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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
The unrelenting power of love

The unrelenting power of love

He was her one indefensible sin - the extremely rich person who left her when she wanted him most. Be that as it may, shortly Michael Drake is back, and the admission hanging between them takes steps to break everything... Elizabeth Parker sacrificed all that to bring up the child Michael never knew existed all alone. In an effort to give her young son the life he deserves, she has fought for years to live. But Elizabeth's perfect life is about to fall apart as her art store opens in the Hamptons. Since Michael Drake isn't simply her child's mystery father - he's her new business, claimed by the realm that could represent the moment of truth her career. Destiny has tossed Elizabeth's past rashness back right in front of her. This time, Michael demands information that she is hesitant to provide. An unknown adversary approaches Elizabeth and her child as tensions between them rise, putting them in unimaginable danger. Michael's angry security is unexpected...but the sizzling energy that actually consumes hot after this time is as well. He'll successfully guard them, regardless of whether it suggests leaving his billion-dollar organization. Even if it means losing her life for the child they share, she will do anything to finally have the family she has always wanted. Be that as it may, could they at any point beat the lethal mix-ups of the past before it's past the point of no return? Reality could destroy them. It could be even more evil to keep their secrets hidden. This meeting is certain to be...explosive, that much is certain.
My Grief, His Masterpiece

My Grief, His Masterpiece

The phone buzzed, a relentless vibration I tried to ignore, but Sarah' s furious face on the video call told me I couldn' t. My artist husband, Ethan, had unveiled his new exhibition, "Raw Truths," a brutal public dissection of our dead marriage. The centerpiece? A twenty-foot-tall projection of me sleeping, mouth open, drooling. The internet exploded, half calling him a monster, half calling me a willing muse. Then I scrolled to the next piece: a distorted loop of my voice, crying after a fight, packaged and sold as art. My phone buzzed again, Ethan' s name on the caller ID. Sarah, my lawyer, ordered me not to answer, but a primal urge to understand the "why" gripped me. He told me he' d made art, groundbreaking art. I screamed that he was selling my tears, my private grief, for fame. His response? This backlash was hurting his career. Then came the real dagger: he' d bring my devout grandmother into this, expose our secret marriage, destroy her if I didn' t release a public apology calling myself a willing collaborator. My world shattered. How could he? How could he use my deepest fear against me? Before I could even process his threat, my aunt called, sobbing. Grandma had collapsed, she' d seen something on the news. It was too late. He had already destroyed the last innocent part of my life. Lying in the hospital, my grandmother gone, I watched Ethan on TV, publicly mourning, accepting accolades. He had taken everything. My peace, my privacy, my family. A cold, hard resolve settled in my chest. If the world wanted a tragic muse, I' d give them a tragedy they' d never forget. I would erase myself from his world completely.
Red Hot Short Stories

Red Hot Short Stories

WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS MATURE AND EXPLICIT SCENES, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION 🔞 Note: This is a red hot romance short stories. Another book is inside this particular book so do not feel werid when reading it although you'd definitely find it intriguing!! The First Book Title: The Cold-Hearted Tycoon's Bride. Second Book Title: My Soulmate.(You'd see the synopsis after which this particular one has ended with a chapter that follows respectively.) ************** TITLE: THE COLD-HEARTED TYCOON'S BRIDE. BLURB "Isadora what right did you have to go shout at Rosa at her house?!!" He yelled. "I didn't do that, I just wanted her to stay away from you. I don't like the relationship you're keeping with her, I am your wife and I am jealous." "You're very stupid for that statement "my wife." Listen, you're nothing to me. This marriage means nothing to me. I married you by mistake. To me, you're just like a crazy fan, not my wife. So next time you should know where you belong. You're too low to my standards to call you my wife. And I have the right to bring any lady home because this is my house, not your father's house, you dirty thing from the slum," he said, pushing her away as he walked inside. Her name is Isadora Rowling. She was a huge fan of Leonardo Da Vinci but she accidentally ended up as his wife. He hated her because he was not planning on marrying her. She thought he would fall for her but she didn't know that he was a devil himself. What happened next? Would he eventually love her?
Beyond Broken: Finding Her Peace

Beyond Broken: Finding Her Peace

The headline screamed from the society page: CEO Michael Sterling' s Protégé, Chloe Davis, Flaunts Baby Bump. Five years of marriage, yearning for a child, shattered in an instant. Michael, my husband, promised it was a mistake, a drunken night he barely remembered. He knelt, he cried, he pleaded, and I, God help me, chose to believe him. He vanished Chloe Davis from our lives, and for three years, we were happy. Then came the news of a riot, Michael unreachable. I flew halfway across the world, frantic, only to find him in a quiet suburb, holding a child with his dark hair and blue eyes, another clinging to his leg. Standing beside him, heavily pregnant again, was Chloe Davis, looking at him with adoration as he smiled a truly happy smile I hadn' t seen in years. He saw me, his smile vanishing. On the silent ride back, he told me to accept them. His heirs. And since I couldn't give him a child, Chloe would come home, posing as a nanny. My hand instinctively went to my purse, clutching the pregnancy test I' d taken that morning-two pink lines, a miracle I' d been waiting to share. I snapped it in two; he didn' t even ask what it was. At the private terminal, Chloe, feigning terror, shrieked I was trying to harm her and her children. Without explanation, Michael slapped me hard. I stumbled, fell, and felt a warm wetness spread beneath me. Blood. "Michael," I choked, "the baby…our baby…please, help me." He sneered, "You' re pathetic, Olivia. There is no baby." He turned his back, leading his perfect family away, leaving me bleeding on the airport floor. In the hospital, he brought Chloe, ensuring she got the best care, accusing me of faking for attention. When I hemorrhaged, he panicked, but the final blow came when Chloe staged another fall, crying I' d hit her. Michael, already enraged, punched me in the stomach. An explosion of pain, and then, the last bit of warmth left my body. My baby was gone. He had killed it. But what about all the years I' d sacrificed for him, including my first child and my mother?
100 Reasons to Vanish

100 Reasons to Vanish

My life with Ethan was a fairytale. Diamonds cut like stars, a library wing, a best-selling book titled "100 Reasons Mia Hayes is the Center of My World"-he built a universe around me, declaring me his guide. I was his everything, or so I believed. Then, I found it. A hidden folder on his home office computer. Images of Ethan and a young woman, Skyler Reed, sickeningly intimate and explicit. My carefully constructed world shattered, a thousand glittering pieces falling around me. The betrayal was a physical blow, colder than any frost. Every grand gesture, every loving declaration, now felt like a cruel joke, a meticulously crafted lie designed to blind me. I remembered my one rule for us, whispered years ago: "If you ever truly lie to me, if you break that trust, I will walk away. And you will never find me again." He had laughed then, promising I was his universe. Now, his universe was a lie. A cold dread seeped into my bones. The fear, long buried, clawed its way up my throat. How could I have been so blind? So utterly naive? Was everything just a performance for his audience, for my adoration? The profound humiliation burned hotter than anger. But amidst the wreckage, a chilling clarity emerged. My world was destroyed, yes, but I was not. The decision was instant. Cold. Clear. I picked up the burner phone I'd bought months ago, a nagging unease I'd dismissed as paranoia. "It's Amelia Hayes," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "I need to activate the Disappearance Protocol. Immediately."