Historic Romance Novels Romane & Geschichten

"You like mysteries?" "Sometimes." "Better than romance novels?" My face heated. Had he seen me looking at that shelf? Had he been watching? "Much better," I said firmly. "Romance novels are... unrealistic." Something flickered in his eyes. Amusement maybe. "Are they?" "Yes. All that instant attraction and forbidden desire and enemies becoming lovers. It doesn't work like that in real life." "Doesn't it?" The way he said it—the slight emphasis, the look in his eyes—made my stomach flip.

she chirped, clicking play. As the story unfolded, with its sweeping landscapes and tense romantic dialogue, she felt herself being drawn in. Then came the first intimate scene. It was artfully shot, but raw and passionate. A slow, warm flush began to spread through her body, a familiar ache of arousal coiling deep in her belly.

Roses, a white dress, the guests, the sunshine: it all felt so vivid, yet so surreal. His gaze landed on the empty spot where the bridesmaid should have been, and it all clicked why that seat was unoccupied. Natalie was gone. She was gone forever. She had taken her life. She had done that with his unborn child when she leapt from the 18th floor. It was all because he tampered with her medicine, because he dared her to prove her true love, and because of his whispered lies of forever and always. He did everything to win her heart.

“Why is it so dark? Please, turn on the lights, Anth.” I hesitated before pressing the soft buttons of the light switch and then the room brightened up. I heard her gasp first before my eyes took in the rose petals and unlit candles on the floor and on various pieces of furniture in the living room. My eyes scanned the room and spotted more rose petals, even the ones leading to the bedroom. The romantic setting of the place made my nervousness spike higher than before. “Did you do this?” I pushed every ounce of nervousness from my body and approached her then wrapped my arms around her shoulder. I placed my face against hers then kissed her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin and inhalin

She said. "Come on this is not a marriage proposal, do you think my marriage proposal will be as lame as this? I can be very romantic when I want to be you know." I said and she laughed. "You? Romantic? Okay tell me, how will your marriage proposal be?" She asked. "You'll only get to find out if you accept to date me now so do you?" I asked. "I told you so." She said. "What?" "I told you back then remember? You said you weren't ever going to fall in love, I told you that you will and I'll be here to say I told you so when that happens." She said and I laughed.

“He’d finally found a woman of the same social status after all the trouble, and she had a miscarriage because of me. He must have hated me to the core. It’s already merciful of him to make me leave with nothing.” Christina could not help but mock herself. Matthew felt angry on her behalf. “Tell me, who’s the secret lover?” “It’s his current fiance!” “What?” Matthew’s eyes widened all of a sudden. “Serena was his secret lover back then?”

"Whatever happened to love each other first then... then doing the deed after. Is everyone after physical contact only these days? What about getting to know each other first? Chivalry? Romantic date?" I sighed and stopped spinning, facing my laptop and visiting a bookstore's site to see what books sell. Ah, of course, my book wouldn't be in the top 10, and I didn't hope so; what's staring back at me is the top 10 best-selling books for the week, where five of ten are Erotic Romance books. "And I thought my company wouldn't be like other companies who are after profit; I was wrong. Then again, business is business."

He never shielded me from the heartache in the pages of those books but used them as a tool to teach me about life, history, hopes, and dreams. It wasn’t until my teen years that I discovered my love of romance. What began by dipping my toes into the historical greats affectionately termed ‘bodice rippers’ took on a different tone when I was a senior in high school. I discovered the world of erotic romance. I’d always been taught that literature was a gateway for the imagination so I never dreamed that some people would frown on the romance genre as lower quality literature. After all, with a history of such utter trash like Wuthering Heights and The Old Man and the Sea being named classics,

"Didn't you ask me to tell you about it?" Daniel broke into a cold sweat. Of all the books she could be reading, she had to pick this one. If one drew a parallel, wouldn't he be the heartless male lead? What if she read on and remembered something from the past... By now, Daniel was sweating all over. "Anyway... romance novels use clichés. They’re all about endless love and stuff. They’re not very meaningful," he said with a forced smile. "You don't plan on writing one too, do you?"