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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Eight Years, A Cruel Joke

Eight Years, A Cruel Joke

For eight years, I clung to Liam' s drunken promise, a joke he' d made at 14 that felt like a sacred vow. I transformed myself, chasing perfection for him, believing our 22nd birthday was finally our moment. But then, I overheard him plotting: our "promise" was a cruel lie, a scheme to get rid of me. He was in love with Sienna, planning a fake engagement and a rented baby to finally drive me away. My world shattered, reduced to nothing but the echoing laughter of his friends. Why was I always just an obstacle, a joke in his meticulously crafted life? I accepted an overseas scholarship, packed my bags, and burned every memory of him, ready to disappear. He publicly humiliated me, flaunting his engagement to Sienna at a charity gala. Then, when a planter fell, he shielded her, completely ignoring me as I lay bleeding on the floor. At my farewell party, he shoved me into a lake, leaving me to drown, just to protect Sienna. He chose her. Over his best friend. Over my life. My brother, Mark, came to my rescue, raging at Liam, but it was clear Liam felt no remorse. He claimed I was "unstable" and "obsessed," twisting every truth to fit his narrative. I left for New York, cutting all ties, determined to erase him from my life forever. Years later, Liam, broken and ruined by Sienna and her lover, Julian, desperately sought me out. He found me, happy and successful, with Alex-a man who truly valued me. I finally had the strength to tell him his apology meant nothing, that he was no longer my problem. The man who once dominated my every thought was now a pathetic stranger, utterly unimportant. I threw away his final, belated confession, a paper airplane of wasted love, into the New York sky. My journey from a broken girl to a celebrated architect, from chasing a false star to finding my own wings, was complete. I was finally free, soaring into a future he could never touch.
A Garden of Us

A Garden of Us

"A Garden of Us" blossoms around the lives of Dr. Elara Vance, a driven and brilliant botanist dedicated to revitalizing dying ecosystems, and Liam Thorne, a reclusive yet deeply empathetic landscape architect haunted by a past loss. Their paths collide when they are both independently drawn to the dilapidated, once-legendary "Whispering Gardens" – a vast botanical estate on the outskirts of Lagos, Nigeria, believed to hold unique, near-extinct flora. Elara sees it as her life's mission to restore its scientific glory, a pursuit that demands rigorous logic and painstaking effort. Liam, however, is drawn to its wild, untamed beauty, seeing in its decay a reflection of his own unresolved grief and a canvas for healing through art and intuition. Their initial collaboration on the Whispering Gardens is fraught with clashing methodologies: Elara's scientific precision against Liam's organic, intuitive approach. Yet, as they slowly, painstakingly bring the garden back to life, they find themselves nurturing not just plants, but a delicate, unexpected connection. The garden becomes a living metaphor for their own developing relationship, its seasons mirroring their evolving emotions, its resilience reflecting their growing trust. As they unearth the secrets of the Whispering Gardens, they must also confront their personal histories, overcome external pressures threatening their project, and learn to cultivate a love that is as enduring, vibrant, and complex as the garden itself. "A Garden of Us" is a sweeping tale of healing, growth, and the quiet magic of two souls intertwining to create something beautiful and lasting. How does this synopsis resonate with you? Are there any initial thoughts or feelings it sparks?
The Afterthought Boyfriend

