Romance Podcast Novels & Stories

"So, I'd like to ask, what kind of mentor-mentee relationship involves using a girlfriend's supplementary card to buy the mentee a Tiffany necklace? What kind of mentor-mentee relationship involves booking a king-size room together at a hot spring hotel?" The room erupted in murmurs. Everly's face turned pale. She instinctively grabbed onto Jeremy's sleeve. "You... You're lying! That was for work!" she screamed. I gestured for Justin Orson to play the projection. On the screen appeared a list of transactions alongside corresponding social media posts. [December 1: Thank you for the necklace, Jeremy. I love it.] [Transaction: 2000 dollars charged to Jeremy's supplementary card.] [December 24:

"You want a puppet who'll nod and smile. However, now the puppet's strings are cut, and you're freaking out." Francis' expression turned icy. "I'm not freaking out." "Then why switch my meds?" I asked, a challenge. "You're terrified. Terrified that without those drugs, I'll realize I don't love…" His response was to kiss me, a fierce, angry kiss. I fought back, but he held me by the nape of my neck, deepening the kiss until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. He had bitten my lip. It was a kiss unlike any other in the ten years I had known him, fueled by both lust and a need to punish.

“I haven’t even met him.” “Exactly!” she shouted. “That’s worse! Falling for someone you’ve never seen is peak disaster energy.” “I’m not falling for anyone.” “Good.” She pointed at me again. “Because emotional damage is expensive. And I know you. You fall for men with mystery, danger, and cheekbones sharp enough to stab you.” “I do not!” “You SO do.” Mira narrowed her eyes. “And this man sounds like he invented cheekbones.” I let out a breath and slung my bag over my shoulder. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

I read the report expressionlessly, then deleted the report as well as my contact’s email. Victor was starting to regret everything, but I had long left his world. All of his belated devotion seemed like a joke to me. “Carolyn, you make such beautiful latte art!” The young new waitress interrupted my thoughts, leaning over the counter. I hurriedly pushed the cup toward her and chuckled softly. “It’s just a rose, nothing special. Go bring it to the customer.” “Carolyn…” She tilted her head and asked me, “Are you unhappy?”

Ace remarked. "I'd still have to go to the Vet MC to talk with the ladies. Raine, Kim, and Sam are telling their stories." She explained. "That shouldn't be a problem." Ace replied. "And before you ask, I'm only writing about the romance part and names are changed. Nothing about real club business. Everything I write is purely made up. After all you have to have some drama and bad boy stuff to spice up the reading and keep the readers entertained." Pamela explained. "I have one question." Ace replied.

25 March 1820 Rome, Italy Jacob was lounging on a chair and Mrs. Valentina Lombardi, the most sought after courtesan in Rome was sprawled on his lap, her lush body pressed to his as she tried to coax a reaction out of him. He knew all the other men watching him envied him. But for the life of him, he couldn't muster any enthusiasm for the act. Instead of finding her perfume enticing, he found it cloying. The smoke from the cigars made him feel suffocated.

The young woman sitting by me stopped her game and watched me rant in astonishment. When I ran out of angry words, she clapped her hands in succession, and it echoed in the silence. "Well said, Princess, but I think someone lied to you, just like they lied to some of them over there," she said, pointing to a point in the room's corner. "Over there in the blue dress is Princess Kit of the Blue Brook Pack. She was given away as an alliance gift to the Lycan King and found herself as a slave here the very next day. Following her is Princess Yvette from the distant pack region of the werecats. She was told that she was to be matched with the Lycan Prince. She has not gotten over the deceit that

I prompted, laughing as I pulled apart a long strand of mozzarella from my own supplí. Romeo glanced at me. The corners of his eyes crinkled faintly. “But the dopamine response is significant.” I burst out laughing. For the next hour, the world felt strangely normal. No paparazzi. No Adrian. No suffocating tension lurking around every corner. Just us. Two people sitting on cold stone beneath the sky talking about absolutely everything and absolutely nothing. Romeo told me stories about his residency in London, surviving on black coffee, rage and two hours of sleep.

“What are you reading?” I picked up the book, showing him the cover. “It's a romance novel. I've always been a fan of the genre" A faint spark of interest lit up his eyes. “Oh, really? I enjoy Romance too. Have you read any Sarah J Mass?” I smiled, an “Of course, I love Sarah. One of my very favorites" Damon's lips curved into a genuine smile. “Mine too.” “I put the book back down again and turned fully to him with a sad smile, “how are you taking the whole thing? The news about Isabella?”