Romance Novel Hero Novels & Stories

“I’ve waited so long to feel you tremble under me.” His fingers flexed around my throat and I sucked in a hissing breath. Suddenly I couldn’t think straight. Not because he was cutting off my air but because his voice held so much promise and my body reacted to that. Even after everything he had done , I still felt the attraction to the old him. The him that was kind and sweet and romantic. Back when he had been the hero in my story and not the villain.

»»————————«« Author's note: This novel explores dark romance themes and contains intense content. It includes scenes involving sexual violence and abuse. If these subjects are triggers for you, please be aware that this book may not be suitable. While I've taken care to respect the characters' boundaries, your own sensitivities are paramount. Please consider this before delving into the story. Your well-being is important. Marco Costello isn't your typical hero, and this love story isn't always smooth sailing. If you're all about safe, good-guy heroes in your romances, this might not be your cup of tea.

My heroine got the last word, of course, she always did, but it was the hero’s quiet steadiness that made the scene glow. Halfway through, I caught myself grinning. The crooked smile I’d typed into the description? That was Ace’s. The way the heroine’s pulse quickened just watching him move? That was mine. “Idiota gato-homem,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head as I typed faster. “You sneak into my story without even asking.” By the time I stopped, my word count had exploded, pages filled with fire and friction. My heroine finally felt alive again, her heart beating with mine. And my hero? He was no longer a cardboard cutout. He was Ace, messy, complicated, and real.

"Sierra, no. The readers... They're obsessed with the husband's character. The 'Mafia Lord.' You can't just kill him off or replace him! It'll ruin the brand!" ​"I am the author, Diane," I sweetly said, but firm as my eyes never left his. "And as the author, I've decided that my heroine deserves to be happy. She needs a man who will actually show up. Someone who will make her forget that the first man ever existed. I want to write about a love that doesn't hurt." ​Carlo made a choked sound in the corner, shifting uncomfortably. Alessandro, however, didn't move a muscle. He sat perfectly still, but the air around him seemed to vibrate with a violent energy.

It’s a romance novel entitledBuilt from Stoneabout a girl who goes hiking and gets caught in a storm, only to be rescued by a rough mountain man who takes her home to his cabin where…thingshappen. Clarisse gets me books like this occasionally. I think she knows they’re more educational than enjoyable to me. Having never had a boyfriend, I’m completely ignorant of how to please a man. These books at least give me somewhat of an idea. I used to be able to picture the heroes in my mind, but ever since I met Rhett, all I see is his face.

"Of being swept off my feet by a gallant knight or a handsome prince." Marvin's heart clenched at her words, a pang of guilt piercing his chest. He had never been the romantic hero of Jace's dreams, the dashing figure who swept her off her feet with grand gestures and whispered promises. Instead, he had been thrust into her life through an arranged marriage, a union born out of duty rather than love.

“That rather gives the plot away, no?” I laughed. “Romance novels aren’t known for being subtle.” He plucked the book from my fingers before I could react. He held it over my head as he flipped through it. “Where are the love scenes? Ah, found one.” He raised one golden eyebrow as he began to read aloud: “‘A fire lit in her belly. Damian’s hands were magic. Everywhere he touched, it was like fire across her skin.’” “Oh my God, stop—” He just held the book up higher. Tall people were the worst.

He was not Adam. “You…” Anna was terrified. How he dared to reach her room? “Finally, the twist comes in the story when the hero has to taste the taste of his heroine and then there is a romantic scene between the two.” He smiled and sat directly on Anna's bed who had left the bed before he reached it and moved to one side. “You were in Italy, weren't you?” “Yes, everyone thinks John is in Italy, but John is always where he should be, on a soft bed next to his heroine.” He smiled meaningfully.

What else were we supposed to think? “Duh, I said he’s my student! He’s younger than me!” ”Age does not matter, dear. How old are you, Hero?” “I’m 25 ma’am,” was the young man’s eager reply. ”And do you have a girlfriend?” ”DAD!” ”No, sir, I don’t.” ”What about a boyfriend?” asked a soft feminine voice. ”MOM!” ”No ma’am,” chuckled Hero, “I never have and will never intend to have one.”

His skin scorched mine. A small whimper escaped my lips, helpless and betraying. And tears pricked my eyes as I heard him growl in my ear, in that deep tone that curled my insides along with my toes— dark, gravelly, laced with sin, his words brushed against my ear and tore through every barrier I had built. “Hello, lioness…” ____ A. Gupta Check out my completed books, if you like dark romance. These anti heroes are way darker than Ryan Johnson: