Romance Historical Fiction Novels Novels & Stories

“Because I do. Most of these modern book relationships don’t make sense. They wouldn’t work in real life. He’s toxic and she’s too naive, but hey, their s*x scenes are terrific and at this point, that’s all I’m here for.” I sighed deeply. What was with my mouth lately? I was no longer thinking before speaking. “So I’m guessing you prefer the older romance stories, like Jane Eyre whose man is double her age or Pride and Prejudice who had to marry for wealth or else she would be done for,” he said, looking at me with an amused expression. “Ok. Fair point,” I agreed with him. “But I never said I liked the older romance novels either. I’m an English major and I really believe some of these books

I pulled him toward me and crashed my mouth against his. It wasn't a soft kiss. It wasn't a movie kiss. It was messy, desperate, and full of all the anger and confusion we had been carrying since the day we became roommates. It tasted like salt and heat. It felt like a fight. Jax made a low sound in his throat: half a groan, half a growl and slammed me back against the tiled wall. The cold tile hit my back, but I didn't care because his body was warm, pressing against me, pinning me there. His hands moved from my arms to my waist, gripping me so hard I knew there would be marks tomorrow.

She reached for a piece immediately—and hissed when it burned her fingers. “Careful. It’s hot.” I picked it up, blowing on it, cooling it down without thinking—like you would for a kid. “I do,” she said, and when I looked up, she was blushing. “I really do. I used to have a lot of books… but they’re all back at my parents’ house.” “I see. Then mine might seem boring. Most girls your age go for romance novels, and I don’t have many of those.” “You do have some amazing historical ones,” she said quickly. “I even saw a couple of my favorites.”

“You know, you talk about him differently now. And you talk about him a lot.” Victoria frowned and denied it quickly. “I do not.” Julie shook her head slowly. “You do. In fact, you smile when you talk about him.” “That’s just your overactive imagination.” She countered. Julie ignored her. “I’ve written enough romance novels. And read even more.” Victoria immediately knew where this conversation was heading. “Oh no.” Julie nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes.” She began counting on her fingers. “Contract marriage. Cold billionaire. Independent female lead. They’re forced to live together.”

She glanced down, silently noting that the book in my hands was upside down. I blushed, having not noticed myself, and put the book on the table. I had borrowed it from Leila in an attempt to distract myself from thoughts of escaping. But truth be told, I wasn’t much interested in books, especially not this thick tome on the royal history of Hescor. The only books that had ever captured my interest were the forbidden romance stories I used to find under her nanny’s pillow, filled with dirty language and obscenity. My nanny thought she had hidden them well, but Evelyn had easily discovered them, devouring them in secret whenever I could.

"Oh, this. It's a storybook of a couple who yearned for each other but..." "Stop.. stop." Feng Shao could not bear listening to him talk of those cliché romance stories that he had grown up hearing from his grandfather. He had thought it was something to do with war or politics. But who would have thought that it is a romance novel. "What? You don't read these?"

It was my first time visiting a library, but I was extremely bored, and in the past, reading had cured my boredom. When I was younger, around the age of fifteen, I was housed with a couple who loved reading. They had a room in their home that was solely dedicated to their books. Three out of the four walls were lined corner-to-corner with built-in bookshelves, and one of the walls was solely for my foster mother. On her shelves was where I found my favorite genre, historical romance. The fourth wall was a reading nook, and I found myself sitting on the nook, my legs tucked underneath me, encaptured by novels written by Johanna Lindsey, Lisa Kleypas, Julia Quinn, and Julia Garwood, just to na

The name of a certain novel came inside of her mind— The Lady's Possessive Prince— and thinking about it, she found it funny how she had to dream about the novel now. The novel was quite popular amongst her workmates, and the reason she took interest in it was because of how the female lead had the same name to her— 'Seraphine'. Reading it, Seraphine got to learn how it took place in the western historical setting, and the era wasn't quite clear to her. The story centered around the female lead, 'Seraphine'. Like all the female lead, 'Seraphine' was kind and well-liked by most around her, and throughout the story, she gained love of more people.

I forced my brain to assimilate the words until I couldn't take it any longer. I loved reading, in fact I had huge collections of crime and mystery novels because they were my favorite genre, but romance and historical . . . anything? Count me out. There was just something about ‘soulmates’ and romance that just grossed me out and the fact that this book had both just made me hate it. I stretched and yawned as I reached for my bed. I fell on my bed, face down. I didn't bother with my purple and white duvet as I let myself fall into slumber, Kenneth's smiling face the last thing I thought of.

The need to have something that belongs to her in my hands overpowering the need to wrap them around his throat. Bart tries a few more numbers while I study the novels stored carefully in the old bookcase. I recognize a lot of fantasy books, some historical novels and a lot of romance novels. My fingers caress the backs of the novels until one in particular speaks to me. 'Tears of Tess.' I caress the front of the paperback. The cover is simple with the middle half of a woman on the front and the title crossing it. I flip it over and read the blurb. My eyes skim over the text as a small smile plays across my lips when I finish reading.