Best Romance Novels Historical Novels & Stories

Was it from a novel Paige had read before? "What? Do you also think I'm right?" Chris asked with a smile. Paige refuted, "You should read fewer messy novels." Who would have thought that someone like Chris, a CEO, actually liked reading all sorts of romance novels? Did he ever imagine himself in those novels, fantasizing about being the male lead? Chris said, "I don't read any messy novels. I read the painstaking works of the authors." Paige was at a loss for words. Did she also not read the authors' painstaking works? Such double standards.

“Please don't tell me this is a werewolf novel or a vampire romance novel.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, it's a historical romance novel.” "OH!" I was amazed at Athena's persistence in getting someone to read something she loved. “How did she succeed in getting you to read this kind of book? I know you are not the romantic type of man, not even the type who likes history.”

Only this particular library was mainly archives and non-fiction works, and I was getting increasingly annoyed that even now, this didn't seem to be going right. My fingers slid along the spines of each individual novel and then rested on a famous historical romance novel. I picked it out and smiled at it. Leave it to Lyndra to have this tucked away in amongst the more straightforward reading options. Then another book caught my eye. Its spine was one of the most detailed I had seen, with gold stars going up its length. I put back Lyndra's novel and lifted out the second one instead. It was masterfully binded with intricate detailing. The star pattern continued on the front, making up the bo

The curly blonde-haired girl, on the other hand, was just confused as she sized me up with her eyes. My eyes were locked on the handsome Alpha prince, so sexy and domineering with his Alpha aura filling the air. He had that bad boy enticing appearance that most ladies would love and his dreamy hazel eyes cute, but right there, I knew he wasn't for me. His eyes were brimming with disgust and anger as they gawked at me even with my mate scent.

She has always been in love with him but he betrayed her love. The particular Saturday afternoon brought things to the end in her marriage. It was early June, and the weather was hot as Amelia read one of her favourite historical romance novels on the roof garden of their Brooklyn penthouse. Money was no object for Jacob, a sought-after address. He was unusual and handsome; though he was young and was a CEO in one of the leading technical companies in the city, and his family was very wealthy, so he could afford the best. If the same could have been said for Amelia's situation, it might not have been quite so bad, but her career was no longer rewarding as it had once before, which meant she

However, her eyes took in the four poster drapes around the bed, how clean, soft and expensive they looked. As her feet landed on the marble floor, she curiously took in the decor in the room. The owner definitely had a thing for dark tones. As her eyes roamed the wall colour to the furnishings, dark red and black definitely dominated over any other colour. What was just as odd was that it felt like she had stepped into a room from the regency era. She knew that so well because one of her favourite pastimes was to read romance novels and she especially had a thing for historical love stories. The bedside table, the chest of drawers and the rest of the furnishings were all antique yet well po

My childhood friend promised to marry me once we came of age — but at my wedding ceremony, he gave my wedding ring to my stepsister, Summer Hugh. At the time, it was Victor Lowell, the fearsome mafia heir, who saved me by publicly announcing he had loved me for years. In the five years we had been married, he would fulfill every wish I had, even those I mentioned offhand. I truly believed I was the center of his world. All that changed when I stumbled across a top-secret folder as I was cleaning his bookshelf. The very first page was a file on Summer, with three red words printed in bold, “Top protection priority.”

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I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt this safe, this whole, this… unbroken. He moved slightly, his arm pulling me closer into the warmth of his body. I could feel the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart against mine. My hair was tangled with his, my cheek resting against the warmth of his chest. The whole experience of waking up like this was like poetry—the quiet, the sunlight, the gentle rhythm of him breathing, and me just being there, with him. He stirred, his voice a murmur in his throat. “Bonjour, mon amour,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the side of my head.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the knot in my chest loosened completely. I pulled down a thick historical romance with a brooding duke on the cover, it was exactly the kind Mirabel would tease me about, and sank into one of the leather armchairs. The cushions hugged me perfectly. I kicked off my slippers, tucked my legs beneath me, and opened the book to the first page. The words pulled me in immediately. Rich descriptions, sharp dialogue, the slow burn of forbidden attraction between the heroine and the man who was supposed to be off-limits. I lost track of time, turning pages steadily, the outside world fading until there was only the story unfolding in my hands.