Biracial Romance Novels & Stories

I wouldn’t lose any sleep if he died. The parade of people commenced. Throwing red roses, my mother’s favorite, onto her grave. Offering condolences. Moving on to go back to their petty little lives. They were like flies on shit, hungry for drama and fake with their sympathies. Byron didn’t bring a red rose. Instead, he threw a white lilac. The damn bastard always had to be different. I wondered if white lilacs represented purity and innocence. Nothing with Byron was an accident. He stopped in front of me and Branka. His gaze flicked up and caught Branka’s who watched him curiously.

If I could meet him again, I will gladly let him rocked his hips against mine. It wasn't my first wild night, frankly, it was one of the many nights I spent going to the club. But it was the first time ever I had sex with a stranger in a club's restroom. I definitely would feel ashamed if I ever get to meet him again, but I wouldn't be ashamed if I get to meet him at the club again. But anywhere else would be a complete disaster, he wouldn't know I was totally heartbroken that night. I don't regret the sex, if I have another chance I would do it over a million more times.

Aaron said leading the way out into the courtyard. “What are you doing?” Aislen hissed at Bianca. “I don’t know what you mean?” Bianca slid her a wary look. “Aaron,” Aislen mouthed the word. “Don’t encourage it.” Bianca pulled a face before leaning closer to Aislen. “It would do you some good to have some romance in your life again, M. You two look good together. Think about it, at least. You’d make really cute babies,” she added with a wicked grin.

he added, and his wife eagerly nodded in agreement. At last, Tatiana reached the altar and was greeted by Eric. When he took her hand, a fleeting, painful, and vivid memory struck him: that other wedding—the one not all that long ago—when he had held Bianca's hand. Ironically, when he touched Bianca, he had actually felt something; a strange connection, something he had denied and brushed aside at the time, but which now, with Tatiana, was entirely absent. There was no spark, not even that strange sensation. Just the cold contact of skin against skin.

But despite it all, we were drawn together time and time again. Our journey was full of pain, love, passion, and betrayal, but in the end, it was perfect. With all the imperfections that only made this love even more precious. We were opposites from the day we were born. Heaven and hell, ice and fire... Born to be two very different people, but with one entangled destiny. Against all odds, we survived everything we were subjected to. My name is Yileyna De’Lacor, and this, this is just the beginning of our story…

A reckless mistake I was going to put behind me. Nothing more. The entrance door opened. A cool breeze accompanied it. Without thinking, my eyes drifted to it. And then my heart stopped. Ash-blond hair. Brown eyes. That infuriatingly confident smile. Lucas Carter had just walked into the bar.

Once again, I’m writing a story to honor the request of a reader! A little over a year ago, Ms. Ciara Townsend wrote to me: “My best friend and I are avid readers, and my favorite books usually have white lead characters and black minor characters, and they’re usually quite ghetto. It’s a little discouraging when all of the couples are with people of the same race when there are so many mixed people in the world. I would love an interracial romance, especially when there are so many people that don’t believe in it.”

“You have given me a gift beyond measure, Mia. Not only your blood, but your unwavering trust and unconditional love. I am forever grateful for your presence in my immortal life.” I leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, tasting the remnants of my blood. “And I am grateful for you, Jonathan. You’ve shown me a world of passion and devotion that I never thought possible. Drinking my blood is just another way for us to explore the depths of our connection.” As our lips parted, we sat there, locked in a moment of shared understanding and love.

The young woman sitting by me stopped her game and watched me rant in astonishment. When I ran out of angry words, she clapped her hands in succession, and it echoed in the silence. "Well said, Princess, but I think someone lied to you, just like they lied to some of them over there," she said, pointing to a point in the room's corner. "Over there in the blue dress is Princess Kit of the Blue Brook Pack. She was given away as an alliance gift to the Lycan King and found herself as a slave here the very next day. Following her is Princess Yvette from the distant pack region of the werecats. She was told that she was to be matched with the Lycan Prince. She has not gotten over the deceit that

"This isn’t a romance novel, Nanny. This is my life, and I’m just trying to do my job without embarrassing myself." Nanny laughs, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Oh, Isa. You’re making it sound like it’s the worst thing in the world. Just imagine it—a forbidden workplace romance, secret glances, and the tension! Oh, how thrilling! The babysitter and the boss. You’ve already got the perfect setup." I glare at her. "Nanny, stop. He’s my boss, and he has a child. A cute child, by the way, who is clearly going through something. I’m not about to entertain any fantasies about him."