Romantic Historical Fiction Novels Novels & Stories

Lance was already planning on the things he wants to do at the mall. One afternoon, Charm asked me to go around with her before going home. She looked so sad and distracted. We went to the Square and checked out the new stores and ate pizza. She told me she broke up with Franco. They had a misunderstanding and she's not really very patient. I was upset. I really liked Franco. He seemed so dependable, kind, and smart. "I think I got bored. I was looking again for excitement. Our relationship just went through that comfortable phase." Charm picked on her food. I retorted, "He's such a nice boy. He is exactly what you need. I don't know what else you are looking for." I wanted to kick her. I

” He asked but she kept quiet ” What’s the genre of the novel you’re reading?? ” He asked ” Michael don’t you think you should continue reading?? ” Lisa asked and faced him Michael smiled with the way her small lips parted while talking and suddenly got mad when he remember Rowan actually kissed her ,,,,what the hell?? ” Michael?? ” Lisa called making him come back to reality ” What’s the genre ” He asked ” I just said it’s romance,,but you were lost in thought, what are you thinking?? ” she asked

Back then, he had used this trick to win over her heart too. Looking back, she finally realized how stupid she was before. A man’s promise was only a lie. All the romantic gestures were traps to bedazzle the woman’s heart. The corners of her lips twitched into a sardonic smile as she held the bouquet of flowers. Matthew thought success was near upon seeing her smile. Immediately, he did as he had rehearsed before and led her toward the hall that was covered with fresh flowers. He readjusted his emotions, knelt one knee, and held her hands. “Christina, I like you. Be my girlfriend.”

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.

“I read I guess- “Wow, what type of novels do you read?” She grinned wearing an excited look. I don’t read novels though. “Historical?” I guessed since I like to read documentaries. “Wow, that’s interesting. I sometimes read historical novels as well. Not all the time though, I love its romance” She put in and I nodded and it was silence again. “I…I’m done with my drink. So, I should go” I told her after standing from my seat. “Yeah me too, let’s go” She eagerly stood and followed me. Oh God, I thought as she started talking again after we walked out of the cafe together.

I awkwardly nod at him. "Nope, you are wrong. You wrote a love story with a classic tragedy at the end." So what?! It is almost a shock, and it's a romance. "It's a romance." I contest. "No, it's not. Let me tell you what's a romance story is." He pauses and stands up. He begins to move as he explains. "A romance story is a type of genre in fiction novel which places its primary focus on a relationship and romantic love between two persons. Usually emotionally satisfying and has an optimistic ending. Romance story always has a happy ending despite the challenges of your plot." Oh! I understand.

I asked. “Another one of his historical smuts.” Henry replied, raising his voice to grab Ron’s attention. “This is fine historical literature not smut.” I snorted at that. “Fine historical literature my ass.” Henry said. Hen was right. I had once searched for a book in Ron’s vast library that did not involve a Duke being wickedly seduced by a temptress or a Highlander spilling his seeds into a moaning fair maiden and had not found any. Not that I was complaining, they were quite educative.

I forced my brain to assimilate the words until I couldn't take it any longer. I loved reading, in fact I had huge collections of crime and mystery novels because they were my favorite genre, but romance and historical . . . anything? Count me out. There was just something about ‘soulmates’ and romance that just grossed me out and the fact that this book had both just made me hate it. I stretched and yawned as I reached for my bed. I fell on my bed, face down. I didn't bother with my purple and white duvet as I let myself fall into slumber, Kenneth's smiling face the last thing I thought of.

In the center of the room stood an imposing mahogany desk with a leather chair. In front of it was a large black chaise longue resting on a round white rug. The atmosphere was luxurious yet discreet. Magnificent. I spent several minutes simply admiring the most beautiful room I had ever entered. Then I slowly walked along the shelves, stopping when I reached Historical Romance. Romance novels were what had brought me this far as a virgin. They were my Achilles’ heel, and there was nothing I could do about it. I picked up my cliché: Pride and Prejudice.

Seeking gratification before marriage was forbidden, and even then, her focus should be on her husband’s release, not her own. But she liked the way goosebumps spread across her skin as her fingers moved. She watched, transfixed, as her soft nipples hardened to rosy peaks beneath her touch. Her boldness grew as did her desire. She pinched her left nipple and startled at the sound that escaped her. A moan. Soft, breathless, unfamiliar. She had never made that sound before. She loved it. Heat bloomed inside her, spreading through her chest and settling low in her belly. Her breathing grew shallow, her chest rising and falling with each unsteady breath. Her cheeks were dusted with the prettiest