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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
His Chosen Bride

His Chosen Bride

The waves roared like restless beasts, clawing at the jagged rocks beneath Gabriella's feet. Her fingers were stained with paint, the last remnants of the sunset she'd tried to capture before the storm rolled in. Now, the canvas lay forgotten in the sand, the wind tearing at its edges. She wasn't thinking about art anymore. She was thinking about him. "Stay still," Gabriella hissed, pressing harder against the wound on his side. Blood soaked through her scarf, dark and warm, and she swallowed the panic rising in her throat. The young man beneath her winced but didn't push her away. His eyes-dark as midnight and just as dangerous-locked on hers. "Why?" His voice was hoarse, as if he'd swallowed saltwater and fire. "I should've let you drown," she snapped, but her hands didn't stop working. "And you? Why did you to come washed up on the shore half-dead, bleeding like this? What did you do?" He didn't answer. Instead, he gave her a smile that made her heart stumble-sharp, wolfish, and entirely out of place for someone so broken. "I was running," he said. "From what?" His smile faltered, and for the first time, Gabriella saw the fear in his eyes. Not the kind born of pain, but something deeper. Older. "Everything." Lightning split the sky, and for a breathless moment, the world burned silver. Gabriella saw the marks then-the faint shimmer of scales along his ribs, like moonlight trapped under his skin. She froze. "What... are you?" The man's lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, he reached up and caught her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. "You can't tell anyone." Gabriella's pulse thundered. He wasn't human. Whatever he was, she should've run. Instead, she tightened her hold on him. "Who said I was planning to?" Their eyes locked, and despite the storm and the blood and the impossible truth unraveling between them, Gabriella felt the strangest pull-like the tide dragging her out to sea. And then he whispered his name. "Arik." It shouldn't have meant anything. But it did. And as the storm howled and the waves rose higher, Gabriella knew her world had just shifted. Permanently. Little did she know, it was only the beginning. ♤◇♤◇♤◇♤◇ In a world where legends rise from the depths and betrayal runs deeper than the sea, love can be the most dangerous tide of all. Sixteen-year-old Gabriella is a gifted painter, content with her quiet life by the shore-until the night she saves a mysterious, masked, dying stranger. Arik is dark, alluring, and more trouble than she's ever known. But as their worlds collide, Gabriella learns the truth: Arik is no ordinary man. He's a prince-and a merman-fleeing a deadly betrothal to a monster's daughter. Their forbidden romance ignites like wildfire, but court intrigue, ancient magic, and a vengeful enemy threaten to tear them apart. When Arik breaks his promise and doesn't return , Gabriella is left shattered, her love turning to ice-cold hatred. Now bound to a sinister force with her own dark agenda, Gabriella must decide whether to fight for the boy who broke her heart-or destroy him. As secrets unravel and tides turn, Gabriella and Arik must face the ultimate question: Is their love strong enough to conquer the depths-or will it drown beneath the waves?
THE MAD KING 1: THE FAKE BRIDE

THE MAD KING 1: THE FAKE BRIDE

**Aila was never meant to be queen.** She was never meant to be anything more than a cup-holder beside her gorgeous sister, Akila. But when Akila refuses to marry the Mad King, Aila must take her place-by committing the most forbidden act in the kingdom. A soul-switching spell. It was supposed to last three months. Three months, and she'd be free. But Akila tricked her, and now, Aila is trapped. Trapped in her sister's body. Trapped in a kingdom that despises her. Trapped in a marriage to a man who never wanted a bride. But nothing is more terrifying than the Mad King, her husband himself. King Ahsan-the faceless beast, cruel, unreadable, and dangerously sharp. The man the world fears. The man whose black eyes haven't left her since the moment she arrived. Now Aila must hide her secret, navigate the deadly palace, and survive the cold, ruthless king she calls her husband. But what exactly is Ahsan? A monster, as they say? Or something far worse-a broken man, cursed and craving something he cannot name? Something she was never meant to give. Find out. --- This is a slow burn romance, tension-filled romance, with lots of yearning, stolen glances and emotional devastation. Grab your popcorn, your drinks, and a load of napkins and watch how the mighty King falls on his knees yearning for his beloved. And welcome to my page, where I write broken but strong men, doing nothing except being utterly in love with their women.
My Unwanted Billionaire

