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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Blank Pages: Rediscovering Love

Blank Pages: Rediscovering Love

Sara dedicated ten years of her life to Rodrigo Montenegro, her husband. ~ "Screaming won't solve our problems, it just annoys me, Sara," he said. "Everything annoys you," she retorted, tired of fighting for that marriage. "I wish I had never fallen in love with a self-centered, emotionless person... I want to erase you from my heart forever..." She hadn't finished unloading her anger and frustration when, driving over a puddle, the car skidded. ~ A time erased from her memory by an accident. She was startled and pulled her hand back when she saw a tall, imposing stranger standing beside her. "Still angry?" He ran his fingers through his short hair, the dry tone revealing his displeasure with her behavior. "Sara, let's stop this foolish fight." "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't even know you." ~ In search of answers, she rekindles old relationships. "Long time no see." With his hands on her waist, he looked her up and down with interest. "You look very beautiful." "Thank you." Sara smiled shyly. Time had been kind to Robson; her ex-boyfriend had become more masculine, handsome, and charming. ~ While falling in love again with her husband. "I'll never tire of making you mine, Sara," Rodrigo confessed, caressing her face. Sara couldn't remember anyone devouring her like that. That was definitely a good reason to have married him, she thought amidst the haze of passion enveloping her mind and body.
The Fire That Wasn't An Accident

The Fire That Wasn't An Accident

The smell of fresh paint and new beginnings once filled my home, a modern marvel I'd designed myself. Eight months pregnant, every kick from my baby boy was a promise of the future Ethan and I were building, a future meant to erase the rubble of a past fire that had stolen my family and left me scarred. Then, my husband, Ethan, appeared on national television, not with the triumph of overcoming tragedy, but with a confession: he had been wrong, and my loyalty in defending him all those years ago was "misplaced." His words painted me as a liar who had protected a guilty man, shattering my hard-won peace and leading to the immediate, terrifying loss of my child. Left heartbroken and drugged in the hospital, a hushed conversation revealed an unthinkable betrayal: my deceased baby had been conceived with the eggs of Leah Chen, the very woman Ethan had just publicly wronged, and she spoke of "our daughter" with Ethan, confirming a monstrous deceit. Was my son-my real son-truly gone, or was this yet another layer to the lies woven by the man who claimed to love me? Forced into therapy by Ethan with Leah' s husband, Dr. Ben Carter, I stumbled upon a recording of Ethan confessing his hatred for me, seeing our marriage as punishment, and learned with chilling certainty that the fire that killed my family was no accident, but a consequence of a truth I unknowingly distorted. Publicly shamed and professionally destroyed, I was left discarded, labeled "Crazy Ava," but from the ashes of my broken life, a ferocious determination was born: I would uncover the full extent of their deception and make them burn for what they had done.
When the Queen Returns

When the Queen Returns

I built Liam Carter's political career from nothing, forging him into a powerful Senate candidate. Our engagement gala, a critical fundraiser, was set to crown us as D.C.'s ultimate power couple. But on that perfect night, the doorbell rang. It wasn't the catering staff; it was Brianna, a junior aide, clutches her very pregnant stomach. "It's Liam's," she whispered. Liam burst in, canceling the gala to manage the "crisis," his eyes colder than ice. He ordered me to stay silent, to protect his career, then swiftly blacklisted me from every connection I had built. Even my own parents sided with him, more concerned with appearances than my broken heart, dismissing his betrayal as a "man's needs." Isolated and professionally ruined, I watched my carefully constructed life unravel. The final blow: Brianna flaunted my hand-knitted scarf, a symbol of our struggles, now a dog bed for her new puppy. That scarf wasn't just fabric; it was a piece of my soul. Seeing it desecrated ignited a rage so pure and hot, it shattered any remaining pretense of civility. This wasn't just politics or business anymore; this was about my life, my history, everything I held sacred. I called Liam. "I want you to lose," I told him. " I want you to feel what it's like to have everything you've ever worked for turn to ash." With a new alliance by my side, I walked out, ready to reclaim my name, my power, and rewrite my future, no matter the cost.
Forever

