Best Romantic Excerpts From Novels Novels & Stories

He was a beautiful mess. Usually, seeing him like this was enough to set me off. “Nothing,” I muttered. I returned my lips to his. The kiss was rougher this tiime, more aggressive. He moaned as I bit his lower lip and sucked it in my mouth. For some reason, the sound irritated me. How had I never noticed how soft Xavier’s voice was? It was too delicate, too smooth. It was so unlike Adrian’s deep voice. So unlike the way he had sounded when I was pounding into him…

I leaned in a fraction of an inch, a teasing glint in my eyes, "I prefer classic literature. Russian realism, psychological thrillers. Dostoyevsky, Fitzgerald, Hemingway. I like substance." "Substance?!" Ruby mocked, completely offended. "Are you implying my romance novels don't have substance? Excuse you, but enemies-to-lovers tropes require intense psychological maneuvering! The angst! The tension! It's art, Alexander. Your little Russian thrillers have nothing on a slow-burn romance."

you surely must know it was all for you. A quote from my favorite classic book. Had he been paying attention to which books I read? But posing as Mr. Darcy did earn some points to Kabir. Kriti stole the note from you and read. "Wow. Boys like him exist. It's too romantic." I grinned, sniffing the flowers. Yes, boys like him did exist.

Rose couldn't help but feel jealous from Carmen calling Roman's phone. She was angry Roman's girlfriend had to ruin their passionate make out session. The call had ruined the most passionate kiss to they had ever had. No man had ever mad her feel the way Roman made her feel with his kiss. Not even Daniel. It was like a billion butterfly got lose I'm her belly when she connected lips with the billionaire. Rose was sure this was an experience she would never forget. He tasted like the chicken soup he had made her and she wished she explored his mouth a little longer.

His gaze held a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, a sentiment he seldom revealed. As she continued to dress his wounds, the room seemed to shrink, narrowing down to the unspoken connection between them. Raina, in your writing, delves into the complexities of their romance. The physical act of dressing wounds serves as a metaphor for the healing they find in each other amid the chaos of their lives. Let the readers feel the emotional nuances, the uncharted territory of love in the shadows.

In the quiet of the night, surrounded by the whispers of the wind and the rustle of leaves, Axel and Hazel embraced the promise of a slow burn romance that was waiting to blossom in the quiet spaces between their hearts. And as they lingered in the park, hearts entwined and souls laid bare, Axel and Hazel knew that their journey together was just beginning, a love story that was waiting to unfold in the gentle rhythm of their shared moments, the quiet whispers of their hearts leading them on a path of discovery, connection, and the unspoken magic of a romance that had blossomed from the depths of their intertwined souls.

Of course, I also have other books. For some reason, 'Endless Poison Love' is my favorite romance novel because I can feel the Author's feelings being poured into it. Sure, the plot, characters, scenes, words, and lessons are good, but it's the Author's way of writing that has got me hooked. She's a genius.

The night felt really heavy. The rain had stopped,. I could still smell it in the air. It was cool and fresh. It came into my room through the little space I had left open by the balcony door. I stood there looking at the garden below me. The roses looked almost black in the moonlight. Everything outside seemed calm. Inside me everything was moving. I put my arms around myself not because I was cold. Because my thoughts were too loud. A lot of things had changed. Loving him meant living with things that were not always clear. It meant knowing that peace would never last forever.

Dante said. Elian looked at him. "Possibly," he said. "Or because the direct approach to love in fiction is almost always the wrong one." He paused. "The best love in novels is in the corners. In the incidental things. Not the declarations — the coffee handed over without being asked." "The coffee handed over without being asked," Dante said. "You've noticed I do that," Elian said. "I noticed it the first morning," Dante said. "In the Budapest safehouse. You guessed correctly."

She could do a lot of things. Instead, she picked up the embarrassing romance novel and walked to the window seat. --- The book was terrible. The dialogue was overwrought. The hero was impossibly handsome, and the heroine was impossibly naive, and the plot required a series of coincidences that would never happen in real life. Elara loved every page. She read until the morning light shifted to afternoon. She read until her eyes grew tired and her stomach reminded her that breakfast was a distant memory. She read until she stopped seeing Isabella's tight smiles and Viktor's watchful eyes every time she blinked.