Funny Historical Romance Novels & Stories

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

It was music to my ears, and I just can't stop smiling. "Are you done, now, Your Highness?" I looked at him, mocking irritation, as he held his stomach. I don't know what's funny, but he seemed to be having the time of his life. "Yeah…yeah, sorry," he said, in between little laughs. "Ahh, I haven't laughed that hard in a long time." "I'm glad I made you laugh at my flirting skills, My Liege," I said, curtsying dramatically. "Oh, it's not your flirting skills, Skye. And I can't be a judge of that," he wiped away tears.

"Nanny, please. Don’t remind me. I’m trying to forget that ever happened." "Forget? Oh no, my dear. You can't forget something like that. This is fate, darling! You slept with him, and now he’s your boss? You couldn't write a better romance novel if you tried!" she exclaims, practically bouncing in her seat. I stab at my food. "This isn’t a romance novel, Nanny. This is my life, and I’m just trying to do my job without embarrassing myself."

It was Helen, staring at his face. A knot tightened in my stomach as I approached them. "Excuse me, but it seems you have an unrequited interest in my husband," I said, lowering my phone. She turned to me and smiled, wearing that annoying poker face of hers. "You might see it that way, but you know, Rachel, we have a long history," she said in a tone that made me want to wipe that smirk off her face. I should be focused on figuring out what their history is so I can use it against Leo, but why do I feel so uncomfortable?

Nah, he doesn't look more than four. Did Louisa move on immediately he left New York for Australia five years ago? Is she that cold-hearted? it can't be. Although it turned out to be based on deceit, their love was intense and very reciprocal while it lasted. He had never seen anyone love as hard as she did. So, the possibility of her getting into another romantic affair immediately after him is low. Kingsley steps into the back seat of his silver Lamborghini, releasing the top button of his tuxedo for comfort. Hardy closes the door after him and then turns around to put the car in motion.

He hadn’t come near her all night. She took a sip of champagne. Then another. Ava appeared like a shadow slipping through the crowd, her seafoam-green gown flowing effortlessly. “Well, if it isn’t the charity case turned arm candy,” Ava said, voice dripping venom. Serena’s grip tightened on her glass. “Still bitter, huh?” Aidan showed up beside Ava, a fake smile pasted on his face. “Long time, Serena.” She gave a cool smile. “I’d say I missed you, but I’ve been too busy living.”

“You know what? If there were an award for being a fool and a martyr wife, you’d probably be one of the nominees.” I laughed softly at what she said and shook my head. “I hate you,” I said, pouting once again. Gemma grinned. “But my husband loves me.” I pouted even more. “You really are a good friend, aren’t you?” I said sarcastically. “Instead of cheering me up, you’re just bringing me down. So much for being a best friend.” Gemma laughed out loud. “I’m just telling the truth. My husband really loves me.”

Seraphine visibly relaxed, and that was a mistake for her because my smile widened. "And do you know the funny thing?" Her smile faltered. I continued. "He was already making me feel safe long before the assassination." Seraphine's face froze. Marcelo's jaw tightened. I rested my chin lightly on my hand, almost dreamy. "Long before the divorce." Lady Cordelia's eyes widened. Several noblewomen leaned forward. This wasn't about scandal. This was becoming a love story, and nobles loved romance almost as much as they loved gossip.

“She’s also fiesty and fiery and did everything I told her not to.” I couldn’t help but smile. Terzo, the mafia, was in love and married to the love of his life. I didn’t meet this kind of person every day. “Why are you smiling?” Spade’s amused voice and his grasp on my thigh caught my attention. I looked at him. “Don’t you see it? It’s romantic. It’s a good plot for a N*****x movie.” “See?” Terzo looked at the couple. “I saw it coming. I just didn’t think it would be sooner.”