Romance Book Agents Novels & Stories

It was a promise to love and protect, to cherish and nurture the flame that burned brightly in our hearts. A surge of passion and desire ignited between us. The air crackled with an electric energy, and I could feel the intensity building as our lips drew closer. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, our mouths met in a searing, passionate kiss. It was a union of souls, a melding of two hearts that beat as one. Our tongues danced in a passionate rhythm, exploring the depths of each other's desires. He bit my lips and sucked my blood from them, grabbing my hair.

He rested his chin on her shoulder and read the final paragraphs over her head in silence. “It’s good,” he said after a long moment. “It’s us. Even with the names changed. The fear feels real. The hunger feels real. The relief at the end feels earned.” Juliet bit her lip. “I sent the query letters this morning. Three agents. One of them already replied. She wants the full manuscript.” Adrian’s arms tightened around her middle. “That’s fast.”

Please be prepared. My heart raced as I opened my system inventory and found a pair of red heels inside. I selected 'claim', and in the next second, Ximena appeared right in front of me. "Hubby?" she called out, and I smiled at her. "Ximena… Welcome to my world."

She brightened up, but he suspected it was for his sake. “She’s okay, I promise you. We’ll get her.” “Thanks.” All done dressing, he grabbed his briefcase and draped his coat over his shoulders. She followed him outside, and he sensed her reluctance when they reached the door. He also didn’t want to leave, but work called. “What kind of books do you write about?” “Oh, romance. I love love,” Angel said. He thought of that as an irony since she didn’t believe in it. What would she do if he confessed his feelings? She extricated the briefcase from him so he could wear his jacket. “I actually have a book to release.”

“Run a full background check on the name Angela Wyatt. Everything. Medical records if you can access them. Any link to Canada, to London, any place five years ago. Start tonight.” “Understood.” A pause. “There is also something you should know. The meeting tomorrow at the main branch — Wyatt Holdings is on the collaborator list.” Wyatt? Wait? The name might just be the same. I said nothing for a moment. “Which branch?” He told me the address and I hung up before he finished the sentence. *** Angela’s POV The house was large in the quiet, tasteful way that said money without having to announce it, high ceilings and old wood floors and furniture that had been chosen by someone who actually kne

"Not details. Just — you're in the way he talks about the building. Like you're part of what makes it workable." Caleb looked at her sideways. "He talks about you, too." "I know what he says about me." "Relentless?" "Among other things." A small silence. Comfortable, which surprised her. She wasn't comfortable with silences lately — they had too much room in them, too much space for thoughts she was managing carefully. But this one felt occupied neutrally. Like sitting in a room with a window. "How long have you been his agent?" Caleb asked. "Four years. Since before his first book." She pulled apart the last of her tamale. "He sent me the worst query letter I've ever received. Three paragra

I was inspired by Eoin Colfer and fused his style with my own and in fantasy genre. And lastly as for another work on Goodnovel.com I've a contemporary romance I'd love to suggest because now I'm aware of the flash forward style of GN. It's entitled as "Winning Over The Cold Heiress." Thank you~

The way a life, honestly lived, keeps finding ways to extend itself outward. She opened the email. It was from the second agent on her list — a woman named Margaret Chen, who ran a small agency with a reputation for championing exactly the kind of work that defied easy categorization. The email was three paragraphs. Anya read it once, quickly, the way you do when you’re bracing for something. Then she read it again, slowly.

Quite big for an average educated girl like myself. As I approached her, I walked in a most dejected posture, my eyes bent to the floor, as I crossed my hands over my exposed breast. When I looked at her, from the way she frowned her face, I know she wasn't buying my fake facial expression. 'Fuck who cares.' I glared back at her. For a moment there I forgot again what I had come to do, not until I heard her answered the phone. "Yes Sir, the applicants are waiting Sir."

“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.”