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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
His Wife's Secret, His Burning Rage

His Wife's Secret, His Burning Rage

For six months, I clung to the belief my wife, Sophia, was in Europe saving her family's struggling hospital-the one I' d poured my career into. Then she came home, stepping out of the car beaming, but not alone; her personal assistant, Mark, was with her, pulling her luggage. "I have something wonderful to tell you," she chirped, taking my hand, her eyes betraying a nervous flutter. "I'm pregnant," she announced, placing a protective hand on her stomach. My heart soared until her gaze shifted to Mark, and she added, "It's not yours." The world spun. My wife, pregnant with another man's child, stood before me in my home. "I'm three months along," she offered, clinically. Before the shock could fully register, she brazenly declared, "I need you. The baby has a congenital heart defect. A procedure only you perfected." She wanted me to save her lover's child. I was a surgeon, not a pawn. "No," I choked out, but her mask crumbled, revealing a ruthless stranger. "You will. Or I'll divorce you, tell the world you refused to save an innocent child, ruin your reputation, and destroy the hospital you built." Then, a chilling memory resurfaced: our miscarriage, years ago. Sophia had been oddly dismissive then, saying, "It was just a bunch of cells. Don't be so dramatic." Now, overhearing her on the phone with Mark, it clicked: "I'm not going to do something stupid like go jet-skiing just to show off for you again. We learned our lesson, didn't we?" Jet-skiing. She' d been eight weeks pregnant with our child then. She' d risked our baby' s life to impress him. My child hadn't been an accident; it had been a calculated choice. The love I felt for her vanished, replaced by a cold, hard resolve. I would do the surgery. But the moment that child was stable, I would burn our lives to the ground and walk away.
Hearts Entwined In Time

Hearts Entwined In Time

Synopsis: Heart's Entwined in Time In a world where time weaves through the threads of fate, Arianne possesses a mysterious gift: the ability to glimpse into different eras. When she encounters Kaelen, a stranger whose presence feels hauntingly familiar, she learns that their souls are bound by a centuries-old curse, destined to meet in every lifetime only to be torn apart by forces beyond their control. As their paths intertwine, Arianne and Kaelen discover the legend of the Heartstone, an ancient artifact that holds the power to break the curse that keeps them trapped in an eternal cycle of love and loss. But with each passing moment, the weight of their connection grows stronger, and the dangers surrounding them multiply. Together, they journey across time, facing trials that test their trust, their hearts, and their destiny. Along the way, they confront betrayal, forbidden magic, and fierce enemies who seek to keep them from fulfilling their fate. As the truth of their curse unravels, they are forced to make an impossible choice: break the curse and lose each other forever, or remain bound by time for eternity. Heart's Entwined in Time is a spellbinding tale of love, sacrifice, and destiny, where time itself becomes the greatest enemy and the truest ally. In a world where the past, present, and future collide, will Arianne and Kaelen's love endure, or will they be lost to the tides of time forever?
The Heiress Who Refused to Break

The Heiress Who Refused to Break

After months of unspeakable horror, my skin caked with mud and my clothes in rags, I finally stumbled back into the gleaming world of the Vanderbilt estate, seeing the rising sun for the first time in ages. What I met was not the loving embrace of my guardian, Alex Vanderbilt, the man I secretly adored, but a sneer of utter disgust on his perfect face as he stared at my emaciated body. The chilling truth soon emerged: the ransom for my life, which he had deliberately dragged his feet paying while I suffered daily, was the exact amount of the trust fund my deceased parents had left me. Back in my 'home,' I was treated like a grotesque inconvenience, while Alex's vindictive mistress, Jessica, openly reveled in my agony, even confessing she expressly prodded my captors to inflict "rougher treatment." My grand opulent prison quickly became a hell of psychological torment, far worse than the physical scars. How could the man who was supposed to protect me, the very family who were my guardians, not only abandon me to such a fate but actively exploit my suffering and orchestrate my torment? The raw, burning injustice felt like a brand, deepening my despair and rage. In that crushing moment, I realized my parents' final gift, that trust fund, wasn't just money; it was my defiant path to freedom. I would use every penny to escape this gilded cage of betrayal and reclaim my life, no matter the dangerous fight ahead.
Divorce, Design, and True Freedom

Divorce, Design, and True Freedom

The scent of expensive perfume and cheap ambition hung heavy in our penthouse, a silent testament to David' s reign. He paraded aspiring influencers through our home like trophies, their bright young faces a constant reminder of the life he flaunted. I, Sarah Miller, the successful interior designer, was merely an accessory, observing from the periphery as he draped his arm around a blonde named Tiffany, asking me to help her pick a profile theme color. My reflection in the glass showed a stillness, a silent defiance to his polished, empty smile. Later, after the glitter and champagne spills were gone, he cornered me, not with affection, but with business: "We need to be more aggressive with fertility treatments. I' ve scheduled you a new consultation for Monday." Three years of invasive tests, painful injections, and crushing disappointment, now weaponized against me. Then came the ultimate blow: he wanted to use a surrogate, one of them, for his legacy, expecting me to manage it. The humiliation was a physical weight, pressing down on my chest as he pulled me into a hollow embrace, whispering, "You' re the only one I love, Sarah." The very next day, a new girl, Emily, was paraded through the penthouse, her wide, innocent eyes mocking my reality. He kissed her, deeply, passionately, right in front of me, then looked straight into my eyes before turning back to her with a whisper that made her giggle. That night, sitting in my design studio, the last piece of this life that was truly mine, I drew a line. A final, absolute line that would redefine everything.
When Love Dies: A Spy's Escape

When Love Dies: A Spy's Escape

"You will be declared dead, Gregoria." That's what Agent Christian told me. My life as an FBI agent was about to end, replaced by a ghost. No contact with my past, not even my husband, Darwin. But then, a week before my staged death, I walked into our home office and saw it: Darwin's laptop, open, displaying a live video feed. My husband, shirtless, with his assistant, Elyssa Daniel. They were kissing. My world tilted. I watched, frozen, as he kissed her. The sounds they made were obscene. I recognized the unique lines of his body, the watch I gave him for our anniversary. I stumbled back, my hand shaking as I reached for my phone. I had to confront this nightmare. I hit the call button. On the screen, Darwin froze, then answered my call. "Hey, honey. What's up?" His voice, so normal, so full of lies, broke something inside me. The phone slipped from my grasp. My heart, my love, my entire world had been a lie. I spent the night on the office floor, replaying the video. The evidence of his betrayal was a digital tombstone for our marriage. Each time I watched, disgust and pain grew. I looked at my wedding ring, a mark of my foolishness, and threw it across the room. He thought I was weak, predictable. He thought I loved him so much I'd believe the sky was green. But the woman who loved Darwin Mcintosh died on that office floor. And in that moment, my mission, my fake death, felt like an escape.