Paranormal Romance Books Novels & Stories

I frantically tried to search his deep ocean blue eyes for help, but the eyes that were staring back at me were not his. The eyes that glared back at me were as black as the night's sky, and seeing those jet-black pools sparked something deep inside my brain. Visions of the morning’s nightmare quickly flooded my mind and took over every sense that I had. I couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't speak, as it silently dragged me back into its deadly grasp. *** Tristan Cole Freya lifted her head up and I guessed that she wanted me to kiss her. Damn, I could do so much more to her right now. She smelled amazing, and I could hear her heart racing, every time my fingers or lips caressed her skin.

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I hit send, my heart thudding against my ribs. Almost instantly, the screen lit up. Damon: Do you? I blinked. Aria: Do I what? Damon: Wish I was holding you tonight? My thumbs hovered over the screen. And then I typed, without hesitation— Aria: Yes!!! Sleep refused to come. I tossed and turned under the blanket, my skin too warm, my thoughts too loud. The pendant lay on my nightstand, still glowing faintly like a soft heartbeat in the dark. Every time I closed my eyes, the dreams came rushing back—forests burning, silver eyes watching me from the shadows, flames licking at my fingertips like they knew me.

"She's human. The bond is a mistake. I'll find a way to break it." "You can't break a mate bond." Vera's words fell like stones. "You know that. Even if you could, the curse—" "Don't." The warning in Kael's voice made my skin prickle. "Not here. Not now." Mate bond. The words echoed in my head. No. No, that was romance novel nonsense. That wasn't real. None of this was real. "I want to go home." The words burst out of me. "This is insane. You're all insane. I'm going to wake up in a hospital and this will be a head injury or—"

I barely even came. My second boyfriend tried to “fix me” like I was a problem to solve. He lasted five days before I got tired of pretending I was normal. But even in those five days, I was already craving something deeper than what he could give. And I hate to say this, but hell no, he has the tiniest dick I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Believe me, his dick was about the same size as my nipples when they’re aroused. My third boyfriend said I was draining him. I told him I wasn’t the one begging for distance every time things got real.

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Or how his body felt against mine. I shook my head again. “Bad, Wakely.” I snorted at scolding myself like a dog. I quickly showered and threw on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt. It was too early to get ready for the party, but I could go for some coffee. I grabbed the only fiction book that I had on my shelf. It was a paranormal romance that I have read at least a hundred times. The cover was well worn, and for some reason, it gave me comfort.

The taller man in front of me with the gorgeous amber eyes, dark curly hair, and a tattoo of a half-moon on his neck, smiles and says, “I am Max, this is Damen, and the stealthy stud behind you is Sam, and you are our mate.” Did he say “mate?” I must have seriously hit my head or something and this cannot be happening. I have read so many paranormal and supernatural romance novels, and it is only in stories that I have heard someone say “mate” in the way he just did. “What do you mean by mate,” I say while looking at him like he grew a third arm or something.

“Thank you. This is all going to seem impossible. We aren’t sure how this all works truthfully, and we aren’t looking for any favours now or in the future for this. Sherri may be human, but she is definitely a hybrid of some sort. What I mean is, everyone knows pure humans don’t have any special abilities. Since she’s been my mate, Sherri has exhibited some oracle abilities. It’s all a mess. I won’t bore you with the details of this part. I’ll leave that part off with saying that she’s not well versed in the abilities, nor is she trained in interpreting what information she is given.” Favours were a major currency between different supernatural creatures until recently. It was still popular,

I am as exciting and predictable as a loaf of sliced white bread. Anyway, back to my story. The traffic started moving, and off he went, leaving behind the lingering scent of tobacco. At work, I had trouble concentrating, and spent most of the day creating racy vignettes in my head with us as the feature characters. Let's be honest; I have a very vivid imagination. The closest I've been to a hot steamy encounter is courtesy of the pages of my endless supply of paperback romance novels. I'm not the kind of girl that attracts hot, sexy men. In fact, I've been called an ice queen by more than one guy. But when I'm in the middle of one of my books, I am sensual, daring, sarcastically humorous, a