Romance Novels Written By Men Novels & Stories

Francesca knew this was a no-brainer, of the two men, one was a fifty-one-year-old widow and the other a twenty-eight-year-old bachelor. "Ah, Asher Evans it is then, I'll set a date for your first meet with him," Francesca declared when Joan picks the twenty-eight-year-old bachelor. Although Francesca thought it was quite unfortunate that her niece should go on a date with the wicked rascal, she had to concede, desperate times, desperate measures. "I don't understand, why would I go on a date with him?" "I told you it's an old tradition, it's an alliance between families, a marriage of opportunity, but who knows, it might spark some romance you desperately need in your life," Francesca state

“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

A smile crept onto my face as I adjusted my grip on the novel, its cover barely hiding the kind of story that made my heart race. A dark, depraved mafia romance. It had a male lead who didn’t ask permission so much as demand surrender. A man who played with consent the way a composer toyed with notes—artfully, deliberately, with the kind of confidence that made my skin prickle and my thighs press together. One that was over too soon. The kind of book I devoured in a fever and now I was in need of another. Most folks wouldn’t think of the local library as a treasure trove of scandalous reads, but I knew better. The librarians were in on the secret, intentionally filling the shelves with books

Rose cleared her throat. “The CEO romance genre can be split into many subgenres which adds to the number of writing possibilities which explains why it’s attractive to authors. Zach asked last week about why the male main character is always a rich man, CEOs fall into that,” she explained. “Workplace romances are popular, that’s possible with a CEO story. There’s an almost infinite number of popular combinations when one character is a CEO.” That was the most Zach had ever heard the quietest editor say. He could tell she was right. It was easy to add versatility to the genre as anything was possible as long as one character was a successful CEO.

They were more feminine than me when we were little. If they were not my brother's, I would be glad to take them both as my husband. Don't think of me like a slut. It is how the way I am. I'm quick to fall in love with tall hot guys, and sometimes I fantasize about them in my writings, and afterward, I kill them in the end. They need to suffer pain! All the stories I've written so far are tragedies where all the main characters' guy dies. It's kind of my fetish to kill them mercilessly. I'm joking. Besides being an ugly little squirt, I love writing romance tragedy, and my favorite novel at all times is Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare. So since I read that story by the age of five, I dedicat

Caleb Reed between my legs, looking at me like the account had never been the whole point. “Look at me. You don’t get to come with your face in the pillow and pretend I’m nobody.” His mouth found my throat again, open, staying. His hand stayed on my hip after every thrust, not just during. “I’m not nobody. I’m the man you texted come after two years of CC. I’m the man who drank coffee in your kitchen and left you the cup like a dare.” “You’re also the man who took the compliment.” “Yes.” He didn’t flinch. He rolled deeper. “Live with both. I am.”

Damien sat on his Royal chair and our eyes made contact as we both smiled. I averted my gaze and watched as Katherine walked in,with her head raised high like a peacock. “Am sure we’re all aware of the reason we’re here?” Lord maclon said as some people nodded while some mumbled. “Silence!” He exclaimed and the hall became quiet again. “King Damien has decided to break the engagement between Lady Katherine and himself and he’s not asking for permission from anyone, it’s his will and so shall it be” he said and a smile crept to my face.

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Twenty-five men. Twenty-five stories. One thing they all have in common is desire. Some men fall for the person they were never supposed to want. A forbidden crush on a straight boss. A brother's best friend who was always off-limits. A divorce lawyer who becomes far more than a professional. A bodyguard who gets dangerously close to his client. A fake boyfriend who doesn't stay fake for long. A retired adult-film star determined to leave his past behind, until someone recognizes the man he used to be. There are also rivals who can't stand each other, roommates who discover an attraction they never expected, supposedly straight married men whose lives are turned upside

He said, gazing intensely at me. "And the most abused." It was silent for a while before I spoke again; "Do you know something I really want to do?" "What's that?" Dean inquired. "I want to write a romance novel." I told him. "Why can't you just write one now?" He questioned. I chuckled softly and looked at him, "Like our professor would say, it is easy to write about what we haven't ever felt before but the real ardor comes when we've felt it, something we've experienced. It's not like I can't write it based on the movies I've watched or books I've read but I would love to write it based on how I feel. Sometimes I wonder if it's just all made up to look so perfect in the books and movies bu