Better Romance Novels & Stories

I caught my fiancé and the fake heiress in the act. They didn’t show an ounce of guilt; the heiress even laughed at me, full of mockery. “What I have isn’t just this,” she said. “Last year, I was bound to the Score-Boosting System. No matter what score you got on the SAT, I was always a little higher. Didn’t you notice?” “Natalie,” Vivian sneered, “as long as I’m around, you’ll never get ahead of me!” Anger surged through me. I wanted to take them down with me, but then a gas explosion struck, and the three of us were reborn at the same moment. I was welcomed back into the Sullivan family. Grandpa Sullivan declared that whoever became the SAT champion would inherit the family fortune. The fake heiress boasted proudly, “Natalie, don’t even try. You’ll always be my stepping stone!” I smiled. “If you’re always a little ahead of me, fine. I’ll just set the highest score in history.”

After the college entrance exams ended, I got drunk, pinned the school genius against the wall, and confessed to him. When I opened my eyes again, I had somehow jumped ten years into the future. Not only was I married to the guy I once had a crush on, we even had a son together. A seven-year anniversary cake sat on the table, and my heart nearly burst with happiness. Then my son tricked me into a dark storage room. "Today is Mandy's birthday! I won't let you bother Dad!" "I'm protecting Dad and Mandy's happiness!" Separated by a single wall, I suddenly realized something. My husband did not love me. And neither did my son. By the time the servants finally let me out, I beat my son so hard he burst into tears. "You evil woman! How dare you hit me! I'm telling Dad to divorce you!" I locked him back inside the room and let out a cold laugh. "Fine. Divorce it is. "Who says I care about either of you?"

I picked up the top university admission slot that the real heir didn't want. Horace Clark had gone crazy for love. He ran off with a failing student and dropped out, smashing the perfect life he had been handed. Meanwhile, I carried the label of an impostor who stole someone else's place. Step by step, I clawed my way up, became a rising name in the business world, and even married his childhood sweetheart. At the peak of my life, I opened my eyes again and found myself back in senior year, on the day we were filling out our college applications. And floating in front of me were lines of strange comments. [Brian, the fake heir, is a straight-up thief. He stole the life that was supposed to belong to the real heir, Horace!] [In his last life, the real heir completely lost his head over love. He dropped out of school, ran off with that rebellious troublemaker to start a business, and even handed his childhood fiancée to someone else. What a disaster. The guy was a total idiot!] [Good thing he gets a redo this time. The real heir has finally woken up. Now I really wanna see how the fake heir who stole someone else's life ends up crashing and burning.] I watched the comments quietly and sneered. Hate to break it to them, but the road I walked was carved out with my own hands. Even if Horace were reborn a hundred times, he still wouldn't be able to stop me from reaching the top and claiming my glory.

The heir to Ashbourne's most powerful family was hopelessly in love with me. We met when we were children. When we turned 17, he couldn't wait any longer and confessed his feelings. At 20, he sold his favorite heirloom bracelet to buy me a rose-quartz necklace and told me I would always be his princess. At 24, I was diagnosed with leukemia. He donated his bone marrow to save me, despite his family's wishes. At 30, he became a business titan. One day, he proposed to me in the grandest way possible via a global livestream. No one would have believed that a man so devoted had secretly been keeping the fake heiress who framed me by his side for three full years. All those years of love suddenly seemed like a dream, and now… I had been slapped awake. So, I made arrangements to fake my death. From that moment on, he and I would never see each other again.

I LEFT BROKEN AND FAT, I CAME BACK HIS BOSS WITH TRIPLETS Fourteen months, three weeks, four days. That is how long Emma Carson has been married to a man who barely looks at her. She has learned to zip her own dresses, eat dinners alone, and stand slightly behind her husband at every event. Being overlooked teaches you to listen extremely well. What she has not learned is what Liam Carson planned two weeks before the wedding. Six months. Marry her cleanly. End it cleanly. Return to the woman he actually wanted. But Liam serves the divorce over coffee like he is cancelling a subscription, sends Emma away with nothing but her dignity, and never asks the one question that would have changed everything. He never asks if she is carrying his child. She is. Three of them. Eighteen months later, Emma Carson does not exist anymore. Emma Bellamy does. She runs Bellamy Inc, one of Europe's fastest-rising companies. She answers to no one. She raises three brilliant, chaotic, grey-eyed children in a Paris apartment that smells like lavender and possibility. Nobody in her industry knows who she used to be. Until Carson Holdings submits a meeting request. She declines it. Then another. When Liam finally flies to Paris himself, Emma sits at the head of her own boardroom table and tells him to call her Ms. Bellamy. He thought he was closing a business deal. He has no idea what he is walking into. He wants the merger. He will have to earn everything else. The company. The forgiveness. The three small children with his eyes who have never been told his name. Some women fall apart. Emma Bellamy built an empire.

