Romantic Poetry Books Novels & Stories

The rug was a lost cause, and so was I. Ava traced lazy circles on my stomach. “Still catching the morning train?” I laughed, raw. “Changed my plans. Indefinitely.” Ethan pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Good. We’re just warming up.” Liam’s hand slid between my thighs, teasing. “Chapter two starts at dawn.” I closed my eyes, sated and aching and already wet again. The lodge smelled of sex and pine and possibility. Outside, the mountain stood silent. Inside, three bodies curled closer, ready to write the next scene on my skin.

Chapter 3 I stood in the centre of all the books in the library, my fingers trembling as I flipped through another ancient history book, the pages brittle under my touch. The ink bled in places, the words looked smudged with how old they looked, but the message was clear…royalty must marry royalty. Always. Without exception.

Comment your thoughts too, please. My Other Books . . The Alpha’s Christmas Present – A Dark Werewolf Romance. . . That Royal Betrothal – A Royal Romantic Adventure story . . . Badboy and Our Wrong Love - A Highschool Love Story

Russell Samurai and Other Stories by William Meikle Stuck On You and Other Prime Cuts by Jasper Bark Poetry collections: WAR by Alessandro Manzetti and Marge Simon Brief Encounters with My Third Eye by Bruce Boston No Mercy: Dark Poems by Alessandro Manzetti Eden Underground: Poetry of Darkness by Alessandro Manzetti If you’ve ever thought of becoming an author, we’d also like to recommend these non-fiction titles: The Dead Stage: The Journey from Page to Stage by Dan Weatherer

He pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook, worn with age. He handed it to her without a word. She opened it. The pages were filled with handwriting, his, she realized. Neat, precise, but with a fluidity that spoke of passion held in check. Poems. Dozens of them. About light on water. About the curve of a woman’s neck. About the sound of rain on a tin roof. About grief that felt like drowning. About love that felt like coming up for air. She looked up at him, her throat tight. “You never stopped.”

“Like it’s just another war you have to control.” “It is.” “No,” she said firmly. “It stopped being just that the moment you kissed me.” Silence. Deep. Heavy. Unavoidable. “And now?” she asked. His breath slowed. “Now it’s complicated.” Nyra almost laughed—but there was no humor in it. “Complicated?” she repeated. “That’s what you’re calling this?” “What do you want me to call it?” She didn’t hesitate. “Real.” The word settled between them like something fragile and dangerous.

"I see you've still got these strawberry candies in your car, Joseph! Remember that New Year's Day event, when I had to go on stage to perform on the piano, but I was absolutely trembling from stage fright? You asked me if there was anything that might help to calm my nerves, and I mentioned strawberry candy… then you ran outside, through the pouring rain, to buy some for me! After that, every time I saw you, you always had some more of that candy for me. "Oh, isn't this…? I sent you a photo once, to show you the super cute teddy bear that I'd found somewhere… and you bought the same thing, yourself? "Mmmm… Joseph, you smell good! It's that brand of men's fragrance I pointed out that time, i

So he lit it and blew the smoke away from the room and towards the cold air of the night. "They won't forget about it," I answered him. "But it'll let them think of something else. The wedding of the century. Honeymoon. Kids. They have our entire future to plan." I took my robe from the foot of the bed and joined Lucas on the balcony. For a moment, there was silence. Only the crickets made the sound from the garden below. I leaned on the flat railings and looked up at the stupid stars twinkling above us, playing with the glass. Lucas did the same, blowing out a cloud of smoke away from my face. I knew that Lucas was thinking about his response and he was so tensed his jaw was twitching.

he asked with such politeness that Selene couldn't refuse, and her eyes lit up again. "Yes," she whispered in response. Frederick settled more comfortably in the chair and paid attention, feeling excited like a child. "Romeo and Juliet." "Eh?" "The book I have in my hands is about a tragic romance between Romeo and Juliet, by the author William Shakespeare. Do you still want me to read it?" she asked, unsure if he would accept. "I would be delighted to hear it, my Lady, please," he requested, and Selene nodded.

This was what contentment felt like. This was what having your entire world contained in your arms felt like. “What are you reading?” I asked, noting the way she relaxed completely against me, trusting me to hold her, to keep her safe. “Poetry. Some old collection I found in the back corner.” “Any good?” “Some of it. Though most of it is very dramatic. Lots of tortured souls and unrequited love.” “Sounds depressing.” “A little. But some of the love poems are beautiful. Listen to this one.” She opened the book and began to read in that soft, musical voice that never failed to capture my complete attention.