Forever

"You must be punished, Eleanor." He rasped, his deep rich voice sending tingles down her spine. Pulling her away from the wall, he hoisted her up on his shoulder. A squeal of horror escaped her lips as she immediately clutched his shirt from back in her tiny fists, eyes looking at the floor in terror, because of his Goddamn mighty height. "Put m-me d-down." She stuttered as he hooked his other arm behind her knees and kept her legs firmly close to his chest. He took big steps and within a few strides, he was in his room, he locked the door making her breath hitch. "W-why are y-you locking the door." She stuttered again. A squeal escaped her lips when her world changed its position again. Leon threw her on the bed and watched her tiny yet luscious frame bouncing on the bed twice. Eleanor raised her body on her elbows as she watched him remove his shirt with ease. Her throat went all dry when her eyes landed on his naked muscular chest, eight freaking packs, and v line. She didn't dare let her eyes trail further down as she snapped her eyes up to meet his silver ones and she stiffened. Dark intense silver pools peered at her. Uh Oh! **** “She's rich, he's a bad boy, a burglar. She's submissive, he's tractable. She's caged, he's wild. She yearns for freedom, his life is adventurous. As the tale says "Opposite attracts!" But then there's this rich man who's overly obsessed with the innocent heiress. A sweet, romantic story filled with lots of action and love but with a dark side.” Hot and Steamy… 18+
Kidnapped Bride, Unexpected Knight

Kidnapped Bride, Unexpected Knight

My wedding day was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, but I found myself tied to a chair in a dark, moldy basement, a burlap sack ripped from my head. The kidnapper held my phone, reading my fiancé Ethan Riley' s name, demanding a thirty-million-dollar ransom. Desperate, I called Ethan, but his line was busy-forty-nine times. On the fiftieth try, the kidnapper lost his patience, breaking my ribs with a punch, calling me "useless." The physical pain was nothing compared to the cold dread that settled in my heart. Why was he so busy? A week ago, Ethan paid a thirty-million-dollar ransom for his childhood friend, Chloe Davis, without hesitation, abandoning me at our wedding rehearsal to deliver the money himself. Then, a video message from Chloe lit up my phone, which the kidnapper held to my face. Chloe smiled, cooing, "Sorry, Sarah, Ethan's a little busy right now. He's putting my shoes on for me." The camera panned to Ethan, kneeling, gently sliding a crystal-heeled shoe onto her foot. But it wasn' t his devotion that shattered me; it was the dress Chloe was wearing – my wedding dress, the one my mother had made for me. A white-hot rage surged through me. I screamed for the phone, but the kidnapper smashed it, severing my last connection to Ethan. He then dialed Ethan on his burner phone, putting it on speaker, and calmly declared a new ransom: "One dollar. For every time he doesn't answer, I cut off a finger." On the fourth ring, Chloe answered, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Oh, Sarah," she sighed, "You have the worst timing. Ethan's busy getting a band-aid for me." I screamed, "I've been kidnapped! Tell him I've been kidnapped!" Chloe laughed, calling me dramatic. Then, Ethan' s voice, cold and impatient, filled the silence. "Sarah? What is this? Chloe said you're playing some kind of game. Kidnapped? Again? This is a new low, even for you." He hung up. The kidnapper reached for my hand. "Well, it looks like he didn't answer." He severed my pinky finger with rusty pliers. The blinding pain made my world tilt. I begged him to video call Ethan, just so he could see. Ethan appeared, annoyed, with Chloe beside him, dabbing a tiny scratch on her foot. He called me a liar, manipulative, and selfish, accusing me of trying to ruin their wedding. I showed him my mutilated hand, the bloody stump where my pinky used to be. For a second, he hesitated, a flicker of horror in his eyes. But then Chloe shrieked, "That is disgusting, Sarah! Where did you get that fake movie prop?" She sobbed dramatically into Ethan' s chest. His brief doubt vanished, replaced by a storm of protective rage directed at me. "Look what you've done," he snarled. "You're making Chloe cry. All you do is cause pain. You're a monster." He hung up, telling me never to call again. The kidnapper picked up the pliers again, eyeing my ring finger. "Let's get rid of this one next." My ring finger, the one holding all my broken promises, was severed. Then, he live-streamed my torture to the world, revealing me – Sarah Miller, Ethan Riley' s supposed fiancée – bruised, bloody, and broken. Comments flooded the screen: "Fake," "Awesome special effects!" until people recognized me. The kidnapper cursed, ending the feed, but then showed me another video: Ethan and Chloe, at our wedding venue, getting married. Chloe in my dress. Ethan' s voice, clear and steady, saying, "I do." My world went black.
The Billionaire's Blind Devotion

