Publishing Romance Novels Novels & Stories

“Occupational hazard. You clean up well.” He stepped closer, “Just well?” I swallowed. “Devastatingly handsome. There. Professional opinion.” Damien chuckled, deep and rough. One hand came up to straighten my collar, fingers brushing my neck. “Flirting with the groom, photographer?” “Wouldn’t dream of it,” I lied, but my eyes dropped to his mouth for half a second. The door clicked shut behind us as the last bridesmaid left. We were alone. “Everyone’s downstairs,” I said, but I didn’t move away.

I shivered as his hands cupped my breasts, thumbs circling my hard nipples. “You’re still such an arrogant prick,” I whispered, but I arched into his touch. My pussy was already dripping, aching for him after weeks of tense meetings where we fucked in secret between arguments. Ronan pushed me back onto the bed and stripped quickly, his thick cock springing free, heavy and veined. “And you’re still a stubborn little brat who gets wet arguing with me.” He climbed over me, spreading my legs wide and rubbing his cockhead up and down my slick folds. “Tell me you want this.”

Good day, you all. One of my favorite people (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠). Like I had mentioned before in my previous author note (if you actually read it (⁠θ⁠‿⁠θ⁠)). I wrote that a new book, an obsessive werewolf romance book, might come out later on. But, guess what? The book is already published here in Goodnovel, and is titled, "The Mate He Never Expected: His Crazy Obsession".

"Too smart to just pour coffee for the rest of your life. Do something with that brain of yours." Sam had agreed. He'd bought me a used laptop for my birthday—well, Elizabeth's birthday, the fake one on my fake ID—and told me to stop making excuses. "You love books," he'd said. "Why not try writing one?" So I did. And I'd discovered I was actually good at it. Good enough that I'd self-published my first romance novel six months ago under a pen name. It had sold better than I'd expected and it was enough to start a small savings account for the boys' future.

“Well, that’s the whole point, isn’t it?” I scoffed. “Nah. I’m keeping you. I like you a lot, just to drop you because they have decided you don’t fit for their little pet project, and I still want to read what you’re writing. I want you to send it to the publisher, and I’ll buy a thousand copies.” “You don’t even know what I’m writing about, and you need an agent to publish a work.” “Maybe you’re writing a romance novel based on a true story.”

N/B: This chapter contains Somnophilia/NonCon. Somnophilia: sexual fantasy involving someone who’s asleep or unconscious. If this isn’t your vibe, please skip. Cole Pacing in front of her door, I exhale a nervous breath. It’s early in the morning. I had gone for a long run to burn off the anger and shock from last night. Once it faded, I realized she was right. I was a coward. Harper had done the one thing I’d dreamt about from the first day I met her, she’d been brave enough to reach for what she wanted, and I had shamed her for it.

I chuckled softly but a look of interest crossed her face. “Tell me more, I love books,” “Well, I have a thing for romance books and in my leisure time, I try to write. It’s one of the major reasons, I went for English Lit. and I hope to get published someday, but for now, I’m just working on perfecting my manuscripts, while hoping a publisher accepts them,” “Oh, that’s lovely. A hardworking girl with beautiful dreams. I’d love to read some of your work someday if you wouldn’t mind,”

He offered and handed his pill to me, bringing a bright smile to my face. "Thanks bro." I thanked him, and he winked, rushing out. That was how he saved me, but I knew it was only a matter of time before my secret would be exposed. This was a dangerous path to tread—the type that would bring disaster and death at the end. It was that type of romance that has no happy ending. I knew this, and I should stay away. The best option was to kill her and save myself from falling harder, but my powers are weak in front of her.

"Whatever happened to love each other first then... then doing the deed after. Is everyone after physical contact only these days? What about getting to know each other first? Chivalry? Romantic date?" I sighed and stopped spinning, facing my laptop and visiting a bookstore's site to see what books sell. Ah, of course, my book wouldn't be in the top 10, and I didn't hope so; what's staring back at me is the top 10 best-selling books for the week, where five of ten are Erotic Romance books. "And I thought my company wouldn't be like other companies who are after profit; I was wrong. Then again, business is business."

My mind returns to the university years—classes, Lily's eyes, the affair that broke my marriage's peace—then shifts to Megan, her cunt surrounding me, her business savvy saving me. Aurora Press is my salvation, a fire to ignite my nights, and I sense the shattering of it, the transformation complete. I pull out my phone and write a social media post: Victor Graham, retired professor, opening Aurora Press—erotica and literary fiction with a combustible bite. Wait for it." I post it, the tweet live, and watch the likes accumulate, a modest start. My mind is consumed by logistics—office space, staff, print contracts—and I text Megan: