Popular Romance Writer Novels & Stories

Vincent said with chuckles. “Lol, sorry,” she apologized. “I guess that an author like me tends to feel emotional.” “You are an author?” “Yup. I write as my hobby. But I only have a few readers on my online site.” “I wanted to read your works.” “No way! That is too embarrassing!” “Why? Do you write rated +18?” “No! I only write rated 15. I could only go for a kissing scene.” “All right. Tell me which site it is and your username. I will read it.”

It didn't take much thinking. “Yeah, I want to write contemporary romance,” He said. Iori was surprised, to say the least, she had expected it to be Erotica or something like that. After all, it’s known for male writers to be good at writing that genre from time to time. But contemporary romance was a whole other thing. “What made you choose it?” Iori asked in wonder, “I just read a few of those and thought to myself, aa~ah I can really do a better job writing one of these… And since then, the idea had been stuck into my head.” He explained and Iori shook her head hopelessly,

He asked. " Because people are very narrow-minded. They love to read romantic books but they judge the writer based on what they write. " I said. " Riya, I am very pleasantly surprised and proud to know that you are the author of these books. You know that I love you and now I appreciate you even more. You are so romantic and talented. I am on top of the world right now. I was really impressed with this writer and I am going crazy with happiness to know that you are her. " He said and hugged me.

Mary said and crossed her arms. So Anastasia started narrating the things that she learned about the author. About what happened to him, about his condition right now and his personal information which she practically got from the mother itself. "His pen name is Gemini-Tor and his real name is Luthor. His famous for his wide-range knowledge about the romance genre like action-romance, fantasy-romance, modern-romance and many more. He's 28 years old and he started writing when he's 20. Right now, he already published about 10 books in total and three of them became popular to the public."

He nodded in response. "Yeah, boring. No one reads a book like that these days except you," he told me. I raised my eyebrow. "Excuse me? For your information, this is a romance book. It's written by a famous writer, Jorelle Montividad, and it's not just an ordinary and boring book you say," I replied to him. "I don't even know who that is." That's because you're dumb. "That's because you have no taste in books, tsk!"

“I want a new one on the spot.” I furrowed my brows. “What do you want me to write?” He’s challenging me, so fine… let’s take the challenge! “What’s your genre?” he asked, now sitting on the leather chair opposite mine. “Contemporary romance, fantasy romance,” I answered, Joaquin giving me a single nod. “Alright. Then write something romantic,” he replied, giving more details. “A domineering man, softening to a sweet woman. Go.” I held the pen on my hand as I stared on the blank paper. I felt cold sweat on my back as I grew conscious of the fact that Joaquin, the famous author, watching me as he got a bottle of whiskey from the mini fridge beside his table.

I'll come up with some random bullshit and hope that they will take the pitch. "I am thinking of a more romantic theme. All my books revolve around the harsh realities of politics and religion. I love writing them. But some of my readers love the idea of me writing romance. These types of books have always been something that I want to work on." I say with no desire to write. The other line goes silent for a few seconds before they reply.

Cela said. "Oh, you are a writer. Are you into romance writing? You can write our story if you ran out of ideas for your stories," the old lady offered. "I think yours is a sweet love story, isn't it? I could tell," Cela said. She's enjoying the conversation with the old couple.

He watched her, his gaze steady and unnervingly focused. “Tell me,” he said, breaking the silence she had fallen into. “Why Keats? Of all the poets who have wrestled with illicit yearning, why did you anchor your work to him?” Scarlett hesitated. No one had ever asked her that. “Because it’s raw. It’s not romantic, it’s obsession, the ache that overtakes you, the pain that feels necessary. It mirrors real life, doesn’t it?”

“You’re not kidding?” “Of course not,” He shook his head, “But I want you to run a small errand for me, a small assignment,” He smiled at her. “Anything!” she instantly agreed. “Firstly, keep up the name of Capriana publication and make it one of the best romance publishing houses, get the best romance writers from the best publishing houses, get me the romance writer Elle,” He told her. “Elle?” She cocked her head to the side. "A romance writer?"