Classical Romance Novels & Stories

25 March 1820 Rome, Italy Jacob was lounging on a chair and Mrs. Valentina Lombardi, the most sought after courtesan in Rome was sprawled on his lap, her lush body pressed to his as she tried to coax a reaction out of him. He knew all the other men watching him envied him. But for the life of him, he couldn't muster any enthusiasm for the act. Instead of finding her perfume enticing, he found it cloying. The smoke from the cigars made him feel suffocated.

He has heard of it, but never truly experienced it for himself. "Love is romance." he answered briefly, hoping that his answer would suffice. "And what is romance?" Asty continues to test him. "I've read it in novels. It is when a man or a woman starts to develop feelings for each other." "Romance coexists in love," Asty told her with her calm, dreamy eyes. "Love is compassion towards other people. It is a feeling that never goes away. If it goes away, then it is merely infatuation."

*** We open the store, help a couple of early customers, and within ten minutes Matteo has commandeered a stack of receipts and started sketching circles and arrows like we’re planning a heist. “Okay,” he says. “Option one: classic romance.” “Define classic.” “Candlelit dinner. Somewhere intimate. You get down on one knee. Boom. Tears.” “That’s… reasonable,” I say. He grimaces. “But expected.” “Cara likes expected,” I argue. “She likes thoughtful,” he counters. “There’s a difference.” A woman browsing the romance section coughs pointedly, clearly eavesdropping. Matteo lowers his voice anyway. “Option two: chaos.”