Best Romantic Historical Fiction

On the day I won the national esports championship, my girlfriend of eight years told me she wanted to go on stage and personally present me with flowers. Standing on the podium, my heart was racing. I reached into my pocket to pull out the ring I'd hidden there, ready to propose to her in front of the entire nation. But what happened next shocked me. She giggled and, instead of handing me the bouquet, she gave it to her male best friend. Under the bright lights, they became the center of attention. The crowd cheered, and their congratulatory messages flooded the trending topics. Even his fans tagged me in posts, mocking, [I told you not to get in the way of our couple, now look at you.] I simply posted on Twitter, [Respect and blessings. Please be locked together forever.]

My best friend's brother and I have been dating for half a year, and she has no clue. My best friend drags me out on Christmas for a singles' night out. Unexpectedly, we see her brother, Chris Lambert, holding hands and kissing a girl under the fireworks. "Damn, Chris finally got the school belle!" She looks thrilled and pulls me forward to say hi. Chris awkwardly rubs his nose and introduces me to his girlfriend, "This is my sister, and the one beside her is… sort of like my sister too." I smile silently. We have held hands and kissed, yet now, I am just sort of like his sister.

Cho Ara, a normal young girl whose life changed into a nightmare overnight. "Your stare is scary like the endless sea. But I see for who you are, you truly are. Your eyes only show pain are craving for love." This is a historical romantic fantasy. Serious cliche alert. And if you are looking for that pure selfless love kind of story with a roller coaster of emotions, then this is the perfect choice for y'all. I hope you enjoy my story:)

He raised one eyebrow and leaned down. "Is that a yes to my question or to my proposal?" His eyes were focused on my lips and I struggled to concentrate, but I nodded. "Yes." I looked into his eyes that were hazy with lust, and I nodded again. "It's a yes to the both of them." He tipped my face to him and pressed a hard kiss on my lips. "Good girl." He whispered. And as I shuddered at the praise, I had no idea I just sealed my fate with the devil. ~~~~~~ Kayla, twenty-two-years-old and a single mum, has only ever wanted to be loved, even though her parents never shared the same sentiments with her. But that changed when her boyfriend eloped, leaving her nineteen-year-old self with an unwanted pregnancy and nothing but a penny to her name. Years later, the word love left a bitter taste in her mouth. Until she meets Gabriel. Gabriel Marcello, a thirty-five-year-old cold-hearted billionaire, who is still reeling from his past, does not care about anyone but his daughter... until the night Kayla Warner ends up in his arms. It was only meant to be an innocent one-night stand. She was only meant to be his for the night. Until he wanted more. Until they both needed more. Will they be able to conquer all obstacles as many secrets unfold? Will they be willing to get over their past and love each other without bounds?

"I still love her, Brother Ezra. And I can't live without her." Razel's tears began flooding his cheeks. "But she loves me, Razel. And I love her too." I replied with conviction. "I am done swallowing my pride. I love you because you are my stepbrother. But that doesn't mean I will always let you have what you desire. Can you just be happy for us?" "Can you give her back to me, huh?" to my surprise, Razel dropped his knees on the ground. "She loves me first, remember?" Fated to my Stepbrother's Mate is packed with love and betrayal. Two men fell in love with one woman and are willing to bend the written rules of the werewolf world. Kill for Love. Betrayal for Love. Who will have her in the END? The older brother who prefers BLOOD than WATER? Or the younger brother who prefers WATER than BLOOD?

When I return to the day I discover my husband, David Stone, is cheating on me, I immediately switch shifts with my colleague. In my previous life, David had been fooling around with my best friend, Roxanne Lane, in his car when they got into an accident and were rushed to the hospital. When I received the news, I hurried there at once and saw them tangled together, naked, in the aftermath of the wreck. My colleague operated on them, and both of them survived. However, the shock was too much for me, and I passed out. When I woke up, David sent me divorce papers, demanding that I leave the marriage empty-handed. Citing his affair, I demanded half of his assets. In response, he sneered, "Me? Cheating? Where's the evidence?" That was when I remembered that I had fainted before taking any photos. The hospital's surveillance cameras happened to be down that day, leaving me without a shred of proof. I lost the case and walked out with nothing. On the day of the divorce, broke and numb, I stumbled out of the courthouse and was hit by a car. Now, the moment I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day David and Roxanne are taken to the hospital.

In high school, I had finally worked up the courage to confess my feelings to my longtime crush. The next day, he disappeared from my life without a word. Heartbroken and furious, I moved on and started dating someone else, leaving him behind in my memories. Years passed, and I thought I had buried that part of my life. But ten years later, fate threw us back together—this time, he was my new boss. Not just any boss, but my boss’ boss. I had no idea how to face him, but one thing was clear: resigning suddenly felt like my best option.

George Lansbury (22 February 1859 – 7 May 1940) was a British politician and social reformer who led the Labour Party from 1932 to 1935. Apart from a brief period of ministerial office during the Labour government of 1929–31, he spent his political life campaigning against established authority and vested interests, his main causes being the promotion of social justice, women's rights and world disarmament.

In my previous life, my sister thought that since my husband and I had high-paying jobs, she could swap her son with my child without anyone noticing. But twenty-five years later, the tables turned. My son had grown into a street thug, while her son—raised under my care—rose smoothly through life. Young as he was, he had already become a CEO. He was dutiful, bought me a villa, and even sent me traveling around the world. My sister barged into his company, waving a DNA test report, kicking up a scene, only to be thrown out by security. "Mr. Kieran said that even if you are his biological mother, you never gave him a single day of care," they told her. "So he refuses to acknowledge you." Breaking down completely, she drove her car into me and ended my life. When I opened my eyes again, we had returned to the very day she switched our babies. This time, my sister clutched her own child tightly, a wild, triumphant grin on her face. "From now on, you can be the mother of a street thug," she sneered. "The villa and all those riches—they're mine!"

On my wedding day, my best friend, Beatrice Hopper, buys a lottery ticket from a convenience store and gives it to me as a wedding gift. I initially believe that she's joking, but when I see the unmistakable disdain in her eyes, I know something is off. "They say it's the thought that counts. This gift is precisely how I show that I care. Besides, I'm pregnant and need money for everything right now. I don't want you to feel bad about taking my money," she says. Honestly, I'm disappointed. But since it's my wedding, I can only stand there and watch as my best friend drags her entire family to the reception for free food and drinks. As expected, the wedding ends on a sour note. The two of us part ways unhappily. What I don't see coming, though, is winning 50 million dollars in the lottery that night. Elated, I tell my husband the news, and we head to the lottery office first thing in the morning to claim the prize. The news quickly spreads among our friends and family. But by the afternoon, Beatrice pounds on my door, demanding I return the lottery ticket. "I should've been the winner!" she screamed. "I was the one who bought it, so why should you take away my prize?" I keep backing away from her, panic flooding my entire body, so much so that I don't even notice she's holding a knife. The last thing I expect is for her to swing it at me in the middle of our struggle. By the time I realize what's happening, the blade is already buried in my husband's chest. I try to call the police, but Beatrice yanks me back. We grapple, stumble, and crash through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Eventually, we fall to our deaths in the courtyard below. The universe must've had mercy on me because when I open my eyes again, I'm back at the moment she hands me that lottery ticket. Here comes my second chance.