I lucked out, securing a guaranteed admission spot at Westbridge University—the one the real heiress throws away. Nicole Stewart drops out for love and runs off with the school's bully, shattering what should've been her perfect life. Meanwhile, I'm branded a thief, accused of stealing her place. However, I fight my way up to become a powerhouse in business and even marry her childhood sweetheart, Spencer Lowe. Yet, at the peak of it all, I open my eyes to find myself back to graduation day of senior year, right when I'm filling out my choices of colleges. A live barrage of comments flashes before my eyes. "That fake heiress, Gloria Stewart, is nothing but a thief. She stole Nicole's life!" "In her last life, Nicole actually dropped out of school to start a business with some school bully. She even gave her childhood sweetheart, who was her fiance, to someone else! Ugh, she's so stupid and pathetic." "Good thing Nicole gets a second chance. This time, the real heiress has awakened, so let's just see how miserable that fake heiress who stole her life becomes!" I just smile at the scrolling insults. Sorry, but I carve my own path. Nicole can be reborn a hundred times, and she still can't stop me from rising to the top.

Your key card opened the wrong door and you walked into the wrong room… just in time to see his towel drop. You weren’t supposed to be there. You stayed anyway. That’s exactly the kind of bad decision this book is built on. Dark Drippy Desires is an unapologetic collection of explicit erotic stories about strangers who shouldn’t, married men who do, rivals who cross the line, besties who want more, stepfathers who couldn't stay away anymore, step-siblings who choose reality to fantasies and every reckless moment where deep desire wins over common sense. No fade to black. No holding back. Every story stands alone. Every chapter goes deeper than it should. This isn’t soft. This is the kind of book you read with your door locked. Explicit adult content throughout.

Everyone in my family knew I was a Bond-Seeker with ninety-nine lives. And still, not one of them loved me. During the holiday, I woke up early making breakfast for my family. My mother threw it all angrily. “You filthy little curse. Don’t dirty my kitchen.” When my father was hospitalized after a car accident, I stayed by his bed for three days and three nights. The moment he woke up, he grabbed the IV bottle beside him and smashed it against my head. “Was killing your twin sister not enough for you? Now you want me dead too?” I used my scholarship money to buy my elder brother a brand-new laptop. He threw it straight off the balcony and watched it shatter on the ground below. “I’m not using anything bought with a cursed girl’s money. I don’t want it shortening my life.” On my eighteenth birthday, I handed a love letter to Ethan Whitmore, the boy next door I had secretly loved for years. He tore it to pieces right in front of me. “What, were you hoping to trade my feelings for points? Get lost, Natalie. I don’t want you getting me killed.” In the end, the System ruled that my bond had failed. Then it took my life back. I thought no one would grieve for me. But before it disappeared, the System spent the last of its energy broadcasting every memory I had across every major platform.

I was the ultimate pick-me girl at the office, and somehow, I ended up inside a horror game before New Year's Eve. Seeing the bloody lady crawling in the dark elevator, I screamed out loud. "Oh my gosh! Where did you get that lipstick? It's perfect! It makes your skin look three shades lighter!" The bloody lady blinked at me in confusion as I helped her up. She even recommended the exact lipstick shade. Then I turned around and came face-to-face with the chainsaw-psycho general manager with multiple personalities, swinging his weapon around. I tied a little bow on his chainsaw. "Everyone else only cares if your chainsaw is sharp. I'm the only one who cares if you're tired from swinging it all day." The monsters in the room looked at each other, all thinking the same thing… Why did this feel weirdly wholesome?

I became the ultimate simp for Shannon Seay, the school's notorious flirt, and everyone assumed I was head over heels for her. When she skipped classes to pick fights or chase thrills, I'd copy notes and homework for her. When she tangled in ambiguous flings with other guys, I'd provide alibis to cover her tracks. For three grueling years, I poured my heart and soul into transforming her into an academic star, securing her spot at a top university. But right before orientation, she dumped me. Towering over me, she declared, "I know you've had a crush on me forever, but you're all books and no spark. Compared to Hunter, you're too rigid. We're done. I'm with him now." The crowd held its breath, anticipating my meltdown. I peeked at my phone, confirming a $50-million transfer, and replied with genuine nonchalance, "Alright, congrats." No one knew my unwavering devotion was purely because her father had paid handsomely for it. Now that the pay had been secured, it was time for me to vanish.