Dark Historical Romance Novels & Stories

Her eyes met mine when I lifted my head, and it made me uncomfortable. “We’re not close,” I said bluntly. Damien added. “We were.” I turned to face him with a stern, forced smile. “No, we weren’t.” His eyes never left mine. “We dated.” My throat tightened. “No, we didn’t.” He turned to Caterina, desperate to make me lose my mind with his words by trying to prove something that wasn’t even there. “Isabella and I dated five years ago,” he said. “It was during the time you said you needed space.”

The driver opened the door, and Elias stepped out first, turning immediately to offer his hand to Grace. The moment her fingers slid into his iron grip, the camera shutters fired in a manic, overlapping rhythm that turned the night completely white. Elias pulled her close against his side, his large hand wrapping firmly around her waist, his fingers splaying over the heavy emerald silk of her gown. The physical proximity was absolute; their bodies brushed together with every step they took up the red carpet. To the cameras, it was a display of breathless, high-society romance. To Grace, it was a beautifully staged cage match.

He kissed her—hard and desperate, tasting of salt and fear. Mira kissed him back, pouring every ounce of love and hope into the press of her lips against his. --- They spent the night in the study, going through the box. Letter after letter, photograph after photograph. The Locke-Castellano connection ran deep—generations of crime, corruption, and cruelty. Agatha had been the black sheep, marrying outside the family, but she'd never fully escaped her blood. Her son, Henry, had inherited the worst of both houses. And Kieran had inherited Henry.

But the truth is simple in a way most people wouldn’t understand. I have a dangerously high libido and I’m NEVER sexually satisfied. And because of that, every relationship I’ve had seems to end the same way. The first one called me “too intense.” He said I made him feel like he was always trying to keep up with something he couldn’t understand. We lasted two weeks after having a threesome with his crazy elder brothers. Even then, it felt like I’d just started. They didn’t satisfy me at all—sexually or otherwise. I barely even came.

I remember how intensely I came on his cock, and my lower abdomen fills with heat and languor. “Tim,” I whisper, hugging the pillow, “I love you so much, Tim…” When I saw Sarkis's club burning on the news yesterday, I immediately knew it was Tim. It was terrifying, more terrifying than I've ever been. I pictured Tim wounded, burned, and suffocating from carbon monoxide.

Edward handled most of them while I restocked shelves and learned the layout. Around two, a woman came in looking for a specific dark romance. "Do you have anything like Butcher & Blackbird?" she asked. "I just finished it and I need something similar." Edward looked at me. "Maliya?" I stepped forward. "Have you read Haunting Adeline? Or the Broken Bride series? They've got similar dark romance vibes with morally gray love interests." Her face lit up. "I haven't read either of those. Where are they?" I led her to the romance section, pulled both books, gave her quick summaries.

More… specific. I read romance novels and decided the first step to getting his attention was to make him see me as something other than Jane’s little friend. I started wearing shorter skirts when I knew I’d see him. Tighter tops. I’d pull my hair up to expose my neck, mimicking gestures I’d seen in movies. But he never gave me a second glance. Not until I went for the nuclear option. Last night, I sent him photos. Not just any photos. Explicit ones. Carefully angled, lit by the dim lamp in my dorm room, leaving nothing to the imagination. I sent them to his private email, the one I’d memorized from seeing it on paperwork years ago.

He stands up and moves closer to me, leaning over my chair and bringing his face close to my ear. "This is just the beginning, my dear wife. Welcome back to hell!" Wit that, he grabs my face with both of his large hands and squeezes until I think my cheekbones might crack under the pressure. "Running away from me was the worst mistake of your entire pathetic life and you're going to learn what it truly means to be Blaze Langston's wife!"