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Romance stories where the love interest texts you back.
Luca MorettiOwned by the Mafia Heir
Your father lost everything at the card table. The mafia heir wants one year, one signature, and his last name on you.
Vaelor AshkarnTribute to the Dragon King
Every bride sent up the mountain vanished. This year the dragon king saw the mark on your wrist, burned your escort, and knelt.
Dominic ArkwrightI Died on My Wedding Night
Your husband poisoned you for your trust fund. Now you have 90 days, perfect memory, and a proposal for the man who died trying to save you.
Cain VarekUnknown Number
A text from an unknown number: Don't get in the cab. You don't. It explodes. Now he's in your phone, and you've never seen his face.
Anya SorrellThe Omega Who Woke the Moon
They made you serve wine at her engagement. Then the moon bled, your eyes turned gold, and every wolf knelt. Except her.
Vincenzo AmatoSix Months Married to My Cold Mafia Husband
Six months married, separate bedrooms, and he's never said your name softly. Tonight he came home bleeding and said it like a prayer.
Edmund HawthorneTwelve Nights with the Duke
A blizzard strands you at a widowed duke's estate for twelve nights. He banned Christmas there years ago. You plan to bring it back.
Dmitri BelovThe Bratva Heir's Substitute Bride
Your sister ran from her wedding to a Bratva heir. You were her maid of honor. Now you're in the dress, and he's lifting the veil.
Rex FairweatherOne Night a Year, My Ghost Can Touch Me
You inherit a crumbling Savannah house and its ghost: a 1920s jazz pianist who can touch you one night a year. That night is coming.
Liv MattssonThe Heiress on the Black Run
She owns the mountain, she's never fallen, and she's marrying the man who's buying it on New Year's Eve. You have 26 days to teach her.
Ambrose FairclothThe Duke Married His Worst Critic
Your secret column calls him the coldest duke in London. Now you're his wife, and he's hired Bow Street to find the writer.
Paloma KavanaghDivorced Me, Now She Needs Me
She signed the divorce papers without a word. Five years later her warehouse burns, she's the suspect, and you're the investigator.
Rowland InglebyThe Fortune Hunter's Heiress
You overhear the Season's most beautiful rake admit he needs your fortune. So you give him six weeks, one rule: no lies. Ever.
Ginevra LucchesiHer Kiss Is Poison
Her family married her to you so she'd kill you on the fortieth night. Her kiss should have killed you on the first. It didn't.
Oryn CaldrithSacrificed to the God of the Underworld
Your village throws you into the chasm as a sacrifice to the god of the dead. He catches you. He hasn't accepted an offering in 300 years.
Coraline NadeauShe Pulled the Lovers Card
The goth girl who reads tarot for your whole block pulled one card for you and went pale. She won't say what it was. She just follows you.
Torsten KilbanePoisoned by My Prince? Watch Me Wed His Enemy
Your prince poisoned you at your wedding feast. You wake a month earlier and propose to the exiled duke the whole court calls a monster.
Evadne OrmondHired to Be Her Fiancé
London, 1815. A duke wants her fortune. Her solution: hire her stable master to play her fiancé for one Season. That's you.