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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
The Annoying Ghost

The Annoying Ghost

"Don't waste those tears on people who don't deserve you." A baritone voice lifted my head from my bow. The tall man was standing and leaning against the wall and had a fist. He was wearing a simple white polo shirt and slacks. It's beautiful, elegant and smooth---I'm even overwhelmed by the whiteness. "W-Who are you?" Wait. It's familiar. He's... He's the vocalist of a famous band and a car racer that's in the news because he had an accident and is now comatose! Shit! I was suddenly nervous. My tears spontaneously stopped falling when I met the man and were replaced by... fear. Even though it's handsome, it's still a ghost. Geez. There was a trace of shock on the man's face. "Do you see me?" "That's a ghost..." Putcha! I'm still afraid of ghosts, shit. A smile suddenly appeared on his lips. "Scared?" "H-Don't come near me!" Well, I don't have Holy Water! I was confused when he suddenly stepped closer to me. I want to stand up and run, but I can't move, probably because my knees are weak. But my heart beat even faster when he bent slightly so that our faces were level. His gray eyes stared at me. His nose is pointed, his eyebrows are thick, his lips are red, and his face is smooth. I couldn't help but praise him in my mind. Now he knows how many women are mourning him now. "It's ugly to cry." All of a sudden, my fear disappeared and was replaced by annoyance at his words. "What did you say?!" "The. ugly. you. turned out to. cry." How dare you repeat it! He moved away from me and laughed. I was insulted by his laugh. Even though I am like this, I can be proud of my beauty. Then... Grrrr. I looked at him badly and felt annoyed. "Calm down ugly. Your nose is smoking oh, pffft." I have stood up. The jaw clenched. "If you're ugly you're handsome?! If I'm ugly you're even uglier! shit!" I marched out and slammed the door shut. I still heard his laugh which annoyed me even more. If he wasn't a ghost, I would have really punched him in the face. But I can only say one thing.. That annoying ghost is totally a fucking jerk!
The Heart Condition That Wasn't

The Heart Condition That Wasn't

My life was stable. I had a good tech job, a beautiful home in Seattle, and a decade-long marriage with Jessica, who I thought was the love of my life. She was supposed to be on an overseas work assignment, a big career move we celebrated. Then the key turned in the lock-a sound I hadn' t heard in two years. And she wasn't alone. She pushed a double stroller into our living room. "Michael," she calmly announced, "meet Leo and Lily. They' re mine. And Ethan' s." Ethan. Her high school sweetheart, the one she always said was terminally ill and she was just "helping." My heart jumped, then plummeted. For ten years, Jessica had told me her heart condition made pregnancy too dangerous. I believed her, mourned the children we couldn't have. Now, she waved a dismissive hand, "My doctor said IVF was perfectly safe." Then she handed me a baby, telling me to quit my demanding job. "They need a stay-at-home dad. My work is too important right now." It got worse. I found intimate emails between her and Ethan spanning years, even our wedding anniversary. And a second mortgage on our house, taken out without my knowledge, the money likely gone to him. The final, gut-wrenching blow: I followed her to a honky-tonk bar. There, Jessica, who claimed to hate country music and beer, was line-dancing, beaming up at Ethan-tanned, fit, and very much alive. The woman I married was a stranger. My world was built on a decade of calculated lies. Whatever I felt for her shriveled up and died. I was done arguing on her terms. The next morning, I had divorce papers drawn up. I wouldn' t let her destroy me. I would reclaim my life.
The Runaway Heiress And Her Monster

The Runaway Heiress And Her Monster

With twelve dollars in my bank account and a freezing apartment, my friend forced me into a velvet dress to attend an exclusive underground party for free food. But the night quickly turned into a nightmare when a drunk thug attacked me, nearly strangling me to death in a dark hallway. Just as my lungs burned for air, a terrifying man stepped out of the shadows and shattered my attacker's bones. He was Axel Carrillo, the billionaire owner of the club. But instead of feeling safe, my blood ran cold. His dark, dead eyes perfectly mirrored the wealthy monster who had abused and locked me in a basement years ago. He trapped me in his VIP room, surrounding me with the elite crowd that openly mocked my poverty. I didn't understand why this ruthless billionaire was looking at me like a predator watching its prey. I had barely escaped the nightmare of the rich once; I wasn't going to let another powerful man own my life. Faking a twisted ankle, I stumbled forward, falling directly into his chest. In less than a second, I expertly slipped the thick money clip and custom leather wallet from his pocket, grabbed my broken stilettos, and ran blindly into the freezing night. I used his crisp hundred-dollar bills to pay my overdue rent, locking his silver-crested wallet in my desk drawer. What I didn't know was that Axel had let me steal it, smiling in the dark as he whispered to his security. "Let her keep the bait."
The Discarded Wife's Return

The Discarded Wife's Return

Our crystal chandeliers glittered in our San Francisco mansion. It was our tenth anniversary party, a celebration of a decade of my supposedly perfect marriage. Then, Richard stood by the grand staircase, his arm around a visibly pregnant woman I didn’t recognize. Jessica Wang, his new PR manager, beamed, placing a hand on her belly. His voice, smooth and practiced, silenced the room as he announced, “Emily and I are expecting!” The ensuing wave of murmurs and Jessica’s proud smile clarified the brutal truth. The humiliation was immediate and public. But nothing compared to the depths of his callous disregard that followed. He forced me to move into a guest room, demanded I cater to his mistress's whims, and even stepped over me when I collapsed from a heart attack. The ultimate betrayal came when he *forced* me, with my rare O-negative blood and congenital heart defect, to undergo a medically dangerous blood donation – for *her*. My life force, my very existence, was merely a disposable convenience for his new family. I was supposed to be a devoted wife, yet how could the man I spent ten years with be so utterly monstrous, so devoid of basic humanity? But as I lay weak in the hospital, gasping for air, a quiet defiance ignited within me. With my meticulously accumulated 'freedom fund,' and the unwavering clandestine support of a loyal friend, I knew this wasn't just an escape. I was going to dismantle his meticulously built empire, piece by excruciating piece, finally reclaiming my life.
The Fake Wedding, A Real Betrayal

