Historical Romance Books Novels & Stories

At the bottom of the shelf, though, were a handful of romance novels—in English, no less. I pulled out a historical romance by a favorite author of mine. I hadn’t read this one, and I’d already finished the one romance I’d brought with me. I was a total bore and preferred to read printed books still. Probably because they smelled nice. If e-readers could let out a puff of new-book scent, though, I’d buy one in a heartbeat. “The Seduction of Miss Emily Morris,” Olivier read over my shoulder. “That rather gives the plot away, no?”

She should have been declared an angel for her commendable feat. She walked around the counter throwing a pile of romance books to Cain that she watched the girls in her pack read, she wasn’t going to help him choose because she wasn’t one to waste her time reading fantasies when she had more important things to think about, like how to find her parents and save them. Bet an erotic romance wasn’t going to help her in easing the swirl of emotions that she was going through at the moment. Walking past the aisles, she browsed through several historical and poetry books before her gaze fell on the aisle that was stacked with cooking books.

she decided, needing a distraction from the silence. She changed into a soft, sleeveless beige knit dress that fell to her mid-thigh. She got comfortable in the center of her large bed, propping her laptop on a pillow and scrolling through a streaming service, her boredom making her restless. She needed something immersive. Her cursor hovered over a popular, steamy historical drama known for its explicit scenes. “Perfect,” she chirped, clicking play.

“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?”

I was pretty good at it and at the urging of my then girlfriend Julie, had submitted a few to a story site named Erotic escapes where under the pen name hotforteacher I'd gotten some pretty good reviews. Most of my stories were about older women with guys my age and Miss Ross had been the inspiration for many of them. Most of my female leads had the same long dark hair, big brown eyes and perfect full lips as my favorite English teacher. Yes Miss Ross had been the nasty little cougar in my mind and in print many times over the last few months. Shit, I'd even joined her writing discussion group because it met every other Sunday at her house.

I watch intently with my brows raised as he removes a sizable oil painting from its place on the wall, unveiling a hidden safe that had been seamlessly integrated into the structure. I pivot on my heel and survey the colossal collection of books that had escaped my memory until now. The tips of my fingers delicately graze the uppermost edges of the book spines as my eyes glide over the titles. My fingers hover over one book in particular. It's a book that is very improper in Alessandros’ collection. This book is a historical romance novel written by Sylvia Day. One of Roses’ all-time favourite authors. Curiosity gets the better of me and I start to slide the book out, “come here, tesoro.” I

Then she remembered- while she was exploring her room, she had seen one of the cupboards that had books in it, and she went in search of one. She found a few titles and decided to stick to some historical romance she found, about the Comanche warriors and blood moons, Texans, war and the Prairie. It was just as she sat down that she heard Charity's familiar knocking pattern. Pulling open the door, she saw her friends and ushered them in.

I hope to touch base with you on social media soon! About the Author Multi-genre author of Victorian maritime romance/family saga, Heiresses in Love, and 18 other books. Marie Lavender lives in the Midwest with her family and two cats. She has been writing for a little over twenty-five years, with more works in progress than she can count on two hands. Since 2010, Marie has published 21 books in the genres of historical romance, contemporary romance, romantic comedy, romantic suspense, paranormal romance, dramatic fiction, fantasy, science fiction, mystery/thriller, literary fiction and poetry.

Rose needed some space between her and this rugged Scottish man she had started developing feelings for! Rose: As I relaxed into the room, and set about removing my traveling clothes…. I couldn’t help think back to these new feelings and wanton behaviors to do with Sean. It has been 4 months! You’d think a gal could keep her head in the game, especially with some man that is working for my family… what is happening to me?!

“It sounds… like it should be yours, only yours. ‘Mon amour.’ My love.” I blushed, my heart pounding in my chest. “You know I don’t speak French.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “Then I will teach you… one kiss at a time.” I laughed, a trembling, delicate sound. He pulled me into his arms, holding me so close I could feel the strength of his desire, the depth of his longing that he had never released. His fingers drifted over my skin, tracing patterns I had never known I knew. Every caress was a poem. Every caress was a confession.