Romance Novels With Ghosts Novels & Stories

“They don’t like it when I say I’ve already been there.” “Hard to go somewhere you don’t believe in.” He mused. “True statement.” She agreed. “I pulled a few books for you. Don’t feel like you have to all of them. Or even any of them.” “I appreciate this. I’m not sure what to think about all of this.” “The woman? The feelings you have? Or the gifts she has?” Giving her a wry smile, he asked, “Do I have to pick just one?” “Absolutely not.” Ciara shuffled the books and pulled one out, handing it over. “This one is about ghosts. I also pulled a few about white covens.”

The words pierced his eyes: “Vincent, I kissed you once because I wanted to know if you were really human. But your lips felt like fire, and your breath burned my lungs. I thought that kissing you would turn you into a man. But you remained a fox. I am just a girl, and now I'm all alone.” Vincent stumbled backward, his chest heaving like a trapped beast. “No…” His voice faltered. “That kiss…Camela…it was real. You wanted it.” The page responded softly with her clear voice. "I sought hope, but I didn’t find it in you." His claws tore through the paper. As it ripped, blood oozed from the edge, dripping onto his hands. He halted and muttered, “Camela’s blood…” The ghost’s voice purred softly. “

_______________ **BLURB** Book 1] CRIMSON : 'Il Velo di MINE' {The Veil of Mine} from MAFIA DARK ROMANCE MINE series He lowered his head, his pupils burning like an ignited flame. "Maybe you think you can escape from me... BUT YOU CAN'T GET AWAY FROM ME", He whispered softly in her ears, causing her to shiver under his gaze. He was her WARMTH. She was his PEACE. but everything was not this simple at all. *** Zafira Wilder, a 30-year-old divorcee, thought she had escaped the shadows of her past, but her world is about to be shattered.

At night, she hears whispers in the water. On the third night, Evelyn sees a flickering light drifting down the river. She follows it—drawn by something she doesn’t understand—and finds a wooden boat with a burning lantern and an old journal inside. The pages are filled with entries from a woman named Alara who speaks of binding spells, river spirits, and a curse upon her bloodline. The last page is stained and unreadable

It was heavy with ghosts, ghosts of love, of loss, of a man still waiting in the dark. Elena closed her eyes and let the ghosts keep her company.

They can cause harm to people including life-threatening if people accidentally touch them. Roxanne finally knew why she felt the chill and the pressure was both strange and familiar. She met a lot of ghosts, but she only met a demon once. In Roxanne's eyes, the demons were all dressed in a blood-red color. That time, Roxanne was lucky to escape or she wasn't sure she would still be standing here. However, she met another demon again. Would luck come to Roxanne a second time? And are those ghosts running away from this man? She discovered that the spirits from earlier were all dressed as servants and maids for a noble family. Maybe the things behind the scenes were more terrifying than Roxan

The whole house was boring and the atmosphere was gloomy, I decided to go into the study, when I was in there with Damon I could recall seeing romance novels on the bookshelf. I am a true lover of romantic novels, they get your spirit high with the sexiness of the male lead and gracefulness of the female but one thing that lacks in all romantic plot is that all are the same, there hasn't been anything new but who cares...... While I checked the bookshelf I notice a couple of erotic novels in there, you should know that I am very happy.

Then something happened. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind swirled around the meeting point. The witches' robes flapped wildly as a faint glow emanated from the ground where the three roads intersected. My mother and Geraldine locked eyes, and the tension in the air became palpable. Without warning, the ground beneath my mother and Geraldine glowed brighter. My mother extended her hand toward Geraldine, and the glow intensified, casting eerie shadows around us. The other witches formed a circle, chanting in a language I didn't understand.

A word I had not heard before a lounge invitation arrived in that elegant handwriting, and now it lived in me the way his voice lived in me, taking up space, refusing to be reasoned out. Georgia's POV He was already there when I arrived. One of those velvet-dark lounges tucked into Pasadena's forgotten corners, the kind of place that existed in the space between heartbeats, between the city's orderly surfaces and whatever lived underneath them. Music moved beneath the conversation like something feline and low. Candlelight smudged reality's edges. The air tasted of aged whiskey and bitter orange peel, a scent that coated the tongue and suggested that whatever happened in this room would stay

Elowen screamed, then looked around wildly, her voice trembling as she muttered, "Ms. Ghost, if you’re still safe, respond to me…" She waited and waited, but the familiar cold presence never returned. Her heart felt as if it had plunged straight into an abyss. Her body went limp, sliding down until she collapsed onto the floor. Lucien saw her reaction and immediately knew that the ghost had truly disappeared. He burst into loud laughter, cold and hollow, like a wraith crawling up from hell. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, "See that? Your lover was sent to hell by your own hands. This is all because of you."