Books Without Smut Novels & Stories

I asked. “Another one of his historical smuts.” Henry replied, raising his voice to grab Ron’s attention. “This is fine historical literature not smut.” I snorted at that. “Fine historical literature my ass.” Henry said. Hen was right. I had once searched for a book in Ron’s vast library that did not involve a Duke being wickedly seduced by a temptress or a Highlander spilling his seeds into a moaning fair maiden and had not found any. Not that I was complaining, they were quite educative.

I will still write romance books but completely cut out the smut while also writing ml (I am a versatile author). I know some of you would really want to see passionate moments between our MCs, but I’ve done a lot of thinking and have chosen what I think is best for me. I know this may be a bummer, but the mental instability implementation smut writing has on me takes a negative toll on my health and I’m sorry.

And perhaps alpha Eskaal was speaking the truth! ---------------- [Check out my smut/sex compilation book] Title: Lustful Delicacies

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😅 At least the main two smuts will be posted in their full explicit detail. Though, there might be a couple of smutty parts that happened during the main plotline that might fade into black on Good Novel. And everything that happened after the plotline and isn’t relevant for the future plot will be written into extras that will be available in the published version only. The list of currently planned extras (S tag means it will definitely include smut): * [S] Noah’s and Levi’s honeymoon * [S] Levi and Noah going dolphin riding again * [S] a day in Levi’s and Noah’s married life, several years later.

Curiosity was eating at her. With an effort, she made herself focus on the other titles. He had books on negotiating, battle tactics, history, agriculture…boring. Didn’t the man read any fiction? There was a book on stained glass that looked mildly interesting, but she kept scanning the shelves, hoping for something more enticing. Her search was rewarded. There, right in the middle of his shelves at eye level, was an entire shelf of books devoted to lovemaking. Wiley’s eyes boggled as she read the titles: An Illustrated Guide to the Sensual Arts. A Woman’s Climax. Emotional Need and the Sensual Virgin. There were dozens of titles.

Lots of smut. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a book convo,” I said. “Have you read anything noteworthy?” Chance whispered. As if we were sharing secrets. “I’ve been so busy. My latest read is an omegaverse,” I whispered back. “Mm.. there’s a lot of smut in those,” he teased. “There is,” I said. “Did I not give you enough last night?” he gasped. My step faltered, and I inhaled sharply.

I opened it without wasting time and walked to one of the shelves before rummaging through its stack of books. I knew I had found just what I was looking for when I pulled out an oxblood hardcover book from a collection, a smile crossing my face as I palmed out the dust from its plain design. The book had no title and that was not something to be surprised about because for as much as I knew, eroticists usually skipped putting a name to their works, they only had their pseudonyms written and that was it.

"What's wrong with it?" "Nothing. I didn't say anything was wrong with it. I just said it's the kind of thing only you would read." "It's a good read. Sharpens the mind. Forces you to sit with hard questions instead of running from them." "Don't waste your breath selling it. I'm not buying." "What do you read, then?" "I'd rather not say." His brow lifted. "Are you one of those people who reads smut?" The flat, plain way he said it had me covering my face with both hands.

She pulled back quickly, clutching the textbooks to her chest like armor. “Thank you,” she murmured, not meeting my eyes. “I’m fine. Just… clumsy this morning.” She looked flustered. More than flustered. Her breathing was slightly uneven, her nipples faintly visible through her blouse. The scent of her arousal was faint but unmistakable. The mate bond was hitting her hard, even if she didn’t understand why. I almost offered to carry her books to her office. Almost. But I knew how that would end — me bending her over her desk before she even had a chance to settle into her office. I needed to give her a little breathing room. For now.