Sad Romantic Books Novels & Stories

Infinitely Ours" Romance Series (Buenovela) (Goodnovel) Libro 1 Cuando dejas tu corazon atras - Book 1 "When you leave your heart behind" Libro 2 Mi Corazon te pertenece - Book 2 My Heart will be yours Power & Temptation Mafia Series (Buenovela) (Goodnovel) Libro 1 Mafia Italiana - Book 1 Italian Mafia Libro 2 IVANOV, Mafia Rusa (Only A****n /Unlimited Kindle)

I hope that you enjoyed the new updated story for spicing up the ranch. I have quite a few other books listed on GoodNovel if you're interested in my style of writing. Some are erotic stories such as the assistant, Swedish sugar, the alpha son needs his match, and keeping it within the family. I also have science fiction romance such as Stardust. We also have quite a few other romance styles both in the past like a timeless love. And in the present such as the dangers of dating.

If you are a lover of erotic short stories with exciting plot, check out my book, “WET DREAMS: A STEAMY COMPLILATION If you love mafia stories, my book, SUBSTITUTE BRIDE FOR THE MAFIA DON will be perfect for you. Also check out, BILLIONAIRE ALPHA’S ACCIDENTAL SURROGATE, MIDNIGHT DESIRES, and my newest book, BURN ME ORION: THE BILLIONAIRE’S RECLAIMED OBSESSION.

He just shut the door behind him and began gesturing into the room, his eyes dragging across every inch of her body. Isadora’s body quivered from within, the look in his eyes stirring up something rough and dangerous within her. But she shut it out. Because… she couldn’t be dripping or desiring him again, like he and his brother didn’t fucking ruin her body like she was theirs to greedily ravish. “So, you are into stuff like this?” Damian asked, raising the book that she was reading. It was a dark romance, and the title was enough introduction about what the book contained.

Chapter 1 Lyra's POV I wrapped my legs tighter around his waist, pulling him closer against me. My body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for more contact. His deep groan vibrated through his chest and into mine, making everything inside me clench with desperate need. My fingers dug into his shirt as he continued kissing and sucking at my neck. He grabbed my waist, half-pulling, half-lifting me toward the bedroom. I felt more like a doll being moved than a person being carried. I knew this was wrong. I knew I shouldn't be here in his arms, and shouldn't be enjoying every second of this forbidden moment.

I watch intently with my brows raised as he removes a sizable oil painting from its place on the wall, unveiling a hidden safe that had been seamlessly integrated into the structure. I pivot on my heel and survey the colossal collection of books that had escaped my memory until now. The tips of my fingers delicately graze the uppermost edges of the book spines as my eyes glide over the titles. My fingers hover over one book in particular. It's a book that is very improper in Alessandros’ collection. This book is a historical romance novel written by Sylvia Day. One of Roses’ all-time favourite authors. Curiosity gets the better of me and I start to slide the book out, “come here, tesoro.” I

She was fully expecting him to give it one glance, and put it down with a caustic remark about trash, at which she would mutter something equally caustic about literary snobs. Instead he scanned it for perhaps twenty seconds. It was ridiculous to feel embarrassed, but she did. Not because he was reading about the imaginative contortions of Dominic and Natalya, but because he was probably imagining her reading them and getting all hot and erogenous in the process. In fact, she had not. As scenes of rampant nookie went, it had been disappointingly unerotic - more like a DIY plumbing manual than anything else. ‘Jesus,* he muttered at last. ‘This is anatomically impossible.*

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They were meant to be real. From the streets of Palermo to the crypts beneath Sicily, from betrayal to redemption, this series became more than just a dark romance — it became a story about what love looks like when it’s forged in ruin. About two people who refused to stay victims of their pasts, who built something sacred in a world that only understood destruction. There were moments in writing this saga where I cried for them. Moments where I hated them.

he interrupted. “Stop following me Jax,” I commanded establishing my authority changing the conversation because at the end of the day he was just a massive fan of mine. “No, I want recommendations on books, preferably the slow burns with two people trying to fight their connection when they were soulmates from the moment they met but they were blind.” I know what he was doing. He was trying to describe our romance but ours was a tragedy, not a romance in my books anyway. I huffed annoyed and played his game, by saying “I would recommend Birthday Girl by Penelo-“