Novel & Cerita Romance Novels Excerpt

he asked with his right eyebrow arching up in confusion. "I have been reading a lot of romance literature; each describes in detail how to kiss. Didn't you see how I expertly kissed you back then? Wasn't it good that you lost your mind?" Rosalina stepped closer to Garry, watching as his face gradually turned into a human tomato.

"Explain. Now." "There's nothing to explain." "The first one looked like he'd kill for you. This one looks like he'd die for you. And you're standing here looking like you don't know which one you want. That's not nothing. That's the plot of every romance novel I've ever read." I stared at her. "You read romance novels?"

Hi! My novel, 'From The 28th Century' had reached 100+ chapters which I did not expect. I just wanna say that I'm not good at writing romance stories, so the romance here might be a little off. I'm still learning and hope I could achieve writing a romance story. :)))) Everything about this story was all of my imaginations, so it is quite different from the other cultivation stories. This is my first story and I cannot promise that this would be a perfect novel. I admit there are tons of mistakes, but I would do my best to improve.

Maybe at Shanice place. After sating her hunger, she hopped onto her bed. As a routine, she grabbed her novel from the table, parted the book to where she had left off last night, and began reading. She loved reading romance novels. The MLs in these books are so different than the real-life men. The love they show feels so pure. She wondered if she would ever get to experience that kind of love. The thought caused her feeling giddy. She wants her man to be possessive, a little bit obsessive, and hella romantic. Someone who will kiss the ground she walks on. Someone who will choose her and only her every time. She will be his first choice.

“Whooaah! That is ridiculous. First of all, the author of this book wrote it quickly.” “Readers adore fast-paced novels.” “So, what happened? Please tell me he arrested her.” “That is even better. He did not recognize her, and after she left, he became cold.” “That is insane. I can not believe I am even asking about this!” “Tyler. I am not a fan of books, novels, or even...” he spat. “Romance. But I am going to finish this book. I have to find out what actually happens.” “What is the title?”

She curled into one of the high-backed chairs near the window, a thick book open on her lap, a dark romantic comedy she’d read a thousand times. The sun was setting in orange and purple across the pages. She told herself she was reading. In truth she was still feeling Roman between her thighs from the shower, every shift of her hips reminding her how he did everything but fuck her. The door opened without a knock. Roman stepped in, closing it softly behind him. Shirt sleeves rolled to the elbow, top two buttons undone, looking too innocent for who he truly was. He looked unfairly edible. Tessa didn’t even look up from her book.

She could do a lot of things. Instead, she picked up the embarrassing romance novel and walked to the window seat. --- The book was terrible. The dialogue was overwrought. The hero was impossibly handsome, and the heroine was impossibly naive, and the plot required a series of coincidences that would never happen in real life. Elara loved every page. She read until the morning light shifted to afternoon. She read until her eyes grew tired and her stomach reminded her that breakfast was a distant memory. She read until she stopped seeing Isabella's tight smiles and Viktor's watchful eyes every time she blinked.

She was fully expecting him to give it one glance, and put it down with a caustic remark about trash, at which she would mutter something equally caustic about literary snobs. Instead he scanned it for perhaps twenty seconds. It was ridiculous to feel embarrassed, but she did. Not because he was reading about the imaginative contortions of Dominic and Natalya, but because he was probably imagining her reading them and getting all hot and erogenous in the process. In fact, she had not. As scenes of rampant nookie went, it had been disappointingly unerotic - more like a DIY plumbing manual than anything else. ‘Jesus,* he muttered at last. ‘This is anatomically impossible.*

His gaze held a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, a sentiment he seldom revealed. As she continued to dress his wounds, the room seemed to shrink, narrowing down to the unspoken connection between them. Raina, in your writing, delves into the complexities of their romance. The physical act of dressing wounds serves as a metaphor for the healing they find in each other amid the chaos of their lives. Let the readers feel the emotional nuances, the uncharted territory of love in the shadows.

He took the initiative to turn the chair towards the desk and rest his legs on the desk and my legs moved along with his resting over his long legs. "Tell me, what you were reading? He asked tracing small circles on my arm. "It was a romance novel," I began, "I have reached the thirty-five-chapter." "What was the chapter about?" He seemed curious about what I was reading and it made me smile. "It was about a date between the couple, something kind of a candlelight dinner," I explained, "Apparently I got to learn today that date is much more intimate than other gestures." He fell silent at my statement, somehow looking lost in thoughts that I couldn't see through.