Romans & histoires Dark Romance Short Stories

Can I write a Cute high school romance? Lets try... Not many years ago, in your typical high school environment, a girl named Alex fell in love with a girl called Zuri . Unfortunately, Alex had no gutts or whatsoever to confess it even for herself. The only thought of saying it would make her heart jump out of her chest. She did say many things to herself like: What is love? If I do not know what it is, I can't be in love. Why is my heart racing? Have I got anxiety problems now?

In my view, the world stretched beyond the confines of romantic love. I excelled in my studies and ventured into the business world. I possessed knowledge, had connections, and I'm on par with anyone else. Linda's attempts at sweetly belittling me had no effect. Just when it seemed like she wanted to say more, I waved my hand. "If you don't want to anger me further, please leave and let me rest." Linda fell silent instantly. After a long while, I heard the sound of her leaving as she pushed the door.

How does someone go about seducing their best friend’s dad? I know it is crazy that I feel Grant is the best man to take revenge with. My friend’s father I don't know how that can be possible, so I’m left to figure it out on my own. Which is how I end up standing on Grant’s front porch, wearing a short black dress and thigh-highs like a reckless little brat, in the middle of January. It’s well past midnight. The kind of hour that whispers sin. I’m shivering, and not just because of the icy wind that bites through my clothes.

His gaze held a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, a sentiment he seldom revealed. As she continued to dress his wounds, the room seemed to shrink, narrowing down to the unspoken connection between them. Raina, in your writing, delves into the complexities of their romance. The physical act of dressing wounds serves as a metaphor for the healing they find in each other amid the chaos of their lives. Let the readers feel the emotional nuances, the uncharted territory of love in the shadows.

Every time I brought up another dark romance, another obscure vampire lore theory, another fantasy where the heroine begged to be drained while she came undone, they would groan and roll their eyes. “Elena, for fuck’s sake, you need to get properly fucked by a living, breathing man instead of jerking off to fictional undead dick,” my best friend had laughed the last time. But she didn’t understand. Nothing—no toy, no lover, no late-night fling—had ever come close to the aching, throbbing need that vampire fantasies stirred in me. The surrender. The possession. The exquisite terror of giving your blood, your body, and perhaps even your soul to something far older and more powerful than you.

I reach him, take his hands, and say my vows. But when the minister says, "You may kiss the bride," and Ryan leans in, I catch a movement in the back of the church. A tall figure, standing in the shadows. He's wearing a dark suit. His eyes are fixed on me. And I see him smile. I kiss Ryan, but my heart is already somewhere else. Because I know. Our one night thing will never end.

“I’d be offended if you did.” They stood there, snow falling softly around them, two enemies pretending not to feel the strange pull crackling between them. “You’re a widower,” Nyra said suddenly. Sebastian’s jaw tightened. “Don’t.” “She died three years ago,” Nyra continued, her tone softer now. “I know.” Silence stretched. “You did your homework,” he said. “I always do.” Another pause. Then she smiled again—dangerous, teasing. “Relax, Volkov. I’m not here to kill you. It’s Christmas.”

"Love is the strongest weapon we have against darkness," he had said. Eli turned to the girl he loved and took her hand. With all his heart, he poured his love into her, and suddenly, the darkness began to recede. The other vampires joined in, pouring their love into the battle, and together they were able to push back the darkness.

he asked. She thought for a second. “Ones that have happy endings.” “A romantic?” he asked. She never considered herself one. “I like noir—but the stories where the boy gets the girl in the end. Or vice versa.” “Top shelf,” he told her, indicating the back room. She went there and waited. What if he followed? What would that mean? She’d been out of the dating loop since she’d landed her current job, the one that had sucked up all her time, her mind, her soul, her life. Her fingers trailed over the broken spines of misused paperbacks, and she hoped he would follow her. But what would she say? What would she do?

Am I supposed to be enjoying this? ‎How did he know I loved getting tied up? ‎ ‎Ryan obviously didn't care for her answer as he swiftly pulled her pyjamas shorts down revealing her tiny red g-string. ‎ ‎"F**k! I've imagined this p***y in so many ways, Elena" He pulled down the shorts from her legs and took a deep sniff. ‎ ‎"Dammit Elena! You smell glorious... So f*****g good, I could eat you all day" he said as he took another long sniff from her shorts before dropping it beside her head.