The Billionaire's Blind Devotion

Ethan Caldwell, the silent, brooding man I hired to protect me, became my world. I’d found him battered and broken in an alley, a lonely art student extending an impulsive hand. For months, he was my quiet guardian, his intense gaze a constant comfort. Then my stepsister, beautiful, fragile-looking Chloe, entered our lives. She spun a story of childhood bravery, of saving a boy, clinching it with a cheap, painted whistle she swore was a cherished memento. Every word was a lie. In an instant, Ethan’s loyalty mutated. His icy stare, once a barrier to the world, turned on me, accusing. Chloe, his supposed childhood savior, became his singular, toxic obsession. His "protection" transformed into a relentless torment for me. My art, my passion, systematically obliterated. My masterpiece, ruined by her "clumsy" accident. My painting hand, my Achilles tendon, deliberately shattered to cripple my future, all dismissed as "an unfortunate incident." My own father and brother, swayed by Chloe’s manipulative pleas, turned their backs, echoing accusations of my "jealousy" and "instability." Ethan—the man I saved, the man I trusted—suppressed undeniable evidence of Chloe's deceit, even orchestrating her winning a prestigious art competition with *my* stolen designs. I lay physically broken in a hospital bed, isolated, bleeding internally from my stepsister's calculated cruelty. How could the man I saved—the man who claimed to protect—become my ruthless tormentor? Was his devotion to Chloe’s fabricated innocence so profoundly blind he’d sacrifice *everything* for her: truth, justice, even my life? When they demanded a public apology from me for Chloe's lies—a condition for receiving life-saving medical care—something inside me snapped. At a high-society gala, facing their public condemnation, I finally hit back. I raised my cane. Not at Chloe, but at my own mending leg, deliberately inflicting fresh horror to expose every lie, every betrayal. This was my fight, and I would make them see the truth, no matter the cost.
The Dying Wedding Planner

The Dying Wedding Planner

Ash Miller, a celebrated wedding planner, wove magic for countless couples, but her own dream-a meticulously crafted vintage garden wedding with Ethan-remained just a plan after seven years. Unbeknownst to him, this unfulfilled dream was cloaked in a far more chilling reality: a secret, advanced breast cancer diagnosis, gnawing at her life and her hope. Then, at the very New England estate she'd chosen for her vows, Ash witnessed a scene that stopped her heart: Ethan, her Ethan, standing under their sacred oak, reciting vows not to her, but to a radiant Chloe, clad in white. He brushed off Ash's stunned presence with a casual wave, then shockingly handed over her entire five-year wedding design-every detail, every flower, every cherished vintage touch-to Chloe, dismissing it as "just a client." As Ash, heartbroken and physically ailing, watched her stolen dream unfold, the final, brutal blow landed: a sparkling Tiffany solitaire on Chloe's left hand, paired with whispered rumors that Chloe was Ethan' s "great lost love." Her meticulously planned future, her fragile hope, and her hidden battle against a terminal illness were all laid bare and trampled. The agony wasn't just in the betrayal of her love, but the realization that her life' s most profound moments, her final wishes, had been pilfered and handed to a stranger, all while her partner remained blind to her suffering, her impending end. How could the man she loved so deeply, the one she was dying to marry, be so heartlessly cruel, so utterly oblivious? With nothing left but the gnawing pain of a dying body and a shattered soul, Ash took her first, decisive step toward reclaiming her last moments, walking out of his life and leaving him behind to confront a devastating truth far more terrible than any infidelity.
Scandal, Love, and Redemption

Scandal, Love, and Redemption

I' ve loved Liam O' Connell since I was sixteen, a secret crush that deepened into an all-consuming love for my deceased brother Jake' s best friend. For eight long years, he saw me as nothing more than Jake' s kid sister, a responsibility he honored by keeping me at arm' s length, even when my heart ached for more. He gave me his "blessing" when I, heartbroken and exhausted, agreed to marry Ethan-a kind, safe man I hoped would help me finally move on. But then Jake' s hidden journal surfaced, revealing the truth: my brother hadn' t wanted Liam to push me away; he' d wanted us together. Liam' s noble sacrifice was a lie he' d told himself, and me, for a decade. Just as I tried to build a new life, Liam came back, sweeping in with desperate confessions and grand gestures, pulling me back into the chaos I' d tried so hard to escape. Then Olivia, his conniving business partner, arrived, flaunting their "relationship" like a weapon and brutally sabotaging everything I built. I watched as my dreams, my carefully constructed peace, and my deepest desires were twisted into a public scandal, fueled by the very man I couldn' t stop loving. The betrayal, the public humiliation, and the sheer audacity of it all left me fuming, trapped in a nightmare of his making. But I refused to be a victim any longer. This wasn't just about my broken heart; it was about reclaiming my life, my passion, and proving to him-and to myself-that I was no longer a girl to be protected, but a force to be reckoned with.