The Fake Wedding, A Real Betrayal

Six years with Olivia Hayes, and we were finally making it official. I clutched our marriage certificate, crisp and new, ready to file the final paperwork at the city clerk' s office. Then, the clerk told me the document was fake. My heart sank. Olivia Hayes, my fiancée, had been legally married two weeks ago-to Mark Johnson, my former best friend and a tech mogul. I returned home to find Olivia humming, laying out macarons, a picture of domestic bliss, a complete lie. I later overheard her confessing on the phone how she never truly loved me; I was just "comfortable," a placeholder for Mark. My carefully constructed future shattered, replaced by cold certainty: I was leaving. But leaving wasn't easy. Mark' s neediness spiraled, turning our home into his stage. He faked injuries, weaponized his sadness, and Olivia, caught in his web, defended him fiercely, even bringing up my deceased father' s suicide to shame me. Her constant choice of him, and the chilling realization that my pain mattered less than his performance, twisted the knife deeper. Why did she keep falling for his lies? Why did her compassion vanish when it came to me? My escape plan to Seattle was set. But just as I was leaving, Mark' s ex-girlfriend, Sarah, attacked me. Olivia, seeing Sarah with a knife to my throat, still chose to believe Mark' s pathetic accusation that I staged it. That final betrayal solidified my decision. I blocked Olivia and left for Seattle, ready to start anew, free from her and Mark' s toxic charade.
I Once Loved My Foster Brother

I Once Loved My Foster Brother

For ten years, I lived a lie, pretending to be part of the wealthy Peterson family who took me in after my parents died. I, Scarlett Hayes, the orphan they graciously adopted, secretly cherished a forbidden love for their son, Brandon. My carefully guarded world shattered on my eighteenth birthday when I finally confessed my feelings. "I… I love you. Not like a sister," I stammered, only to be met with his cold, dismissive laugh. "Scarlett, don' t be ridiculous. You' re my sister. That' s all you' ll ever be." His words clipped my wings, but my foolish heart clung to hope for four more years, enduring his casual cruelties. The final blow came when his new girlfriend, Tiffany Chen, publicly humiliated me at his birthday party, accusing me of something I didn' t do. Instead of defending me, Brandon slapped me across the face in front of everyone, his act a brutal testament to his indifference. The pain, both physical and emotional, was a constant throb. How could the boy who once promised to protect me become my tormentor? How could I have been so blind, so foolishly devoted to someone who saw me as nothing more than a burden, a "guest" in his perfect life? And why did he give away the last piece of my dead parents to her, the music box, as if I simply didn't exist? But that slap, that utter dismissal, became my turning point. I had to choose myself. With a full scholarship to London for art, my true passion, I packed my single suitcase. I was done loving him. I was leaving, a one-way ticket to a new life where I would finally be free.
Substitute Wife for the Mafia King

Substitute Wife for the Mafia King

Dahlia thought that she would be marrying the man of her dreams when she took her twin sister's place in a political marriage. After spending a passionate night with her groom, she wakes up to find that he wasn't who she thought he was. Instead of marrying her twin's fiancé who was her first and forbidden love, she ended up marrying Bradon, the man known as the Mafia King of the underworld. With her sister gone after eloping with her lover and with the country's economic stability at stake, Dahlia has no choice but to continue playing the role of Bradon's willing wife. Little does she know that being the Mafia King's wife would be so physically and emotionally demanding. Being married to the cold, calculating, and dominant Mafia King changes Dahlia's life forever as his seductive touches tame her body and ignites her soul. With each kiss and caress, he teaches her of pleasures unlike any she has ever known and shows her a way to escape her dark past. Shunned by society and her parents since childhood for always being second to her twin sister, Dahlia's life had never been easy. With no one to take her side, Dahlia was used to fending for herself, but what if her only way to survive this time around is to find the key to unlock her husband's cold heart? My other books: Love Slave to the Mafia Boss's Passion, Forbidden Heat, Love Slave to My Devil CEO Boss, Conquering the Emperor, The Alpha Prince's Purchased Maid, and Lust Contracts
When Love Dies: A Spy's Escape

When Love Dies: A Spy's Escape

"You will be declared dead, Gregoria." That's what Agent Christian told me. My life as an FBI agent was about to end, replaced by a ghost. No contact with my past, not even my husband, Darwin. But then, a week before my staged death, I walked into our home office and saw it: Darwin's laptop, open, displaying a live video feed. My husband, shirtless, with his assistant, Elyssa Daniel. They were kissing. My world tilted. I watched, frozen, as he kissed her. The sounds they made were obscene. I recognized the unique lines of his body, the watch I gave him for our anniversary. I stumbled back, my hand shaking as I reached for my phone. I had to confront this nightmare. I hit the call button. On the screen, Darwin froze, then answered my call. "Hey, honey. What's up?" His voice, so normal, so full of lies, broke something inside me. The phone slipped from my grasp. My heart, my love, my entire world had been a lie. I spent the night on the office floor, replaying the video. The evidence of his betrayal was a digital tombstone for our marriage. Each time I watched, disgust and pain grew. I looked at my wedding ring, a mark of my foolishness, and threw it across the room. He thought I was weak, predictable. He thought I loved him so much I'd believe the sky was green. But the woman who loved Darwin Mcintosh died on that office floor. And in that moment, my mission, my fake death, felt like an escape.