all, my lovely readers. Anastasia is now completed and I can finally put my pen down with gratitude in my heart. It's obviously been an intense journey to pick up this book and continue on until the end. I did my utmost best to shape up the story into a beautiful one with the themes of mystery and steamy romance fully embedded.

"You don't have to tell me any secrets, just something personal. Otherwise how do I know you're not going to murder me?" Another laugh. "I guess you don't. You just have to trust me." "That sounds like something a murderer would say." "You seem to know a lot about murderers. How do I know you're not one?" "Murderers are rarely women." "I don't know," he says. "Seems like the perfect set up - beautiful woman, luring men out to a secluded spot with a strange siren song... Myths are full of that shit." I keep my face down so he can't see that I'm blushing at the fact he called me beautiful. "I guess I've been found out."

I watch intently with my brows raised as he removes a sizable oil painting from its place on the wall, unveiling a hidden safe that had been seamlessly integrated into the structure. I pivot on my heel and survey the colossal collection of books that had escaped my memory until now. The tips of my fingers delicately graze the uppermost edges of the book spines as my eyes glide over the titles. My fingers hover over one book in particular. It's a book that is very improper in Alessandros’ collection. This book is a historical romance novel written by Sylvia Day. One of Roses’ all-time favourite authors. Curiosity gets the better of me and I start to slide the book out, “come here, tesoro.” I

Most of them were what I expected—books on strategy, history, a few on Italian mafia politics. And then, tucked on the bottom shelf, almost hidden— "You weren't kidding about these?" I pulled one out, raising an eyebrow. "Really?" "Put that back." "The Duke's Dangerous Desire," I read aloud, grinning. "A Rake's Redemption. The Highlander's Captive Bride—" "Jameson." Her voice was sharp, but I could hear the embarrassment underneath. "Put them back." "I'm not judging," I said, turning to face her. "I'm just surprised. You kill people for a living, but you read romance novels?"