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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
THE NIGHTCOMET

THE NIGHTCOMET

Isn't this crazy, he walk into my room from nowhere that night drunked and kept calling me with a name I've never heard before. I wanted to push him away and scream but he looks broken as he hug more tight. "Veena don't leave me please"he cried and plead wetting my shoulder with his tears. I just let him do is thing until I suddenly felt his hand going under my crop top. "What are you doing" "Veena, I miss you"he kept saying. "I'm not Veena or whatever you call her"I responded but his hand kept traveling up and when he reach my br**ast he cup them into his hand and I moaned out of pleasure. The stranger has so much effect on me than I expected. Whosever Veena is, she must be a bitch for breaking a cool guy like him. I was wearing no underwear so he had access to my bare body. "What are you doing?"I stuttered but I was shuttl by his lips fitting perfectly with mine That was how Karla had a crazy night with a stranger who she didn't wake up to meet. After that day Karla forgot everything until he walk into their class the next morning as a new student but something is wrong somewhere he barely recognize her. Everyday in school they acted like stranger but every night he cry to her bed and eventually sleep with her but she never woke up to meet him. Is it normal? Her world turns apart when she started catching feelings for this guys who only noticed her in the night but careless about her during the day. What?! is that really possible!!! What is really going on?. Why would the strange guys never remember her during day?.
The Bodyguard I Hired Is My Billionaire Husband

The Bodyguard I Hired Is My Billionaire Husband

My father sold me to a monster to settle a debt. One minute I was a debutante at a gala, and the next, I was being hunted through the service corridors by my own stepmother’s security. I scrambled into a dark penthouse to hide, only to be pinned against the wall by a man whose body felt like a wall of searing heat. He smelled of rain and expensive cedar, his voice a low, pained growl as he gripped my wrist so hard the bone nearly ground together. The next morning, the "Wall Street Monster" arrived at our estate to collect his prize. My father signed the contract without reading a single page, trading me for a wire transfer while my sister laughed at my impending doom. "I heard he uses knives in bed," Kacy whispered, "Hope you have thick skin, sis." A balding, cruel man claimed to be my husband, but it was the silent bodyguard standing in the shadows who caught my tray when I stumbled. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through my veins, and his voice was the same gravelly baritone from the dark room the night before. I was terrified, caught in a web of lies about a disfigured beast who supposedly broke women for sport. I didn't understand why this "bodyguard" was looking at me with such predatory intensity, or why he was the only one who stepped in when my father tried to shove me. Then, inside the car, the bodyguard took off his sunglasses to reveal piercing blue eyes and a face that was devastatingly handsome. "I am Gideon Blackburn," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. "And in this house, there is only one rule: Never lie to me." The monster wasn't who they said he was, and he was about to show my family exactly what happens when you try to destroy something that belongs to him.
Marrying The Mafia Boss

Marrying The Mafia Boss

"Stop running around! I'm exhausted chasing after you, Quiy!" I scolded my child. Seriously, he's so hyperactive. It's like he's a worm sprinkled with salt. He's only three years old, but I feel like I won't even make it to his college years because right now, I already feel like giving up. I wanted this, so I guess all I can say is... just bear with it! Instead of listening to me, he became even more aggressive. I might as well carry him in a basket just to keep him quiet. "I'll leave you here, you’ll see," I threatened, but it seemed to have no effect on this little rascal. "If you weren't so heavy, I'd carry you, but you’re heavier than a sack of rice!" I complained, knowing I’d end up doing it anyway. Even though Quiy is a headache, I still love him, of course! Even if I were offered ten million, I’d still choose my child. We always playfully bicker, but of course, it's all for fun. It would be boring if we didn’t talk, right? There are only two of us, so we’d be wasting our words if we stayed silent. If he inherited anything from me, it's my quick tongue. But his seems to be on overdrive. Mine is still manageable... but his? It’s overflowing. "You're too slow, Mommy. I'm speeding up so we don't miss out," he said, rolling his eyes at me. If this kid wasn't just three years old, I might have done something drastic. "How can you miss out? We're in a grocery store. There’s plenty to buy, so you won’t run out," I explained. He let out a heavy sigh, raised an eyebrow, and crossed his arms. "Then why haven’t you found my diapers yet?" he argued, his eyebrow arching even higher. "They said there's no more stock of your diapers, ma'am!" I sarcastically replied. "See, Mommy? We're out of stock because you're too slow. You're like a pregnant lady. I saw earlier that another mom grabbed the last one of my diaper type. I was going to snatch it, but then I saw her husband. He’s so big, so I kept quiet," the little one shrugged. Why does he know so much? Sometimes I think maybe I’m just a joke to the world, that he’s actually the mommy and I’m the child because he knows more than I do. "I'm not pregnant. Where do you get these ideas? You look like a penguin—did you hear me say anything?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, you just did," he replied. Sometimes, I just want to put him in my pocket. He’s so annoying! He always has something to say! "Quiyana Louise," I called out his full name. Whenever I do that, he usually behaves because he knows I’m about to scold him. "I won't run anymore, Mommy," he said, pressing his lips together tightly. I nodded in relief. Thank goodness. I'm only twenty-four, but I feel like I’m sixty. It’s exhausting taking care of a mischievous child, especially one who’s always cheeky. If I didn’t love him... Even though he's the most mischievous, headache-inducing, and expensive child, I’d still do anything to give him the good life he deserves. I never experienced these things when I was a child because I wasn't born rich. There were even times when my parents couldn’t afford to buy even a kilo of rice, so the solution was to borrow from the neighbors. For me, there’s no shame in coming from such a life. Even now, I sometimes find myself needing to borrow money, but at least I know how to pay it back. I’ll work even harder to give my child a good life. "You’re smiling again, Mommy. I’m not being naughty anymore," I heard him say. That’s why I love this kid. At least he’s affectionate too. A smile slowly formed on my lips. He even clapped when I did. "My mommy is so beautiful..." he praised, something that probably only happens once a month. Most of the time, I just get insults from him. I don’t even know where he got that attitude from—I’m kind... and so are my parents. "Enough with the compliments, Quiy. I already knew that. Do you think complimenting me will make me buy you chocolate?" I looked down at him. "No. Your teeth will fall out," I added, causing his shoulders to droop in disappointment while pouting. He’s already missing teeth, yet he still wants sweets. Of course, I don’t want him wearing dentures at such a young age! Besides, I can’t afford such things. He stayed quiet, so I focused on the shopping list I had written. I’m the type who thinks of many things to buy while at home, but when I’m actually at the store... I forget. So young and already forgetful. I’d almost bought everything. Only Quiy’s diapers and milk were left. I was about to call him when my heart pounded loudly—I didn’t see him in the aisle where I was. I quickly put down the basket I was holding and took quick steps to search for Quiy. My heart raced even faster with every aisle I passed where I didn’t see him. Where could that child have gone?! "Quiy?" I called, but still no response. I had passed several aisles, but still no sign of Quiy. I must have called out every saint I knew, but still nothing. "Quiy, my child?!" I called out agai