The Afterthought Boyfriend

The pen hovered, ready to sign the lease for our new apartment, signaling a huge step forward after seven years with Chloe. This was supposed to be it, our future, a real home we'd finally share. Then, her phone buzzed for the third time in minutes, betraying the familiar source of chaos: Liam. "He needs me," she whispered, already pulling away, leaving me stranded with two unsigned leases and a bewildered agent. My heart sank when I scrolled social media to find Liam's smug selfie with Chloe, her arm around him, captioned "My angel, always there." Her follow-up text wasn't "Are you okay?" but an angry accusation: "Are you trying to make me look bad? I'm dealing with something real here." The supposed "crisis" was a lie, a performance designed to put Liam first, as always. Seven years of always being second, of cancelled plans and hollow apologies, now burned with the bitter truth: he wasn't having a relapse, he was just having my Chloe. Every single time, her excuses and empty promises had left me feeling like an afterthought, my feelings dismissed. How could I have been so foolishly hopeful, clinging to the belief that her fleeting affection was genuine love, not just a desperate cling to a safety net? Then, my boss offered an escape: a lead designer position in San Francisco, a chance for a fresh start. I was done with the lies, the neglect, the constant battle for a love that wasn't truly mine. Looking Chloe in the eye, despite my fever, I declared, "We're over. Your apologies are always too late." This time, I was choosing myself, walking away for good.
Married to My Protector: The Patriarch's Love

Married to My Protector: The Patriarch's Love

My office monitor, usually a serene portal to the grand Vance estate gates, offered a peaceful view of my perfectly ordered life. As Mrs. Vance, managing this dynasty was my daily routine, a far cry from my past as a script supervisor. Today, the screen showed him: Ethan Vance Jr., the man who shattered my world three years ago. Three years since he' d abandoned me at our Malibu wedding, turning my fairytale into tabloid fodder. He looked almost the same, carelessly handsome, but beside him stood Chloe Monroe, her hand possessively resting on a visibly pregnant stomach. My intercom buzzed with the news: "Mrs. Vance, Mr. Ethan Vance Jr. is at the gate, demanding entry." He strode in, still full of that entitled swagger, proclaiming his pregnant girlfriend would bear the true Vance heir. Then, with breathtaking audacity, he smirked and demanded I "make him some coffee," as if I were a mere servant to be dismissed and ordered. He truly believed he could waltz back in and claim what he considered "his," including a subservient me, as if no time had passed. The sheer insolence of his return, his assumption that I was still the heartbroken girl he' d scorned, was almost comedic. My heart, however, thudded with a cold, hard resolve, not the pain of old wounds. He stood there, completely oblivious, ready to strip me of everything he thought I had. But he had absolutely no idea about the incredible, unexpected life I had built since he walked away. Just as his arrogant pronouncements threatened to consume the opulent living room, the immediate future of the Vance legacy ran towards me. Small feet pitter-pattered from the hallway, followed by a cheerful shout: "Mommy! Mommy, can we go to the park?" A two-year-old boy, with a shock of dark hair and the unmistakable Vance family blue eyes, ran straight into my waiting arms. "This," I calmly stated, looking directly into Ethan Jr.'s now horrified face, "is your half-brother, Leo Vance."
Love With The Emotionless Killer

Love With The Emotionless Killer

LEILANI. I'm an orphan who was picked up by the roadside and left on the gate of a convent when I was a baby. I was raised by Reverend sisters and I spent all twenty three years of my life in the convent. I went to school there and did everything in the big convent, I've never been on my own until six months ago. When I told the sisters that I want to go out on my own, Sister Bernadette was scared because I've never been on my own before. Six months later, I'm doing fine. In a small quiet town, everything is great. The people are good. All was going really well.....until the day he showed up. The scariest man I've ever seen. And the way he looks at me? It's a look I don't understand but it never fails to send shivers down my spine. Who is he? What does he want from me? ZERO HE IS DARKNESS.... I am the bad guy of this story. Every story has a villain, and I am that villain. You can call me, Number Zero. Or Zero, for short. Frankly, I don't care. I am a born killer and I'm called The Killer Machine in the dark world, the part of the world do-gooders don't see. Think of every name you would call a professional killer, and give me that name, because you wouldn't be wrong. I would like to tell you that I try to do good, to do the right thing but that would be a lie. I don't see any need why I have to lie here. I am a very bad man, don't go searching for good because it's not there. I have so much darkness in me that if you stay in my mind for a long time, you go dark too. Don't mistake this for a confession because it is not. I'm not seeking for forgiveness and if you give it, I won't accept it. I'm not seeking for redemption here. My sins are my own. The first day I saw her, I just knew something. My new fascination. My first fascination in all my thirty three years of life. I must have her. I must make her mine.
The Betrayal That Broke Us

