Paranormal Love Story Books Novels & Stories

I couldn't sleep again immediately after Milo’s call so I reached out to my nightstand and picked up the book I’d started earlier in the week: an anthology of paranormal romance stories. I had continued to read everything I could lay my hands on about werewolf shifters. And recently I decided to buy a few paperback of paranormal romance. I flipped through the pages until I found Story Five. It was just three chapters, I noted with a small smile. Perfect, by the time I finished with it, I was sure I would doze off.

I said, then shooed them away. A couple of minutes after they left, while I had immersed myself in the book I was reading, I felt a presence hover over me. Judging from the way the person’s shadow practically covered my entire figure, I could tell it was a man. I put my bookmark on the page I was reading, closed the book, then took off my sunglasses and looked up to see who it was that had decided to disturb my peace. “Colleen Hoover,” he said, reading the name of the author of the book in my hands. “My sister loves her books”.

I whimpered, sweat dripping down my forehead. His lips moved to my neck, as he bathed it with kisses. My eyes fluttered open and I could see lust in his eyes as he slowly dragged down my towel. I felt nervous, and I tried to stop him but couldn't. I felt my body weak, asking him to take control and bend me to his will. As if he had a telepathic power, he read my dirty mind and lifted me in the air, my head relaxing on his muscles. Forcefully, yet carefully, he dropped me on the bed.

Betty filled my coffee cup. I wiped a crusty cluster of sediment from the corner of my eyes and mumbled, "Thank you." She gave me a sad smile and shuffled back into the stacks. I groaned, sipping coffee the consistency of motor oil. Time to get back to work. I sure as hell wasn't going to leave it alone. Not when I was so close to the answers I wanted. Fire brewed in my belly. I picked up the book in front of me. A demonology book. The history of incubi.

He might kick me out and I would just die. “This is amazing,” I managed to whisper, still breathless at the sight. “You like it?” “Like it?” My amazement hung in my voice, and I spun on my heels to face Dante, who was leaning at the door. “Are you kidding me? I am in love with it. It’s like heaven on earth.” The corner of Dante’s lips twitched. “The best part is that more than half of the books are horror, thriller and paranormal.” “No fricken way!” My jaw dropped, and I held back the girlie squeal that hung in my throat. And I thought this place couldn’t get any better.

I sat curled on the bed with a book in my hands, but I had been reading the same page for nearly twenty minutes. Because every few seconds, my thoughts drifted back to him again. His hands are gripping my waist. His mouth against mine. The rough sound of my name leaving his lips. I groaned softly and buried my face into the pillow. “This is a disaster.” I was losing my mind. And honestly? Sebastian probably knew it too. That arrogant man always looked at me like he could read every dirty thought in my head. By evening, the rain started again. Heavy. Violent. The loud sound of thunder echoed across the mansion while lightning flashed through the large windows.

She had never been touched, never been spoken to like this, and certainly never been exposed to something so raw and forbidden. “Look at you, Chloe,” I purred, my voice dropping into a velvety, hypnotic whisper as I reached up and gently pushed her thick glasses higher up her nose. “Your heart is beating so hard I can see it through your cardigan. Your hands are shaking.” “I—I’m just scared,” she whispered, her wide eyes locked onto mine, completely paralyzed. “You’re not just scared,” I murmured, my hand sliding slowly down her shoulder, trailing over her arm until I gently took her trembling wrist. “You saw something you were never supposed to see, didn’t you? And now you don’t know what t

The Gnarlroot fed on a century of lost heartbreak. Back at the blight line, Liora knelt with purpose, she pricked her finger and let a drop of blood fall on the page, then the journal shimmered. “Tell the story,” she whispered to the earth. “I’m listening.” She didn’t say it aloud; she only poured the tale, the love, betrayal, and curse into the journal. The ink swirled, not into words, but ghostly pictures of two young lovers, shadows clashing, and a final tragic leap.

Naya Hart If you just finished reading this, let's say a prayer together. Oh Lord, forgive me for I have sinned. 🙏🏽 And honestly? I am not even sorry. If you made it all the way to the end of Forbidden Desires — from Ruin Me Stepfather down to My boyfriend ,y stepbrother, you are built differently and I respect you deeply. 😭🖤 This book was never for the faint of heart. It was for the ones who read with the door locked and the brightness turned all the way down.

Then she backed up, shutting down what progress she had made. She shook her head, “No. I’m duty bound. He promises to never cheat again and be loyal and kind.” “Cheated? He cheated?” I growled. “I did too, and now I’m regretting it.” I felt a gut punch, “You don’t mean that. I know you don’t.” “What exactly did you do to cause the split between witches and vampires?” Her question momentarily threw me off, then it dawn, “What do the Coven storybooks have to say?”