Most Romantic Books Ever Novels & Stories

“She’ll probably spend the whole holiday in here if you let her.” I walked the aisles slowly, trailing my fingers over the books. Classics. Thrillers. A whole section of contemporary romance—Mirabel’s doing, mostly. She’d started collecting them in high school, said they were “escapist but smart.” I’d never read them. Too many happy endings. Too much hope wrapped in pretty words. I pulled one down at random. Dark cover, brooding man in a suit, and title written in gold foil: Claimed by the Billionaire. I snorted softly, then slid it back.

But Arabella’s heart had already begun beating far too quickly. A breeze moved softly through the marketplace between them. Neither spoke for several moments. Then Edwin finally gestured toward the bookstore. “Do you enjoy reading?” “Yes.” “What sort of books?” Arabella hesitated. “Poetry mostly.” One dark brow lifted slightly. “Romantic poetry?” Her cheeks warmed instantly. “Sometimes.” Edwin looked dangerously amused again. “You continue to surprise me, Lady Arabella.” “And you continue mocking me.” “Only because you blush so beautifully.” The words escaped him so naturally that both of them froze afterward.

Susan blushed, and Alexei tilted his head, curious. “Weird books? Now I’m interested.” “They’re just fiction. Suspense, mystery… Sometimes romance.” She shrugged modestly. “Romance?” He raised an eyebrow. “The sugary kind or the ones that keep you up all night reading?” She bit her lip, thoughtful. “The ones that make you think. I like imperfect characters. Relationships that are built over time. Real feelings, you know?” Alexei’s smile remained, but his eyes grew more attentive. “You don’t believe much in instant passions?”

Amazing, what is a better way to distract yourself than reading some dark romance books filled with smut. I got in the library and instantly felt a bit calm. Grabbing my favourite four books I got seated in a cosy comfortable corner, and started reading. An hour later I closed the fourth book in my hands as I groaned frustratingly. For god sake what's wrong with me? I couldn't even read a single book completely. I tried to read them for fifteen minutes and then put them aside while picking up another book. All of these books are my fucking comfort favourite books that I have re-read for so many times. The books whose MMC are my, to heart, book boyfriends.

George said, "What?" Lucas asked, "A love novels catalogue?" Charles asked, "Did you send it to the wrong place? Did you actually plan to send it to your girlfriend instead?" Christin said, "Girls like to read domineering CEO related romance novels. Dear guys, please read them carefully, study them, and try your best to please or flatter your wife. This is a catalogue of a collection of series I specially chose of storylines about how to spoil the girlfriend. I excluded those storylines that break somebody's heart as I definitely couldn't bear to do that.

“That’s a weirdly romantic thing to say.” He shrugged. “Weirdly romantic is kind of my thing.” She blushed, tucking the book under her arm. “We should find something you’d like.” They drifted through the aisles together, pulling out titles, comparing tastes—him more into thrillers and old philosophy books, her favoring modern poetry and angsty novels. At one point, he challenged her to find the oldest book in the store. She found one with a broken spine and scribbled notes in the margins dated back to the 1950s. He kissed her cheek when she handed it to him, whispering, “Beautiful and clever.”

Kaya was reading her favourite romance book while leaning against her headboard. It was the time of the night. They both had gotten done with their dinner. He was in his room and Kaya was in hers, so she decided to read her favourite romance book as she was not feeling like sleeping yet. She had read this book before but now it was hitting her differently. It was giving her a totally new feeling because now she had found the love of her life. She loved reading romantic books because she believed in love and when she had finally found her love, reading about love was giving her so many butterflies inside her tummy. She turned the page and now the erotic content of the book began. Even though

They lay down together, their bodies entwined, and for the first time in her life, Celess felt truly alive. Over the next few hours, they explored each other's bodies, learning every curve and angle until they knew each other intimately. It was a night of passion and romance, the kind that they would both remember for the rest of their lives. As the sun began to rise, they lay together in a tangle of limbs and sheets, their breaths coming in soft, contented sighs. For a moment, there was nothing in the world but the two of them, lost in their own little world of love and desire.

Only the pages of her favorite books did portray what true love looked like. The ideology of love was written in ink and laid to rest in the warm pages of hard, leather jacket books which were found in the cold, dusty shelf of an old library. There it laid, buried and not to be exhumed. What made her think mere mortals could find love? Romeo and Juliet's love story was one hell of a kind but it would never be real. At least, not in her lifetime or anyone else's.

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?”