Novel & Cerita Popular Rom-com Books

“I don’t know. Isn’t he your boyfriend?” “Xavier isn’t my boyfriend.” “Pardon me. About to be your boyfriend.” “Not that either.” “Seriously, Noah,” Rina chimed in, finally tucking her phone away. “We’ve been friends for three years now and you don’t know that Lucas is Mr. Commitment-Phobe.” “I’m not a commitment-phobe. I’m just not—” “Interested in relationships. Yeah. Heard that before.” I scowled at her. She was acting entirely too cocky for my liking.

But I didn't get a chance to call it out when she continued . “I stumbled upon this book the other day. By mistake, obviously. I thought it was a theological study on ‘Fellowship,’ but it was actually this incredibly sappy romance story about two childhood best friends who fall in love after they made a promise to marry each other if they were still single by thirty.” She let out what sounded like a nervous, high-pitched giggle. “They were very scandalous scenes in the book, Leon,” Rose murmured in a low voice. “Their…sexual escapades were so vividly described I couldn't stop blushing, but I couldn't stop reading either.” She laughed again.

Most of them were what I expected—books on strategy, history, a few on Italian mafia politics. And then, tucked on the bottom shelf, almost hidden— "You weren't kidding about these?" I pulled one out, raising an eyebrow. "Really?" "Put that back." "The Duke's Dangerous Desire," I read aloud, grinning. "A Rake's Redemption. The Highlander's Captive Bride—" "Jameson." Her voice was sharp, but I could hear the embarrassment underneath. "Put them back." "I'm not judging," I said, turning to face her. "I'm just surprised. You kill people for a living, but you read romance novels?"

It reminds me of all the romance books that I’ve read. I giggle quietly when I think about it, catching Lia’s attention. “I just thought about something weird.” I tell her when I catch her curious glance. “Mind sharing?” “You know how in every romance book the quiet female protagonist has that one and only girl friend? The one she reveals all her secrets to. The nosy and loud one, that drags the protagonist to a club or a party whenever she feels down, no matter how much the main character doesn’t want to go. Like, a stubborn, extremely outgoing person…” I start.

I was pretty good at it and at the urging of my then girlfriend Julie, had submitted a few to a story site named Erotic escapes where under the pen name hotforteacher I'd gotten some pretty good reviews. Most of my stories were about older women with guys my age and Miss Ross had been the inspiration for many of them. Most of my female leads had the same long dark hair, big brown eyes and perfect full lips as my favorite English teacher. Yes Miss Ross had been the nasty little cougar in my mind and in print many times over the last few months. Shit, I'd even joined her writing discussion group because it met every other Sunday at her house.

“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.”

Malia Friday night came and met me curled up in bed, a book propped against my knees, trying to pretend I cared about the words on the page. I didn’t. Every line blurred, letters tangling into shapes that might as well have been nonsense. The quiet should’ve been comforting after the week I’d had, but instead it felt too sharp, like silence that was waiting for something to break it. All these were weird, because I loved reading, more than anything else.

I think I might even owe Alessia an apology. If only I had listened, all that wouldn't have happened. "Hey! You got any more of those romcom books of yours?" I questioned when I realized she was about to continue on her way but since I didn't want her to leave just yet, I had to come up with something. "What's a romcom?" She questioned in all sincerity but i looked passed it and glared at her like she had just asked me the dumbest question ever. "Uhhh.... Romantic Comedy." I explained in response when I realized she actually meant her question.

But as we started chatting and sipping our drinks, all my worries disappeared. "So, what's your favorite movie?" He asked me. I looked at me, a mischievous twinkle in my eye. "Oh, you know, just your typical romantic comedy. Something with a happy ending." He grinned. "Ah, so you're a sucker for a good love story?" I shrugged, a coy smile playing at the corners of my lips. "Maybe. Or maybe I just like seeing two people overcome all the odds and fall in love." He nodded, taking a sip of his drink. "I hear ya. There's nothing quite like a good rom-com to make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

Pleasing his wife meant trying to share some of her interests, but he didn’t expect to be pages deep into a story about some Afghans and their wars. This was not a romance story. He shut the copy of A Thousand Splendid Suns. He only enjoyed her mafia romance novels when he was reading them to her, or he would have started with those. They contained lots of misinformation about the mafia, but Camilla cared more for the main leads happy ever afters so he kept shut. Maybe that was why she liked the books. They were a respite from her mafia reality. The long-awaited call came in. His phone buzzed on the hotel bed, and he tossed the book on it. He picked up the device and murmured a gruff, “Tell