Old Love Novels Novels & Stories

I didn't retreat. Me: "Miss Crump, I would like to take you out to that French restaurant you have been reading about that your 'old man' says is too expensive. Then I want to take you back to my place and have my way with you. So, what about it; nouveau haute cuisine and hot love, or another night of Mrs. Paul's partly thawed fish sticks and Lawrence Welk on PBS?" [I cringed, awaiting either mace or a quick call to 9-11.]

“There are blankets downstairs. And extra pillows. So you can make yourself comfortable.” “I will. And I plan to borrow a book or two from your interesting collection.” His eyes are on the bookshelf in my room, which is full of romance novels. “T.L. Smith seems to be one of your favorite authors.” “She is. Her books are dark, sexy, and a little fucked-up. Kind of like you,” I tease, lazily rolling over in his arms. “I am so fucking glad you are mine,” he whispers, holding me tight. “I love you, Callie.”

Out in the yard, a garden of roses was still in bloom. That rose garden had been a surprise gift from 28-year-old Sam. He had told me, “These are Scottish green roses. They represent a love that never fades. Just like mine for you. Hazel, I swear right here in this garden that I’ll never let you down.” I laughed and asked him, “And what if one day you do?” He thought for a moment before replying, “Then you destroy the whole rose garden. And never forgive me.” Now, that garden in my heart, once so vibrant and full of life, had reached the end of its bloom. The petals were falling, one by one.

I continue my work and I have a good progress. I decided to email my proposed title and outline to Ms. Amanda and I’m a bit nervous. I hope she will like it. I’m confident with my work but knowing Ms. Amanda she is a very strict and I don’t know what really catches her attention or what her taste about a novel. I decided to make a romance novel about a girl that left on her wedding day to pursue her dreams and after a long time will meet again her past lover.

Scarlett confidently replied, "Nope, they're fascinating. You'll know if you read them." "I'm not interested." Wayne scoffed. Scarlett pouted, "You just don't appreciate them " "There are many books here, rare editions that I treasure. You're the one who doesn't appreciate them." Wayne was not willing to back down. Neither was Scarlett She'd rather sleep than read those books. She curled up on the sofa and closed her eyes. Wayne, "..." Hadn't she already slept? How could she sleep again? Wayne asked, "Are you a pig?"

I groaned, instantly knowing what she was referring to, "this is the 21st century, things like fated mate and bond already stopped existing." Nana grumbled under her breath as she handed the document back to me, "Regardless of what you say, she's a good girl and I know she'll make a better wife once you guys settle into your married life. You know, there are not that many girls that'd run into the middle of the road to save a woman they didn't know, and to think she's wolfless, her type is really rare to come across."

I’ve got more stories coming your way, full of fire, feels, and unforgettable love. Currently, I have two other exclusive books on GoodNovel you can dive into right now: 🐺 The Bane and The Alpha Beast – A fated-mate, enemies-to-lovers paranormal romance packed with secrets, slow-burn tension, and devastating desire. 🏍️ Claimed By The Biker King – A gritty, dangerous, and deliciously twisted MC romance where love rides right alongside revenge. Make sure to add them to your library and stay tuned—this ride is far from over.

"I don't know. But I'd like to find out." His smile is like a sunrise after the longest night. Sometimes the best love stories aren't about pretending to be someone else. They're about finally being brave enough to be yourself.

The sin he committed so easily while Clarissa likely texted him from her pristine suite. The woman beneath him screamed his name, trembling as she came. He didn’t stop. He fucked through it. I smiled, he's so stubborn just like before. A nostalgia clung to my thoughts. When the two of us were a thing, he never obeyed me. Always finding a way to fuck me. How good he was , how had and huge that cock was. Gosh . This memory alone gives me goosebumps. And just when I thought the scene couldn’t get more depraved, he reached for a bottle of oil, poured it across the thighs of the next girl, and pressed himself between her slick folds.

It was attractive but nothing that screamed “I’m trying to seduce your dad.” I grabbed the carefully wrapped gift I’d gotten for Anna (a beautiful hardcover edition of the romance novel we’d both been obsessing over, plus a cute bookmark set) and headed downstairs just as Bruce’s car pulled up. The drive to their house was filled with light conversation, but his eyes kept flicking to me in the rearview mirror a little too often. Every time our gazes met, heat rushed through me. Anna threw the door open before I could even knock, practically tackling me in a hug.