Novel & Cerita Romance Novels By Stacey Abrams

HIS TOUCH, HER FIRE🔥 --- Chapter Five Something You Shouldn’t Want The wind picked up as Evelyn rode the ATV across the far fields, her fingers clenched tight on the grips, her braid snapping behind her like a whip. The Romano name was all over her brain like a stain she couldn’t scrub out. Not just Damien anymore—but all of them. Luca had sent her a link to some sleek app design mock-up “in case she ever wanted to digitize the ranch,” and Dante had casually shown up at the farmer’s co-op talking gym memberships and local partnerships like he belonged. It was calculated. It was charming. It was suffocating. But it was Damien who got under her skin the most. Always him. Always that look like

Chapter 2 Isabella’s POV “That arrogant prick,” I muttered under my breath as I stormed into the crowded investor dinner two nights later, my black cocktail dress hugging every curve I knew he would stare at. My skin still felt hot from the boardroom stare down. I had spent the last forty eight hours trying to forget how my body reacted to Victor Kane, but the second I spotted him across the room chatting with some investors, my thighs clenched again. His eyes found mine immediately like he had been waiting.

she said with a wink, settling beside me on the couch and pulling a fuzzy blanket over us both. She queued up the movie on her TV, the opening credits filling the room with upbeat music. As the story unfolded lighthearted banter, stolen glances, the kind of sweet romance that made your heart flutter—I tried to lose myself in it. Mira laughed at the jokes, nudging me with her elbow, but I could only manage faint smiles. My mind wandered back to Zayden, to the way his touch had once felt like safety, now tainted by blood.

Lupita assured him that they never had the courage to look at a single letter. Once she arrived, and under the light of a candle and an old desk, she opened the manuscript and found her mother's story. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- Manuscript; When I arrived at my beloved Del Valle's apartment early that afternoon, the curtains were drawn, and behind them, the bright tropical sun left the room in a kind of perpetual twilight. Everything was perfect, spotless and tidy, as if it were a nun's quarters. The only evidence of life was a glass bookcase that housed three volumes: Wiseguy, Donnie Brasco and Mo

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“I don’t know anything you’re playing at this time. Asking them to move me here, throwing an elder into a dungeon because of me, or acting all gloomy and staying beside my bed asking me to wake up while I was asleep. But I won’t fall for it.” “So it’s better,” she continued, “it’s better to stop it, because it’s so lame.” She added. Ronan looked up, their eyes clashing with each other before saying three words that hit Stacey right in the heart. “I want you.”

And I hadn't been there for it. The trip from discovery to stage for Gordon's plays hadn't been terribly long, all things considered, but a global recession does tend to noticeably reduce the number of theaters willing to take a risk on an unproduced, decades-old play by an unknown author. After months of hunting, begging, and cajoling, Scott had finally lined up a prospect on the East Coast willing to gamble on back-to-back productions of Gordon's masterpiece—the trilogy Lamps by Day, Likeness of a Sigh, and A Grave Man. Scott's charm and persistence had paid off again when the theater in my hometown, where Daniel and I first met, agreed to take on the gender-bending comedy Queen Mab only a

With no food inside, she chose to starve rather than leave, still obsessed with marrying into a wealthy family. Darcy's death didn't cleanse her name; in fact, it made her reputation even worse. People dug up her past, exposing her plastic surgery and her sordid past as a mistress who once worked as a hostess. I sat holding my tablet, reading all these messages while Felix lay across my lap, acting like a dog waiting for his master's approval.

“Rosalind, meet Sabella. Take her hand at your peril.” I glanced at Sabella’s outstretched hand, her pin-sharp nails extending like talons. Gently, I planted my hand in hers. “Pleasure to meet you,” I breathed. This stunning woman made me nervous, but in a good way. She raised my hand to her lips, grazing the skin with just a whisper. “Pleasure’s all mine, darling. You’re ravishing.” The glint in her eyes told me she meant it. “Okay, back off, she’s my date. If you want something to sink your teeth into, the cowboy’s all yours,” Dominic said, gesturing to Dante, who paled beside me. Oh Dante, I understand.

To Grace, it was a beautifully staged cage match. "Smile, Grace," Elias whispered against her temple, his lips brushing her skin as if sharing a tender, private joke. "The lead editor of the Financial Chronicle is watching from the balcony. Give him the romance he’s paying to print." Grace tilted her head back, plastering a radiant, highly calculated smile onto her face as she looked up into his striking blue eyes. "I'm smiling, Elias. But if your hand slides an inch lower, the Chronicle is going to get a headline about a sudden domestic breach of contract."