My Unwanted Billionaire

“Tell me, Eleanor, do you like seeing me like this? Do you like seeing me angry with you?” he yells, banging the spot above my head. I keep my mouth shut so I don’t say the wrong thing and make him angrier. “Fucking answer me,” he says, roughly shaking my body. “N-N-N-o-o,” I stammer. Two-letter words have never felt more challenging in my life. “If you don't, then why don't you ever listen to me? The spanking wasn’t enough? Do you need me to unleash my beast on you before you listen to me?” he asks, and I shake my head this time to tell him no. I wonder what it’d be like if he released his inner beast. I would probably die because without it, I’m suffering already. “Then give me a reason why I shouldn't take you across my legs right now and give you twenty lashes on each ass cheek for laughing at something Evan said,” he says, and I pause for a minute. He’s furious with me because I laughed at what Evan said. I know he told me not to smile at other men except him, but this is too much, even for him. He’s angry because I laughed. I can't believe this. Does he expect me not to laugh when someone says something funny? If he does, then Mr. Crawford needs to get himself checked into a psych hospital because he’s crazy. “You shouldn't spank me because it's my right to laugh or not at what Evan said.” “You see, Eleanor, that's where you’re wrong. Only I can tell you if you can laugh or not.” “Excuse me?” I ask, looking at him confused and wondering if he’s on something. “I own your laughter, Eleanor.” “No, you don't.” “I do. And not just your laughter. I own all of you.” “No, you don't,” I repeat. Is something wrong with Mr. Crawford? Why in God's name would he think he owns me? “Yes, I do. I own all of you,” he says, whispering into my ear --------------------------------- Eleanor Brown is a lovely lady trying to make ends meets. She lands a job after an unfortunate event happens to her. She is excited and can't wait to start a new chapter in her life. Unknowing to Eleanor, this new chapter of her life will be filled with a lot of troubles. Her boss, Jason Crawford, believes Eleanor wants to work for him for other reasons, and since he can't fire Eleanor, he decides to make things difficult for her. Will Eleanor survive working with a boss who hates her, or will she quit and back off the deal even though she needs money?
The Biker's Fashion Designer

The Biker's Fashion Designer

WARNING: This book is strictly for mature readers. It contains extremely explicit scenes🔞, violence and vulgar words. Readers' discretion is strongly advised. When upcoming fashion designer, Serena Voss, lands a contract deal to create custom made riding gear for the notorious Frost Vipers' MC, she sees it as an opportunity for her to save her collapsing brand before Christmas. But nothing prepares her for the moment she walks into the clubhouse and meets Knoxx "Havoc" Whitlock, the club's dangerously hot president with sexy tattoos and a ruggedly handsome face. {Funny enough, they have met before, days ago at a coffee shop where she was so rude to him after she had mistakenly spilled her coffee on him. She didn't mean to act that way though, she was having a rough morning, most especially, waking up to a rejection mail from the last fashion house she had sent her design to.} Knoxx, on the other hand, remembers her quite well...the sharp mouthed woman who has been on his mind since the coffee shop incident. Glad to have Miss Attitude as his employee, he intends to thoroughly tame her in every way possible...including on his bed. No doubts, they are highly attracted to each other, have burning moments on the sheets, but their chemistry gets complicated along the line when Serena uncovers a buried truth: her brother died in a hit-and-run on Christmas Eve five years ago, and the bike in the police report matches one from the Frost Vipers' garage. As Serena digs deeper, she discovers that Knoxx is strongly connected to her brother's death. Caught between passion and betrayal, she finds herself tangled in outlaw codes, Christmas temptations and a brewing war. When a rival gang, Widow's Bite MC, launches a violent Christmas week ambush and Knoxx's second in command, Gavin aka "Bishop" happens to be with enemy, Serena must decide whether to run for her life or fight for the man who has claimed her body and soul. This Christmas, love isn't soft... It is savage... It is consuming. And it might be the only gift that either makes her win or lose everything...with Knoxx.
Nine Divorces, One Last Stand

Nine Divorces, One Last Stand

Five years. Nine court dates. One thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days of a marriage on trial. Today, my husband, Mark Thompson, filed for divorce for the ninth time. As if his infidelity with Sarah Miller wasn' t enough, he stood in court, tears in his mistress' s eyes, dramatically presenting a positive pregnancy test and declared, "It's time for Chloe to let me go." But I had proof. A grainy surveillance video from our living room, showing Mark, drunk, begging me not to leave, then savagely biting my earlobe in a desperate, animalistic act of possession. The judge, clearly fed up with Mark' s theatrics, denied the petition. Mark, enraged, swore he' d keep fighting until I was out of his life for good. His words rang true just three nights later. I was poisoned at a dinner, doubling over in searing pain, gasping for air. Mark found me clutching my stomach, but instead of helping, he dismissed my agony, saying, "Stop faking it, Chloe. You' re just drunk." Then he drove away, leaving me to bleed on the dark street, his chilling threat echoing in the night: "Just obey, or I' ll file for divorce again at the next hearing. I' ll make sure it' s the tenth and final one." As his taillights vanished, a profound stillness settled over me. This wasn't just a physical wound; it was a soul-deep laceration, cauterized by his indifference. Lying there, alone and abandoned, a decision formed in my mind, crystal clear and devoid of emotion. I was done.