Old Romance Novel Covers 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?”

Oliver said While we were talking the sales assistant came out with some books put in a wooden box. He opened the wooden box and pulled out some books. He did not allow us to touch them with bare hands, he just put some gloves on his hands and then started taking them out of the box. He had “pride and Prejudice” and “Persuasion & Love and Friendship” written by Jane Austin, he had “Wuthering Heights” written by Emily Jane Bronte and there it was “EMILY OF NEW MOON”. With Frontispiece in Color by M.L. Kirk (SIGNED). This was the book we did not see in the first editions and this was one of them. - I will take this one. He does not have that one does he, Emma? Alice asked

Arielle rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. “Suit yourself.” She wandered into a bookstore nearby. The cool smell of paper and wood filled the small space. For the first time all day, she felt relaxed. No tense silences. No careful conversations. Just quiet. After twenty minutes she returned outside with a book in her hands. Roman glanced at the cover. “Romance?” “Absolutely not.” “Looks suspicious.” “It’s historical fiction.” “Same thing.” Arielle laughed despite herself. “You’re impossible.” Roman opened the car door again.

With my phone dangling in my hand, my gaze moved slowly around the space until it landed on the study table by the window. There were stacks of books, notebooks with pens thrown into a ceramic mug shaped like a cartoon bear. Curiosity nudged at me and against my better judgement, I stood and walked over. The first thing I noticed was the genre of the books. It was Forbidden Romance. Smirking, I picked one up. The cover was dramatic; dark silhouettes, a man in a suit looming behind a woman who looked simultaneously terrified and intrigued. I almost laughed as I flipped it open. Within seconds, I was scanning lines that felt familiar, making me huff quietly.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I prefer the smell of fresh air lately. Could you free up your schedule for my birthday? I have some activities in mind, and I want you to join me.” He nodded, his voice full of affection. “Of course. Whatever you say, darling.” That night, I tossed and turned in bed. Victor’s arm was tightly wrapped around me. When I carefully tried to break free, something fell from his pocket and rolled onto the carpet. I picked it up. It was a lipstick. It had a black shell with embossed gold edges, and it was a bright red that I was very familiar with. It was Summer’s favorite color. Countless people had asked her where she bought that color, but she just smiled and said it was h

He pulled back just enough to speak, lips shiny. “Your husband probably thinks you're too old for this. Bet he's never seen you this soaked. Never heard the way you moan when someone else is in control.” He was right. So fucking right. I had never gotten this wet for my husband. I do get wet, though, but not dripping like this. It was because he never did foreplay. He just went straight into sex, and I hated it, because I loved being touched the way Nikolai was touching me right now.

His lips curved slightly. "I'm Albert Craig." I folded my arms. "Lucy George." "Yes." The answer came a little too quickly. As if he already knew everything about me. Which, honestly, was becoming increasingly obvious. A long silence followed. Finally, Albert gestured toward the open door. "Would you like to continue this conversation in the hallway?" I glanced around. Then sighed. Unfortunately, he had a point. Reluctantly, I stepped inside. The suite was larger than my entire apartment. Possibly larger than my parents' house. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city skyline. Modern furniture filled the room. Everything looked expensive. Very expensive.

Why does everybody have an affair? And why am I not even surprised anymore? Is this another plot twist? Who's that author again? Starlynx? More like Starshit. It was clearly written on the cover that this was supposed to be a heartwarming romance story. Heartwarming my ass. That author really needs to be sent to a temple or something to repent for her sin. She was truly a fraud.

he said, crawling into bed alongside her. "She asked what symbols we want to have in the decor. I didn't know love came in fonts." "Of course it does. Ours is. Times New Romance." She hit him over the head with a pillow. "That was awful." "And yet, you're marrying me." They got comfortable, her head on his shoulder as he thumbed through the binder with her. "I prefer this one," he said, pointing to a piece of cream-colored linen with gold edging. "It feels… warm. Elegant."

Crystal asked, a hint of amusement in her tone as she noticed Arielle stepping closer to her. Arielle leaned in slightly and whispered, “Grandmother has a… unique taste in horror movies.” Crystal chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. “That she does,” she replied. As Arielle’s gaze fell on the book in Crystal’s hands, her face lit up with rare excitement. “Maa, do you like historical romance?” she asked, her voice brimming with curiosity. Crystal tilted the book to show the cover and replied, “I like anything by this author.” She paused, taken aback by Arielle’s sudden enthusiasm.