Funny Historical Romance Novels & Stories

The gesture lasted two seconds. Cara looked at the fire. They sat together until four. Robert talked about his wife. About the garden she had planted and the specific way she had laughed and a trip they had taken to Portugal in 1974 that had gone wrong in three different ways and had been the best holiday of his life. Cara listened. Not performing attention. Actually listening. Holding his stories carefully the way you held things that were being given to you for safekeeping. At four his eyes began to close between sentences.

she said with a wink, settling beside me on the couch and pulling a fuzzy blanket over us both. She queued up the movie on her TV, the opening credits filling the room with upbeat music. As the story unfolded lighthearted banter, stolen glances, the kind of sweet romance that made your heart flutter—I tried to lose myself in it. Mira laughed at the jokes, nudging me with her elbow, but I could only manage faint smiles. My mind wandered back to Zayden, to the way his touch had once felt like safety, now tainted by blood.

Raphael, filthy, and incredibly mischievous. The thought of the discreet encounters they could have all day long makes her gasp for air. As Jannis's thoughts swirl with the limitless potential of their clandestine romance, her pulse beats with excitement. In response to Jannis's excitement, Jake chuckles softly. He gives her buttocks a good smack and squeezes them together. You're being quite mischievous, my dear. However, I adore it.

The 24-year-old woman sighed in relief and tried to get out of her husband's grip, even with super extra strength. Finally ... "Uh..." Rena sighed. When she felt that his groin hurt, this was not the first time Romeo acted violently. Even though he repeatedly reminded Romeo to keep playing gently, he didn't seem to want to obey. "I have to take a hot bath. I know he has a lot of energy, but if I continue like this, I'm sure my bones will break." Rena snorted and left Romeo, still sleeping in his dream world. When Rena was about to take a towel from the top cupboard, she accidentally dropped a brown paper. Paper rolled like a letter in medieval times.

"That, Adam's words prove to be a curse for me until now." Yara clenched her fists that were under the table. She remembers the words of Adam, her first love and first ex boyfriend in high school when they broke up. "I swear you won't be able to date forever. Anyway, you won't be able to get married until you can see me on the aisle."

" What am I going to do now? should I apologise or what?" " Yes you should and make it romantic" Mr DiCaprio "Michael does the gym offer still open?"

I don’t believe that shit at all and it doesn’t help that they burst out laughing at the look on my face when Loyalty says, “I love lilies” “I know that baby girl, but isn’t that something they do on school trips, not dates”, I tell her, since I still don’t believe that’s what they did. I mean if they did, that’s sort of romantic yet corny as fuck at the same time! Jonny just rolls his eyes. “Spin, sometimes I swear you don’t have a romantic bone in your whole body”, she says to me. “My romantic bone is soft at the moment since you’re sitting on another man’s lap, baby girl”, I tell her as Jonny pulls Loyalty into him to muffle his laughter. “Not funny, Knight”!

"She's out to get me. She faked her death. She faked the whole dramatic exit. She'll show up once I've paid my dues." He clung to that belief. It was all he had. Even if the love he felt was nothing but a side effect of some drug. Even if that love had curdled into something dark. Nora was beside herself, crying next to him. Francis watched her, and after a long pause, a sly grin spread across his face. "Yeah, Natalie loved me. She'd come running back the second she heard I was off the market." Nora, eyes red and swollen, looked up at Francis on bended knee and heard him say softly, "Nora, let's go ahead with the wedding, okay?

I asked Amelia quietly as we sat in a conference room as cold as a morgue. She bit her thumbnail. Classic sign of stress. Or defeat. Or both. “He once owned a place in Nice I didn’t even know about until a year into the marriage. You really think that was the only one he kept secret?” I nodded slowly. “So we’re treating this whole report like... historical fiction?” She gave a weak smile. “Welcome to elite marriage. Where money and lies sleep in the same bed.” The door opened. Zane Romano walked in, Vivienne Duclair trailing behind him. They looked like they’d stepped off a legal thriller movie poster—plus the smell of overpriced cologne and egos the size of a helipad.

Francesca knew this was a no-brainer, of the two men, one was a fifty-one-year-old widow and the other a twenty-eight-year-old bachelor. "Ah, Asher Evans it is then, I'll set a date for your first meet with him," Francesca declared when Joan picks the twenty-eight-year-old bachelor. Although Francesca thought it was quite unfortunate that her niece should go on a date with the wicked rascal, she had to concede, desperate times, desperate measures. "I don't understand, why would I go on a date with him?" "I told you it's an old tradition, it's an alliance between families, a marriage of opportunity, but who knows, it might spark some romance you desperately need in your life," Francesca state