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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
My Senorita

My Senorita

​For months, a mysterious, beautiful bird made Angelo's balcony her home. What Angelo didn't know was that his little visitor wasn't just a bird-and she had a front-row seat to his chaotic love life. Every single day, she watched a revolving door of women enter his apartment. ​"What is he doing? He seems to be enjoying himself..." the birdie mumbled to herself, peeping through the bedroom keyhole. Lost in curiosity, she leaned in too far. The door cracked open, losing its latch, and she tumbled onto the hardwood floor. ​When she looked down, the feathers were gone. She was completely nude, possessing the body of a stunning twenty-four-year-old woman. ​"Oh my goodness... how did I transform?" she gasped, staring at her new hands in shock. ​The heavens had taken pity on the lonely creature, granting her a human life. But with no memory of a family or a home, she was entirely at his mercy. Angelo named her Señorita. ​At thirty, Angelo is the ultimate eye-candy-and he knows it. Secretly dubbed the "National Playboy," he doesn't believe in love. To him, women are purely a pastime, and his only criterion is how good they are in bed. But fate has a wicked sense of humor, turning his innocent pet into his ultimate temptation. ​Bound together by necessity, the chemistry between them quickly ignites into a record-breaking, breathless romance. ​But Angelo's heart is a fortress. When the feathers clear and the truth comes to light, will he accept his Señorita for who she truly is? ​And more importantly... can a bird destined for the skies truly stay human forever?
A Heart Misplaced, A Love Bone-Deep

A Heart Misplaced, A Love Bone-Deep

Julian Laurent was known as the most notorious playboy in Rivermont, changing girlfriends as often as he changed his clothes and treating marriage like a joke. Clara Sterling, on the other hand, had always been the most quiet and obedient daughter of the Sterling family. Raised as the heir since childhood, she had been flawless in every word and every gesture. A family-arranged marriage forced these two complete opposites into the same life. On their wedding night, Julian openly made out with a young model at a nightclub. For the first time, Clara cast aside her propriety, slapping him and demanding a divorce on the spot. But before the next day was over, their families had forced them to remarry. This time, Julian managed to stay faithful for a month before he cheated again. Clara filed for divorce once more, cutting ties with him completely. However, that very same day, it was revealed that Clara was not the real daughter of the Sterling family, and she was thrown out. At her lowest point, Julian found her and solemnly promised to protect her from then on. They remarried again, and from that day forward, the scandals surrounding Julian ceased. Everyone said Clara was lucky. Even her best friend insisted that Julian had truly settled down, and Clara believed it. Until she saw him in a hospital corridor, holding her best friend's hand, his voice strained with deep emotion, "I never liked her. You're the one I've always loved!" It turned out all of his tenderness had been a lie. This time, she walked away and never looked back. And the man who had once treated her as disposable only realized after she was gone that he had long since drowned in her quiet love, unable to escape.
From Lost Puppy to Lioness

From Lost Puppy to Lioness

I left my old-money New England family, who thought my last name opened every door, to find something real. I found it in a new city, working a simple coffee shop job, and falling head-over-heels for a struggling musician named Ethan. He sang me love songs, and I poured my whole heart into him, convinced he was my escape, my true home. Then one night, at a crowded warehouse party, I overheard him. "The Aston Martin DB5 is practically mine," he laughed to his friends. "Did she really fall for the struggling musician bit? So naive it hurt." My world shattered. This "Ethan" was Ace Sterling, heir to a tech fortune, and I was just a bet, a "lost puppy" to him. My family, who had warned me, hung up when I called, leaving me utterly alone. Fired from my job, facing eviction, I even slept on a park bench, actively sabotaged by a smug cousin. Every door slammed shut, my life spiraling out of control. The humiliation was a burning sickness, but a cold anger started to replace the pain. He hadn't even flinched when I threw the vintage guitar pick – something I' d saved for weeks to buy for his dreams – at his face. He just watched me break. Years later, he found me serving drinks at a high-society gala, and condescendingly offered me a "discreet arrangement" to make me "comfortable" again. He thought I was still that broken girl, easy to buy and silence. He had no idea what he had just started. That night, Ava Monroe, the naive girl, vanished. Because a new Ava, one forged from the ashes of betrayal and humiliation, was about to rise, and she was coming for him.
More Than Ashes

More Than Ashes

The smell of smoke woke me up, a thick, acrid scent clinging to my throat. My heart pounded as sirens pierced the night, a chilling prelude. Three missed calls from Marco, my dad's sous chef. "It' s the restaurant. It' s… there was a fire." I ran, the air growing thick with the smell of burning wood and something chemical, something awful. My world shattered when I saw it: the hollowed-out shell of "The Amber Hearth," my parents' restaurant, my entire life, consumed by flames. A police officer stopped me, but I could only stare at the wreckage, the place my parents worked, lived, and breathed. Weeks later, I was living with Chloe, my food critic girlfriend, in her pristine, minimalist apartment. She supported me, made calls, held me when nightmares struck. "We'll get through this together," she promised. But that promise felt hollow when the simple click-click-whoosh of a gas stove sent me stumbling in terror, and she quickly turned it off, her embrace distant even as she whispered, "I'll be here for you." The cracks widened when she abandoned our quiet anniversary dinner, again, for Daniel, her 'anxiety-ridden' former mentor. "He needs me, Liam," she'd always say, framing his alleged illness as a virtue, my need for her as a selfish demand. I watched her move, efficient and precise, realizing I was just an obligation, a managed crisis she was bored with. Then, a text from my friend: Chloe's rave review of Daniel's new menu just dropped, a "Triumph of a Troubled Genius." The publication date? Last night. Our anniversary. She wasn' t working; she was dining with him, relaunching his career. The anger burned clean and hot; her entire compassionate façade was a calculated deception. When she walked in, I confronted her, the ugly truth filling her perfectly curated apartment: she chose him, lied to me, used my grief as cover. Her icy response, "If that's how you feel, then maybe you should leave," was all I needed. I left. Days later, I saw him letting himself into her apartment, confirming the sickening truth: I was just a convenient cover for their secret affair, a grieving fool in their shared territory. I had defended her, pushed away friends who tried to warn me, all for a lie. My anger, humiliation, and shame fused into a chilling resolve. I wasn't just heartbroken; I was done. This wasn't a relationship; it was a fraud. And now, armed with the brutal truth, I had to build something new, far from her memory.