Harlequin Romance Novel Covers Mga Nobela at Kwento

For a moment, he says nothing and just stares at it. "The Sultry Siren's Secret Desires: An Erotic Tale of Forbidden Love..." he reads out loud, his voice filling the air between us. I want to dig a hole and die. "What kind of trashy novel is this?" Vincent scoffs. "It's not trashy! It's really good actually," I protest, not sure why I feel the need to defend the book. Vincent arches an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "Good, huh?" He points at the cover. "Then what's with the cheesy cover with some shirtless guy?"

Another novel inspired by my husband and his long-lost first love—the woman who married his brother instead. A “tragic romance.” A “love that defied fate.” A story the world simply refused to let rot in its grave. How touching. “The illustrations are so beautiful!” a girl beside me squealed, clutching the book to her chest. “I’m going to buy it and read all night.” Another chimed in, “I cried just looking at the cover!” Ser Lewis said nothing. Wise man. The shopkeeper finally noticed me. His eyes flicked over my clothes. He found them simple but well-tailored. Understated but expensive. His smile sharpened.

"Let's see what was worth hiding." He pulled the first book over. It was a ledger of some sort, boring and financial. He set it aside. He reached for the second book. It was smaller, bound in cracked red leather. There was no title on the spine, but the cover... Jael went still. "Amalia," he said softly. "Look at this." Amalia leaned in, swallowing a bite of her sandwich. Burned into the leather cover was a drawing. It was stylized, ancient, but the subject was unmistakable. A wolf. A wolf with fur depicted by jagged, flame-like strokes.