Romantic Novel Reading Novels & Stories

She raised her brows. “Seriously?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Yes, seriously! Ah yous should check it out too, come I’ll read it out to you, it’s great!” She clapped her hands in excitement. “No thank you, you know I don’t read romance,” He shook his head. “But it’s a unique one,” She protested, “A popular mystery/thriller writer is thrown inside her own novel! How cool is that?” “Hmm?” he raised his brows. “Did it pick your interest?” She wiggled her brows. “Ah, the guy has the same name as you, by the way,” She added.

I needed to cut her off. "Look, they're doing the walking around the fire thing." She said. I hummed non committal. "I read about it in this book by Drethi Anis. Five thousand nights of obsession. The book was so good." "You read?" I asked. I had never seen any book in her apartment or caught her with a book. "Yes." She blushed, then quietly. "Romance books." "You don't strike me as the romance type." I looked at her intently. "Is it one of those raunchy books with shirtless men carrying scabbards on the cover."

Okay, maybe I actually read them often. She looks up at me and flashes me a dazzling smile. “I wonder where it is then… where you learn your romantic tendencies from. Reading romance novels could be very informative to guys. You could learn a thing or two from the male leads.” “My romantic side is natural, baby. I was born this way. A book can’t teach me anything I don’t already know,” I say as I lick my lips and rub my hands suggestively. She throws her head back and laughs. The sound is as beautiful as the music of angels.

“That rather gives the plot away, no?” I laughed. “Romance novels aren’t known for being subtle.” He plucked the book from my fingers before I could react. He held it over my head as he flipped through it. “Where are the love scenes? Ah, found one.” He raised one golden eyebrow as he began to read aloud: “‘A fire lit in her belly. Damian’s hands were magic. Everywhere he touched, it was like fire across her skin.’” “Oh my God, stop—” He just held the book up higher. Tall people were the worst.

"Good. Let's sit." We found seats in the back. Vivienne Bunn's voice filled the small space, reading from her latest book. A dark romance about a woman who falls for the man sent to destroy her. I got lost in her words. The cadence of violence dressed as poetry. Obsession framed as devotion. For forty-five minutes, I forgot about everything else. When the reading ended, people began lining up for signings. I started to stand, but Lucien's hand landed on my knee.

So I’d brought actual recreational reading – the kind with swoony romance and emotional devastation instead of clinical diagrams. “Listen to this,” I said, looking up from my book. “He took her hands in his, his voice barely above a whisper: ‘I have loved you since the moment you stumbled into my library, covered in rain and righteous indignation. Will you do me the extraordinary honor of becoming my wife?’” “That’s terrible,” Alonzo said without looking up from his laptop. “It’s romantic!” “It’s predictable.” “Predictable can be comforting. Not everything needs to reinvent the wheel.”

Raphael, filthy, and incredibly mischievous. The thought of the discreet encounters they could have all day long makes her gasp for air. As Jannis's thoughts swirl with the limitless potential of their clandestine romance, her pulse beats with excitement. In response to Jannis's excitement, Jake chuckles softly. He gives her buttocks a good smack and squeezes them together. You're being quite mischievous, my dear. However, I adore it.

I leaned in a fraction of an inch, a teasing glint in my eyes, "I prefer classic literature. Russian realism, psychological thrillers. Dostoyevsky, Fitzgerald, Hemingway. I like substance." "Substance?!" Ruby mocked, completely offended. "Are you implying my romance novels don't have substance? Excuse you, but enemies-to-lovers tropes require intense psychological maneuvering! The angst! The tension! It's art, Alexander. Your little Russian thrillers have nothing on a slow-burn romance."

“Yes.” The honesty caught me off guard again. Simon walked deeper into the library slowly, and I became hyperaware of the storm outside, silence inside, and the fact that they were completely alone, again. Simon stopped beside the couch. “What are you reading?” He asked. I looked down at the cover quickly just to avoid his eyes. “Some romance novel.” One corner of his mouth tilted faintly. “Any good?” I swallowed hard. “Depends.” “On?” I looked up reluctantly. “Whether you like toxic men, I guess.”

If he wants that I read this book then no problem I will do it. After spending my precious ten minutes I realized that this a romantic novel on Ceo and his secretary now why on earth he wanted me to read something like this. I threw the book on the desk as he leans back in his chair in order to give me a full look at his face. An expressionless face.