Novel & Cerita Romantic Writing

Pulling out my headphones, I was busy scrolling my favorites when another sound brushed against my ears. The radio commercial was more annoying than anything else. They used to ruin the taste of a beautiful song, but there was something else. We are looking for you. Yes, we are looking for romantic writers, stories, poems, stanzas, convictions, and much more. Those letters you wrote to your lover, those thoughts that solved everything to bring them back to your life. Those unanswered prayers for that person your world revolves around. This time on the radio, we want to give our listeners more than they deserve. If you think you are in love and describe these feelings in well-narrated words,

In the growing light of dawn, the city of love seemed to hold its breath, as if acknowledging that within these walls lay a passion powerful enough to rival its own romantic legacy. Dawn painted the historic spires of Paris in shades of gold and rose, but my world had narrowed to the dangerous perfection of Nathan's embrace. In this moment, surrounded by centuries of romantic history and wrapped in the arms of my devastating billionaire, I understood that some loves transcend ordinary definitions. What we shared was as rare and precious as the diamonds he draped me in - dangerous, beautiful, and absolutely unstoppable.

Paige questioned, "Why aren’t you saying anything? Is it because the woman who admired you is now with someone else, and you're feeling uneasy? Isn't that how it's portrayed in TV dramas? When a woman pursues you relentlessly, you find it annoying. When she finally turns to someone else, you feel uncomfortable. "In reality, you've long grown accustomed to her pursuit, unwittingly falling in love with her. It's just that you never realize your feelings until she's gone. This is a classic case of not appreciating what you have until it's lost." "This is why it’s best you avoid those cheesy romance dramas," Chris casually remarked. "They lack substance and only lead to overthinking. Whatnots wi

“Erotic romance is a difficult theme to work with, and few are the talented writers who understand the essence of the theme. I deeply respect those who write, break taboos, and surpass their barriers!” Winking at me, Patrik approached again, making me take a few steps back until I fell into the executive chair. He crouched in front of me, placing his hands on my knees. “And I'm curious about the rest of your book, Mrs. Lis… We'll work on this project every day after work, and don't worry.” Smiling seductively, he added, “Your overtime will be well rewarded.” Squeezing a little higher on my thighs, he stood up and left the room, leaving me paralyzed and excited by his words.

The handwriting was loopy, written in English, and on light blue stationery with a floral design. Dear Lance, How are you? I hope that you are in fine condition when you read this letter. I am really shy to approach you, so I thought of writing you a letter to tell you how I feel. I first saw you last year when you were awarded the Most Popular Sophomore. You looked so handsome. Since then, I would always watch out for you. I thought you already had a girlfriend so I was really hurt. But then I learned that girl was just your best friend. I was so happy to know that. After all, she does not really deserve to have a handsome boyfriend like you.

“What are you? A slam book? How can you love yourself when you don’t even recognize love itself?” Romance never goes out of style. It does not wither or die like plants in a glimpse of summer. We fall into its captivating curse the moment we find perfection in a soul filled with flaws. The second we see beauty in the laceration of their scars and lips maneuvered by deception, we are bound to plunge into the deepest fragment of their life. The day our heart palpitates at a rapid velocity is the day we chain ourselves to an immeasurable misery.

"Can I tell you something?" "The beautiful thing about stories is that the protagonist always gets to write the ending. Not the villain nor the critics. You." She tapped my knee for emphasis. "You decide how your story ends. Whether you let them break you or break through." Tears pricked my eyes. "What if I don't know how?" "Then you write it one page at a time. One choice at a time." Her smile was kind. "And you remember that the best romances are the ones where both people choose each other every single day."

I stared at him gently and yet softly. “I owe you big time,” I said subtly. He looked at me while asking me why. “It’s because you make me feel fucking good, just like a woman should!” “Give me more of your goddamn pussy, boo!” he requested while I spread my legs wider. And wider! And wider! And wider! Just until my pussy dripped of water and I couldn’t take it any longer. Romance never had to be about sex; it was just about two souls, two hemispheres, who would come together to be one.

It pulled at something in me I should not possess. This is why I should stay away. I do not. Instead, I trace the faint pull of her thread until I find her again. She sits at her small desk, hair loosely tied back, laptop open, notebook waiting beside it. Her thumb rests on the trackpad as if she has been debating whether to write for some time. Then she exhales and begins. A romance manuscript. Her fingers move slowly across the keys. She writes of two souls drawn together by something deeper than fate. Two beings choosing one another even when the world insists they should not.

“Really.” “Yes.” “What kind?” “It’s a romance,” I replied. He smiled knowingly. “I suspected as much.” “And why is that?” I asked curiously. “Because people who write romance usually believe in something stubborn.” “And what’s that?” “Love.” I laughed softly. Before I could respond further, the kitchen door opened again and this time Diego stepped out carrying a tray of clean cups, though the moment his eyes landed on the table where Matteo and I sat his steps slowed slightly.