Matchmaking Books Novels & Stories

"Hand over 750 grand, and I'll vanish. Refuse, and I'll haunt you every waking moment." Like father, like son, both had dollar signs for souls. I snapped my fingers, and my muscle stepped out of the shadows, disarmed Matthias, and gave him a taste of his own medicine. He did not last long before he was sprawled out, howling on the ground. I strolled up, spat on him, and made it clear, "Cross my path again, and it's another beating, guaranteed." Two months later, I tied the knot with my assistant, Wendy Gibson. We threw one hell of a bash.

As she stepped out of the library, however, something caught her attention. At the far end of the hallway, a small figure was running away as fast as her little legs could carry her. And if she wasn't mistaken, she could hear a tiny giggle echoing through the hallway. Graziel frowned. "Junie?" But the little girl had already disappeared around the corner. She never saw the wide, mischievous smile spread across Junie's face as she ran away. The little matchmaker had just completed another successful mission.

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“Jace, I thought we were friends!” He rolls his eyes, and I sigh. “Fine, fine!” I walk over to the matchmaker’s table, trying to compose myself. I have no idea what to expect, but I can’t let my nerves get the better of me. I owe it to myself to give this a shot. After all, how else will I ever find my true mate? The matchmaker hands me a stack of photos, each one featuring a different man. As I flip through them, I can feel Jace’s eyes boring into me. It’s like he’s trying to read my mind, trying to figure out what I’m thinking.

The smell of new books has kept enticing a chunk of the population, albeit a smaller percentage, and mostly, people who buy from us are collectors, those who are too rich to spend money on things of the past–and that's what we offer: old, tanning books with worn out spines; a remnant of the past, a time when HarmonyMatch was never a thing. I man the register for a couple of old folks who got a stack of magazines. I smiled as they walked out the store, his hands on her shoulder, both smiling as they talked about their purchase. I thought about how they were Matched, whether they knew each other before the ceremony, if they were childhood sweethearts, or if they were familiar faces you see on

“I haven’t found a particular favourite yet.” Edward had a few well liked fantasy stories so they spent a pleasurable time discussing books and trading suggestions. “Who really likes Harlequin romance novels?” he asked after spotting a shelf that was completely full of white and red book spines. He had been surprised to discover his mother had a stash of Harlequin novels on her side of his parents’ bedroom. The titles of the stories had followed a similar theme like ‘The Billionaire’s Secret Wife’, ‘Forced Marriage’ or “The CEO’s Mistress’. It hadn’t taken him long to work out that they were slushy romantic novels with lurid covers.

Yet, on the other hand, I couldn't ignore the nagging voice within me that demanded more—more than just a superficial show of dominance and control. During this time, I sought solace in the presence of Hera, my loyal friend and confidante. She shared my frustrations and understood the depths of my desires. Together, we delved into the ancient lore surrounding mate bonds, seeking answers and guidance from the wisdom of our ancestors. Through our research, we uncovered a truth that had been hidden from Lorcan's eyes—the true nature of a mate bond and the profound impact it had on both partners. It wasn't merely about asserting dominance or fulfilling societal expectations. A mate bond was a sa

Curiosity was eating at her. With an effort, she made herself focus on the other titles. He had books on negotiating, battle tactics, history, agriculture…boring. Didn’t the man read any fiction? There was a book on stained glass that looked mildly interesting, but she kept scanning the shelves, hoping for something more enticing. Her search was rewarded. There, right in the middle of his shelves at eye level, was an entire shelf of books devoted to lovemaking. Wiley’s eyes boggled as she read the titles: An Illustrated Guide to the Sensual Arts. A Woman’s Climax. Emotional Need and the Sensual Virgin. There were dozens of titles.

His unwavering gaze sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. "And of course," I continued, my voice dipping lower, more intimate, "this is only the third time we have arranged the Obsidian Suite." The mention of it sent a ripple of excitement through the room. The nervous woman at the front straightened, her eyes widening with interest. "The Obsidian Suite offers something... different." I traced my finger along the edge of the podium. "Book it, and our proprietary algorithm will match you with your perfect partner from within our network. You'll have no idea who they are until you meet them in the suite itself. The environment adapts to your combined preferences, creating something entirely

The air smelled of old paper and history. I wandered through the aisles, searching for anything related to mate bonds. There had to be something here. Some record of how to sever an incomplete connection. I found an entire section dedicated to mating. Books about the history of bonds, the rituals involved, the sacred nature of the connection between destined pairs. I pulled volume after volume from the shelves, flipping through pages desperately. "The Eternal Bond: Understanding Your Destined Mate." Nothing useful. "Mating Rituals Through the Ages." Nothing. "The Unbreakable Thread: Why Mate Bonds Cannot Be Severed."