Romance Podcast Novels & Stories

threatened Rena. "Jade, you want to sleep with me, right?" Romeo's head was dizzy. The perverted wolf rebelled because his lover tempted him. "Until when?" sighed Romeo resignedly. "Until we return to Germany." "No! That's not called a honeymoon. Honeymoon, we have to have sex so that we are happy. Channeling all the passionate desires!" Romeo's correction. "It's not a honeymoon, but a full moon. You feel how it feels." Rena didn't care about Romeo, who had gone to great lengths to persuade her to return.

For that reason, Clarissa whispered briefly. “So, I hope you can be patient a little longer. Give me time to convince Lucas. Don't worry. Aunt guarantees that you will get married soon.” Clarissa's eyes widened with hopeful anticipation. “Really?” “Of course.” For the promise made, Sandra had high hopes for Ricardo. So, it was not surprising that she immediately contacted Ricardo after Clarissa left. I hope he has good news for me. Sandra sat in a lounge chair, her gaze wandering to the starry night sky. She waited and grew impatient.

“You’re insane.” “Insanely invested in your love life, yes. Now talk.” So I did. I told her about the way he was waiting outside, the loosened tie, the ridiculous way he said aay yes, Arabella. By the time I got to the part where I actually gave him my number, she was squealing like a kid at a birthday party. “Oh my God, you’re going on a date.” “It’s just coffee.” “Coffee is a date. Everyone knows coffee is the prelude to romance. It’s the appetizer before the full-course meal of destiny.”

I said. “Why?” “Because it’s different for everyone.” Rome tilted his head slightly, listening. “It might be the same setting,” I continued, “the same job, the same kind of people… but the story is never exactly the same.” The garden below us grew quieter as the afternoon sun dipped lower. Jude and Poppy were now walking slowly along the stone path, still deep in conversation. “It’s interesting,” I said softly, “how you can write multiple romances based on a single topic.”

He told me he wasn’t a coffee person, but he still indulged in the cup I made for him. Mom was already asleep when Roman decided to head home. It’s almost midnight, and the moonlight bounced on his beautiful face as he spun me to face him when we reached his car. “I’ve been dying to do this since I saw you,” he mumbled, leaning down to press a kiss on my lips. Eucalyptus and mint mixed with coffee beans and everything sinful. He tasted so good, better than the lasagna. If his lip was tender from the cut, he’s good at hiding it.

Levine took her her seat on her desk that was beside mine. "Are we still doing Romeo and Juliet?" She asked. "Yes," Ms Michaels answered. Levine grimaced at the response and whined. "No, no, no. Please let's choose a different romance. Pretty please." "We'll make sure it's still ancient professor," Harper said from the back. "No promises," Ryanair smirked as we all looked at him giving him the 'what the fuck' look. "We promise Professor." He shook his head looking down at something on his desk.

“Has there ever been such a match made in heaven? You are both straight into your obsessions. What are you writing, Em? Any good sex?” “I am writing my first contemporary romance,” she replied. “Let me guess, star-crossed lovers in a band?” He laughed. Owen laughed. “Does it have a happy ending?” “No, but they keep their bandmates awake in the tour bus with their rhythmic thumping,” James rocked suggestively and groaned. “Oh, Emily, f-k, f-k, f-k!” Owen flushed. “Shut up, James,” he replied without heat. “You are just jealous you can’t lure Jeremy into your bunk.”

After fifteen minutes, Inez returned with coffee, placed it on the desk, and turned to leave when Rafeal motioned for her to take a seat. "I'm getting married in three months; would you like to be my wife's bridesmaid?"He smiled and said as he sipped his coffee. Inez's eyes widened as she was about to take a sip and asked, "Me?" "Yes, you," he responded. I'd be happy to, who's that lucky woman?" she enquired. He pretended to frown at her and asked, "Don't you think you ask too many questions?" She laughed as she said, "I know that."

“Tea?” “You’re welcome,” I murmur. The faintest sound—not quite a laugh, not quite a groan—escapes him. Good. Let him have something to work through later. The questions keep coming, soft lobs that Dante handles effortlessly. My shoulders start to loosen. Until— “Mr. Marcellus,” someone calls from farther down the table, voice sharper, hungrier. “Speaking of romance… how does this engagement compare to your mother’s public saga?” The air dies.

"Since when do you go on three dates in two days? That seems excessive even for you." "I'm trying to give love a chance," Wednesday declared. "Or at least give mediocre conversation a chance. So far, no luck. I'm beginning to think romance is dead." "What's romance?" Iniko asked, looking up from his tablet. "It's when grown-ups act silly because they like each other," Wednesday explained. "Like in those movies where people stare at each other and say dumb things." "Oh." Iniko considered this. "Aunt Wednesday, if you're chasing love, can you chase one for my mama too?"