Novel & Cerita Historical Fiction Romance Book

book to a specific page I had marked and handed it to him. "Just read." I watched Lorenzo's reaction, which went from a frown to eyes wide in shock. "What?... is this a p**n book?" "It's not a p**n book," Andrea said in a reprimanding tone. "It's The Señorita!" I said in an admiring sigh followed by Andrea. "This book is about a romance between a Spanish cook and a lady of the aristocracy! A forbidden romance between a rich lady and a commoner! Ahhh..." I sighed. "The writer who wrote this book is anonymous, her pseudonym is Madame Louis. The cover, based on a recipe book, is discreet and is a hit with women!"

For the first time in what felt like forever, the knot in my chest loosened completely. I pulled down a thick historical romance with a brooding duke on the cover, it was exactly the kind Mirabel would tease me about, and sank into one of the leather armchairs. The cushions hugged me perfectly. I kicked off my slippers, tucked my legs beneath me, and opened the book to the first page. The words pulled me in immediately. Rich descriptions, sharp dialogue, the slow burn of forbidden attraction between the heroine and the man who was supposed to be off-limits. I lost track of time, turning pages steadily, the outside world fading until there was only the story unfolding in my hands.

“If it’s the one person who makes your heart race and your blood feel like it’s on fire, then yes. Common sense doesn’t stand much of a chance.” “But what if that person is the worst possible choice?” I asked. “What if he doesn’t respect her, doesn’t love her back, treats her like crap?” “Why are you so worked up?” She snatched the book out of my hands and glanced at the cover. Then she snorted. “Oh. I get it now. You’ve been reading again. A historical romance? Honestly, that’s still an improvement over those creepy occult books you used to read. What, you didn’t like the hero?”

"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."

She glanced down, silently noting that the book in my hands was upside down. I blushed, having not noticed myself, and put the book on the table. I had borrowed it from Leila in an attempt to distract myself from thoughts of escaping. But truth be told, I wasn’t much interested in books, especially not this thick tome on the royal history of Hescor. The only books that had ever captured my interest were the forbidden romance stories I used to find under her nanny’s pillow, filled with dirty language and obscenity. My nanny thought she had hidden them well, but Evelyn had easily discovered them, devouring them in secret whenever I could.

Yeah, join the club. I sighed, wondering just how long I’d be stuck down here. I combed my fingers through my hair, pulling it up into a messy bun on the top of my head. Unruly red curls with a mind of their own fell around my face. My body propped itself up against the wall, my hand reaching for the book that I was currently reading. This was my third time reading “Outlander” by Dianna Gabaldon. Her series was one that I really enjoyed. A twentieth-century nurse went back in time to eighteenth-century Scotland. It was filled with love and loss as well as honor and betrayal. Her writing had it all.

Perhaps all his previous misfortunes were meant to bring the immense luck of him meeting Hannah. Hannah blinked slowly. Something in her mind cleared up. It seemed like she had been too constrained by the book. The book revolved around Misty and Cedric's love story, and the side characters were only there to serve them. However, the world was never as simple as it was depicted in the book. The characters that weren't mentioned in the book were real; the food was real, and the scent of the flowers was real as well. Darren, who was only briefly mentioned in the book, not only didn't pass away at a young age, but he became more successful than everyone else.

Maybe it was just a desperate attempt to feel useful. When I finished, I drIfted to the bookshelf near the fireplace. I scanned the tItles slowly, looking for somethIng light. Anything without mates, romance, or fated connections. The irony wasn’t lost on me, I was trapped in a twisted version of one of those stories. Only in mine, there was no love. No happy ending. Just guilt, betrayal, and aching confusion. I chose a hIstorical novel and curled up by the window. The cardIgan and fuzzy socks I wore kept the cold at bay, at least physically. But my thoughts wouldn’t quiet.

HIS TOUCH, HER FIRE🔥 --- Chapter Two The Warning Beneath the Suit The morning sun barely filtered through the thin curtains of Evelyn’s kitchen window, casting long strips of pale gold across the old wood floor. She stood barefoot on the chilled boards, coffee in hand, hair unbrushed, shirt borrowed from her late father—faded red plaid hanging off one shoulder—and tried to ignore the storm rising in her gut. Last night’s encounter with Damien Romano had not just left her rattled; it had torn something loose inside her. Something dangerous. The man had stepped onto her land like he belonged, like the dirt itself bent beneath his polished shoes, and then he’d spoken with a calm so soaked in a

Anything else. That’s when I remember the library book I should’ve returned weeks ago. The librarian’s probably going to bite my head off—but honestly? I don’t care. I’ve read that book so many times, I could quote it in my sleep. The romance between the Prince of England and the American president’s son… what started as hate turned into something powerful, something unstoppable. A love so intense, not even the gods could break them apart. I dream of a love like that. But in my messy little life, it feels impossible.