Gothic Romance Books Novels & Stories

​She hit the search button, half hoping to find hidden scientific articles, government conspiracies, or at least news about a rare genetic disorder that caused sufferers to grow excessive hair and howl at the full moon. ​However, her search results were instead flooded with rows of digital book covers featuring shirtless, muscular men and fragile-looking women under the moonlight. ​They all pointed to links for online romance novels. ​Nichole scrolled down her screen, reading the titles inwardly with her eyebrows knitting closer together. ​"Bride for the Alpha" ​"The Wolf CEO's Human Mate" ​"Rejected by the Cruel Alpha" ​"Entangled in the Possessive Lycan's Forbidden Love"

But what drew me most to this garden was the abundance of rose bushes, all in various colors—pink, yellow, blue, and red. They were all so beautiful I couldn’t stop admiring them. I plucked one and brought it to my nose. The scent took me back to my dream of that boy with heterochromia eyes, and I smiled, missing him already. Would he appear again in my dream? Would he still smile at me like before? Would he— “What are you doing here?” I startled at the sudden intrusion and snapped my eyes open to see Lorenzo glaring at me. He had his hand wrapped around my wrist, and I could feel his wrath in waves.

"You have a fire in your soul, Celess. A passion for life that I find... intoxicating. I wanted to share that with you." Celess felt her heart racing in her chest. She had always been drawn to danger, but this was different. This was the ultimate forbidden romance, and she didn't know if she was ready for it. But as she looked into Steve's dark eyes, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew that she wanted to spend it with him. Without a word, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Steve's neck, pressing her lips to his in a fierce, passionate kiss. As they kissed, she felt like she was finally home.

He started to help her unpack her books, glancing at the spines as they started to shelve them in a tiny bookshelf that wouldn’t hold even half of her collection. Jane Austen, Charlotte Brontë, Elizabeth Gaskell, John Keats, Shakespeare, Virginia Woolf, Charles Dickens—so many books, most of which had clearly been read over and over again. Some were falling apart, barely glued together. When he took out a copy of Frankenstein, the cover fell off entirely. “Oh, poor guy. This one has been through a lot.” Rose took the book from him, smiling. That smile burst something inside him. Something hot, something dangerous. Something that felt exactly like longing. He caught his breath and forced hims

And I only have one attempt left until the alarm attached to it goes off…. Ughhhh, why does it have to be so complicated. What's in there anyway? That requires a passcode. I think deeply before I input the date they got married and bingo…. It unlocked. Mennnnnmn, this man's so in love. I opened the door to see different dark romance books. Damn! Who could have thought that my stepdad is into these things. Hmmm, if I read here I will get caught and it won't be a funny experience. So I took three: The ritual, hunting adeline, and captive in the dark. I glanced through it, saw the disclaimer and I just feel like I would love it. I raised my bodycon and placed them in my panty line, closed the s

He could smell her perfume, it was the first time he had noticed how sexual the scent was, as if was designed to attract men like a flower’s nectar attracts bees. Her face was coming nearer, her eyes connecting to his like limpets. Her mouth was ajar, her lips red like rubies. He descended the few inches which separated, his own mouth opening. They met, kissing passionately, tongues probing forward, exploring and teasing each other, their mouths trying to engulf the other, the lips both pressed together and moving around. His hands went lower over her ass cheeks, squeezing and cupping the round rump, as she too pulled him closer, her hands clamped together at the back of his neck.

I didn’t hesitate. I pulled Fifty Shades of Grey first (cliché, yes, but I needed an entry point), then The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty by Anne Rice, Story of O, a slim volume called The New Topping Book just to balance it out, and two anthologies with titles like Bound Hearts and Surrender to Me. The stack felt heavy in my arms, like contraband. I carried them to the my corner and hid them under the table. I sat down, and opened the first book.

Rice herself wrote several more books in what subsequently became known as the Vampire Chronicles, some of which were later adapted for film. The vampire as a misunderstood romantic hero picked up steam in the later part of the 20th century, particularly in the United States. In 1978 Chelsea Quinn Yarbro began publishing her series of Count Saint-Germain books, the main character of which is a vampire of moral character whose bite is an erotic experience. In many tales vampires are characterized as promiscuous, their appetite for human blood paralleling their sexual appetite. In 1991 Lori Herter published Obsession, one of the first vampire novels to be categorized as romance rather than sci

I needed to cut her off. "Look, they're doing the walking around the fire thing." She said. I hummed non committal. "I read about it in this book by Drethi Anis. Five thousand nights of obsession. The book was so good." "You read?" I asked. I had never seen any book in her apartment or caught her with a book. "Yes." She blushed, then quietly. "Romance books." "You don't strike me as the romance type." I looked at her intently. "Is it one of those raunchy books with shirtless men carrying scabbards on the cover."

I lifted my hands to his chest, pressed against the warmth of him, and whispered, “I love you, Ethan. I’ve always—” He quieted me with his lips. A slow, sensual kiss that was full of morning, full of sunlight, full of home. The way he kissed me now wasn’t rushed or needy. It was almost...sacred. The kind of kiss that seeps into your very soul and stays there. I wrapped my arms around him, pressing against him as if I could never get close enough. “I’ve been dreaming of this,” he whispered between kisses. “Of you in my arms like this. No walls. No fear. Just us.”