The Betrayal That Broke Us

My life with Julian was a decade-long fairytale, a testament to building an empire from nothing. He was the charismatic face, I was the quiet strategist; together, we were Thorne Industries, a force to be reckoned with. Then, a call from a school nurse shattered it all. "Is this Mrs. Thorne?" she asked, her voice rushed. I corrected her, a polite smile on my face. "It's Ms. Vance, actually. Is everything okay with Ethan?" "Ethan? No, ma'am. This is about your son, Leo Thorne." Leo Thorne. A name I didn't recognize, a son I didn't have. My world tilted. The nurse was calling for Julian's legal wife, Chloe-a woman I knew as his executive assistant, a woman whose eyes always lingered on him a little too long. Chloe, his wife, and mother to his son, Leo. The word "wife" echoed in my silent office, a brutal, horrifying truth. Every late night he supposedly worked, every solo business trip, twisted into a grotesque betrayal. Before I could even process this seismic shift, a sharp cramp seized me, followed by another. Blood. Our baby. Julian's betrayal was killing our child. When I woke up, the baby was gone. Julian, playing the grieving husband, told me it was my fault, "the stress." He acted the part, even as he tried to frame my miscarriage for his mistress and their son, a son he' d had for years, a whole life hidden from me. Then, Liam Sterling, my competitor and old college friend, sent an envelope. Inside were photos: Julian, Chloe, and two children, Leo and a girl I didn't know, a picture of a perfect family. And a text from Chloe: "Heard about the baby. Too bad. Some wombs just aren't meant to hold on." My fury, cold and clear, solidified into a single, diamond-hard resolve. They would pay. Julian, the monster, and Chloe, who had just admitted something far worse: she was the drunk driver who killed my mother four years ago, and Julian had covered it up. He thought I was weak. He thought I wouldn't fight. He was wrong. My voice recorder, hidden beneath my pillow, captured his monstrous plan: "Once Elara's baby is born, we'll tell her it died. Then we'll register the baby as ours." He was going to steal my child. The rage was a firestorm. I called Liam Sterling. "I want to destroy Julian Thorne. I want him to lose everything. And I want her in jail for the rest of her life." The game was on.
Seeds of Fury: The Discarded Wife's Rise

Seeds of Fury: The Discarded Wife's Rise

It was supposed to be my ten-year anniversary, a glittering party celebrating a decade I’d devoted to building Ethan’s empire. As I stood under the opulent chandeliers, Chloe, his sister, beamed, raising a toast "to new beginnings"—then pressed divorce papers into my hand. The celebratory evening shattered, turning into a public nightmare. While Ethan schmoozed with his Ivy League "ideal," Victoria Vance, I suffered a violent miscarriage right there on the polished ballroom floor. His family hissed, stepping back as if I carried a plague, and Ethan’s only concern was for the “scene.” Later, I found my meager belongings shredded, my grandmother’s cherished letter torn, and “GET OUT” scrawled in my own lipstick on the bathroom mirror. How can a man, who knelt at my grandmother’s grave swearing eternal vows and built his fortune on her ancient wisdom, accuse me of being ungrateful? For ten years, I was the mud from his bayou origins he desperately tried to scrub away, yet the foundation of everything he built. Now he wanted to erase me completely? But when his sleek new fiancée arrived with bulldozers, threatening to desecrate my ancestors' precious burial ground, the meek "swamp girl" Elara they thought they'd broken finally snapped. Clutching my grandmother's secret, powerful seeds, I vowed to reclaim my power, one fiery breath at a time. They wanted a show? I was just getting started.