New Historical Romance Novels 2014 Novels & Stories

* *“Match 14 — He didn’t come home again. He didn’t even call. I sat with dinner getting cold and kept telling myself he was just busy. But my heart knows he just didn’t care.” *“April 18 — I stood in front of the mirror for an hour, trying to look perfect for him. He glanced at me once and said nothing. It’s like I’m invisible in my own home.”* *“April 26 — I heard him laugh today. Not with me. But with someone else on the phone. That laugh used to be mine.”* *“May 10 — I still love him. God help me, I still do. But love shouldn’t feel like begging for crumbs.”*

"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." "I'm fine." "Liar." But she says it gently, not like Ethan Black did. "Come on, let's get some air." We step onto the balcony. The February night is cold enough to hurt. Sophie lights a cigarette and offers me one. I quit smoking three years from now after Dad comments that it's unladylike. Tonight, I take it. "Your sister is flirting with your boyfriend," Sophie says bluntly. "I know." "And you're just going to let it happen?"

The confidence in his voice only turned up the flame from slow burn to forest fire. He dipped his head and let his lips slide along my throat, igniting yet more flames along the sensitive skin. Bastian paused at the delicate hollow of my throat, right where my pulse was beating out his name. He nipped at my collarbone, sending a tremor of sheer desire straight through my core. I arched my hips, begging him for more. I needed more. I didn't care where we were anymore. I didn't care about the work or the 18th century furniture. All I knew was that I needed him. I needed him more than I had ever needed anyone.

Thank you very much. Love yah all xoxo Phoebe Heather P.S. Here are my other novels, please check them out. Relentless Pursuit of His Lost Love Forever Mine : The President’s Secret Little Wife Stolen Heart: A Marriage on Paper Substitute Groom: Married to an Enemy Love of His Life: The Playboy Fell Head Over Heels In Love Falling In Love With His Prince Charming Again

Absolutely — here’s Chapter Eleven of Falling Between Us, which serves as a soft epilogue in real time. This chapter explores love in motion: not the heat of reunion, but the quiet rhythm of building a life together. It’s about earned peace—the kind of happiness that comes only after the storm. ⸻ Chapter Eleven: All the Quiet Ways Love Stays One year later, Elena’s hands smelled like cedar and paint.

I took in the red silk dress she had on, coupled with the bright red lipstick, her dark hair falling straight down her back. Clarissa was never one for subtlety. I smirked. “It was easy enough to do once we got over you.” She gave me a smirk of her own, grabbing a glass of champagne and muttering a “thank you” to the waiter. “Ahh, yes.” She laughed softly. “Ten years—or is it twelve? I lose count sometimes—and this is your idea of getting over me? Getting married to a younger girl? You wound me, Ric.” My chest tightened. I hadn’t seen this woman in years, and she hadn’t even changed. Not at all. And I hate the fucking rush I felt in my veins from her attitude.

If anyone should be mortified, it’s him—or at least as mortified as his boyfriend, who’s currently blushing like a guilty choirboy. One second earlier or later, and Vanya and I would’ve walked in on a live performance of ‘Why Door Locks Were Invented.’ Guess we missed the climax by that much. And just like that, it’s lights, camera, sex scenes. Again. My brain’s been playing the same genre on loop lately. Maybe Vanya has a point. I should find someone to hook up with. The cute redhead from her Snapchat, the one she swears is queer, might be something.

Only the raw, unfiltered honesty of what they felt for each other. They moved closer together, lips meeting in a kiss that was both gentle and consuming. Ethan’s hands traced the contours of her back, and Ava responded with the same intensity, her fears melting away with every heartbeat. The slow burn of longing that had simmered beneath the surface finally ignited, a fire that neither could deny.

Author’s Note to the Reader Dear Reader, What you are about to step into is not just a love story. It’s a tangled web of passion, betrayal, secrets, and the quiet ache of discovering the truth behind the people we think we know. Jacqueline’s journey is one many of us know too well, the journey of holding on when we should let go, of chasing stability while craving fire, of mistaking comfort for love. Her story unfolds in layers: through the haunting grip of her dreams, the unraveling of a once-promising engagement, and the magnetic pull of a man who exists both in her subconscious and in the shadows of her waking life.

My lips crashed against hers, demanding, forcing her to open up, to give in to me. I felt her stiffen, her breath catching in her throat, but she didn’t pull away. She let me have her, let me take what was mine. I felt the pulse of her heart beneath my touch, erratic and confused, like she was fighting the urge to fight me. But she wouldn’t fight. Not anymore. I knew it. I deepened the kiss, pulling her closer, her body rigid in my arms as I drank from her mouth like a man starved. The taste of her was bitter, like everything else about her—an amalgamation of fear, submission, and something darker, something broken.