English Romantic Novels Novels & Stories

He would put on an apron and research recipes whenever I said I had no appetite, and he would hold me and sing me lullabies whenever I could not sleep. They said the heir to the mafia family was cold and heartless, because he saved all his warmth for me. I once thought his warmth was mine forever, too. Now, though, I knew that this marriage was just another way for him to shield and protect Summer. “Oh, right,” Victor said casually, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear.

Long enough for me to remember who I was before I met him. Turns out, I actually like romance novels. Not the tasteful literary romances Kenneth approved of. I’m talking absolutely shameless books with shirtless men on the covers, morally questionable billionaires, ridiculous amounts of tension, and enough spice to qualify as attempted arson. The kind Kenneth used to wrinkle his nose at. “Those books rot your brain, Jo.” Funny. I don’t think the books were the problem. I’ve also rediscovered cheesy rom-coms and psychological thrillers, all the goodies that Kenneth never agreed to watch with me because they were “too stupid” (the romcoms) and “too complicated” (the psych thrillers).

Back then, he had used this trick to win over her heart too. Looking back, she finally realized how stupid she was before. A man’s promise was only a lie. All the romantic gestures were traps to bedazzle the woman’s heart. The corners of her lips twitched into a sardonic smile as she held the bouquet of flowers. Matthew thought success was near upon seeing her smile. Immediately, he did as he had rehearsed before and led her toward the hall that was covered with fresh flowers. He readjusted his emotions, knelt one knee, and held her hands. “Christina, I like you. Be my girlfriend.”

Lance was already planning on the things he wants to do at the mall. One afternoon, Charm asked me to go around with her before going home. She looked so sad and distracted. We went to the Square and checked out the new stores and ate pizza. She told me she broke up with Franco. They had a misunderstanding and she's not really very patient. I was upset. I really liked Franco. He seemed so dependable, kind, and smart. "I think I got bored. I was looking again for excitement. Our relationship just went through that comfortable phase." Charm picked on her food. I retorted, "He's such a nice boy. He is exactly what you need. I don't know what else you are looking for." I wanted to kick her. I

Infatuated How does one know if they really, really, really like person? All night, I've been re-reading romance novels I've read. Jane Austen, F. Scott Fitzgerald, even William Shakespeare. All of the things I've read brought me to one ridiculous hypothesis. "I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun." – Elizabeth Bennet (Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen)

And we can look at instances such as - calling yourselves romantic names rather than your real names". I scoffed and almost laughed and Ryan noticed. Romantic names indeed. "Yes - it's one of the spices of a relationship. You shouldn't just go ahead calling each other by your names. You can make use of something like baby, sugar, sweetheart, love, and all that..." "Ma'am" I suddenly cut in and raised my hand. Oh, God! I didn't even realize when I did that. "Yes ma'am Bethel? Do you have something to say?" The counselor asked and I slowly stood up.

" I reply. "We'll see. The heroine always denies her feelings at first in most romance novels. " she coos. "That's not true! And even if This Mansion were to be a novel, I'm pretty sure it would be horror and not romance! " I shot. "That's true. But who says a little romance isn't allowed in a horror novel? " she coos while wiggling her brows at me. "You're nuts! " I reply as I roll my eyes and look away while she just laughs.

Alex sat down at his desk, turned on the light, and began reading. Eight hours later, he finished the final chapter. Alex was no expert on romance novels, but Rachel’s writing could convince him to become an avid fan. She was good. Damn good, he thought, but an important element seemed to be lacking. Rachel’s descriptions and dialogue were colorful and dramatic, but, in Alex’s opinion, the leading male character was a bit bland, and he lacked any real emotional depth for a romantic hero. The main female character was a strong, independent and highly sensual woman, but there was no believable chemistry between the two of them. Alex could also tell by her description of the country setting tha

“Sophia loves reading novels—romance novels—but just like what I said, she is actually dense and almost oblivious with the men around her. It would seem that she is more fixated with the idea of what she reads rather than real men, but, of course, I can’t say that she has not had a real boyfriend ever…”

She curled into one of the high-backed chairs near the window, a thick book open on her lap, a dark romantic comedy she’d read a thousand times. The sun was setting in orange and purple across the pages. She told herself she was reading. In truth she was still feeling Roman between her thighs from the shower, every shift of her hips reminding her how he did everything but fuck her. The door opened without a knock. Roman stepped in, closing it softly behind him. Shirt sleeves rolled to the elbow, top two buttons undone, looking too innocent for who he truly was. He looked unfairly edible. Tessa didn’t even look up from her book.