A contemporary mash-up retelling of Cinderella and Romeo and Juliet.Ella Sinders is content to toil away as a graphic designer for the company owned by her absent father. She spends all her time in the attic of his large home, taking orders from her stepmother, fear of what lies outside of her own front door keeping her from wondering afar—until an accidental phone call opens her eyes to the lies she’s been told. Now, she’s desperate to reach the man on the other end of the line to see if they can build a life together. However, the discovery that the one she’s falling for is the son of her father’s sworn enemy complicates the situation even more so than her stepmother’s deception.Rome Verona wants nothing more than to make a name for himself amidst the glitter and gold of LA’s elite. His father might be a big name movie producer, but Rome wants to build his own legacy. When an accidental phone call leads him to the daughter of his father’s nemesis, Rome will do whatever it takes to find Ella and set her free, even if it means giving up everything he’s worked so hard for.Can these star-crossed lovers overcome the obstacles and find the happily-ever-after they deserve?If you like high-drama romances with lots of twists and turns and plenty of opportunities to suspend reality, then you’ll love Ashes and Rose Petals.
View MoreThe bird was back. Perched outside of the attic window, it chirped a cheerful song, fluttering its wings and tapping its beak on the glass. Ella Sinders found herself distracted again. The bright blue feathers, the same shade as the sky behind the visitor, beckoned her to come outside, to feel the crisp spring air, feel the grass beneath her feet, gaze at the clouds as they rolled by, and forget all of her troubles.
But that wasn’t an option. Not only did she have more work to do than it would be humanly possible to get done in two lifetimes, she literally could not go outside. The door was locked. The door was always locked. Other than sticking her head out the small window and basking in the sunshine that way, there wasn’t much of an opportunity for her to enjoy the great outdoors.
“I’m sorry, little birdie,” she said, refocusing on the computer in front of her. “I can’t play right now.”
The bird sang its song again, and Ella hummed along as her fingers flew over the computer keys. The design she was working on was coming along. She thought her father would really like it. She just had a few more touches to add, and then she’d be ready to submit it for approval.
So focused was she on her work and the song she was humming, she didn’t hear the door open until it closed with a sharp thump, and then the key scraped against the lock again. Alarmed, Ella turned to see who it was. Relief washed over her when she saw it was only her friend, Mary Baker, the only one of the household's workers allowed to come into the attic while Ella was working. It wasn’t because she was the most trustworthy of the group; it was just because Ella’s stepmother, Teresa, disliked Mary almost as much as she disliked Ella, so she sent her up to the attic to do the dirty work.
“Sorry to disturb you,” Mary said, ducking her head. She was a tiny woman, thin, pretty, with a brown mop of short hair.
“Oh, don’t be silly.” Ella giggled and turned back to her work. “You’re not disturbing me. I just thought you might be… someone else.”
“Don’t worry. Mommy dearest is laying out by the pool, as are her worthless daughters.” Taking a few steps closer to Ella, she whispered, “I hope all three of them burn to a crisp.”
Trying not to laugh, Ella shook her head. “Be nice, Little Mouse. No need to lower yourself to their level.” The nickname was more for Mary’s size than the fact that her hair was such a mousy shade of brown. That and she seemed to attract the creatures.
Mary sighed, going about her dusting. “I don’t understand how you can be so sweet, Ella. They’re awful to you. Only letting you out of this attic for dinner. I don’t know why you don’t say something to someone.”
“Who? I never see anyone--except for you.”
“Your cousin Tim is allowed to see you. Does he know about your imprisonment?”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Ella didn’t wish to downplay the situation, but she knew Mary was right. If she had known what her stepmother had in store, perhaps she never would’ve come back from France. She knew she’d be taking an important job for her father’s movie marketing company, but she had no idea she’d never be allowed to leave the house.
Her father, Lloyd Sinders, one of the most successful, and thus wealthiest, movie marketers in the world, was overseas himself now and planned to be for the next several months. He had no idea that Teresa had her locked up. His wife had explained to Ella that the arrangement was “for her own good,” but Ella knew better. Teresa was still jealous of her mother who had died when Ella was seven. It was clear that her father still loved his first wife more than he could ever love Teresa. Though Teresa was a beautiful blonde with the nicest fake boobs money could buy, she didn't have the natural beauty Chantel Bisett had exuded on both the inside and out. Ella looked almost exactly like her mother, and it drove Teresa crazy. She had been a rival of Chantel’s when they were both models. Thus, Ella was locked away at least until her father returned. By then, Teresa must’ve hoped she’d decide for herself this is where she wanted to be.
Ella didn’t hate it as much as one might think. Of course, she longed to go out into the world, to feel the sun and the breeze. But she had no friends in LA. She’d attend school in France since she had been in grade school. Her Aunt Suzette had practically raised her after her mother died. It seemed her father, who professed to love her, also had trouble looking into the same eyes he missed so desperately since his wife had passed away.
Her two stepsisters, Anna and Drew, who were aspiring actresses, spent every night at dinner chattering about how horrible the world was out there. They were both beautiful, though Ella questioned their acting abilities. With the connections their stepfather had, they should have easily been able to get better parts than the commercials and walk on roles they were getting. Both of them complained that the world was a terrible, cruel place, one that would wad you up and spit you out. Why would Ella want to go out there if she didn’t have to?
Besides that, she didn’t look like the girls she saw in the photographs of actresses and models she worked on for the marketing campaigns. They were all blonde, with golden tans, big, fake boobs, and curvy hips. Ella’s dark hair, Mediterranean coloring, and thin build made her feel inferior to these actresses and other women in every way possible.
Here, in the attic, she was safe to wear her baggy pants and T-shirts, not worry about makeup, and never have to concern herself with being compared with others. If the other women in LA acted like her stepsisters, she didn’t want to have anything to do with any of them.
No, her best hope at this time was for her father to come home so that she could speak to him about going back to France. She was much more comfortable in the little village she’d lived in with her aunt. She had friends there. That’s where she was most happy.
“You have a phone. And email. Why don’t you tell your father what she’s up to?” Mary asked, sweeping the barren wood floor with a broom.
Ella shook her head. “You don’t understand, Mary. It’s more complicated than that. I don’t want to make Teresa hate me. My father will start asking questions before he believes me, and when she finds out, she’ll take both of those things away. My father will be back in a few months. I’ll talk to him then.”
“If he comes back when he says he will. He’s already extended his trip twice.”
“True.” The bird was still fluttering at the window, and for a moment, Ella wished she had wings so she could fly away. “I’ll be all right, Little Mouse.”
The housekeeper shook her head, but she was giggling. “I’m not as timid as a little mouse. Just because I have a way of attracting the little critters, that doesn’t make me one.”
Ella laughed, remembering how funny it had been each of the times the mice that slept in the walls came out to follow Mary around, curious about her sweeping, Ella supposed. She was some sort of a mouse whisperer. “I’m thankful that you’re so bold, Mary. It serves you well.”
“One of these days, after I’ve secured employment elsewhere, I’m going to accidentally leave this door unlocked. Then, you can escape if you’d like to.”
Turning her head away from the computer to meet her friend’s eyes, Ella smiled. “Don’t get yourself into any trouble on my account, Mary. I’m all right.”
“The moment you change your mind, you let me know.”
“I will.” Ella turned back to the screen, doing her best to ignore the echo of the lock clicking shut, sealing her in the attic indefinitely, at the mercy of a stepmother who was anything but merciful.
Nervous energy bubbled throughout the theater. Dressed in probably the most amazing gown she’d ever seen in her life, including her wedding dress, Ella sat next to Rome holding his hand, and waiting for his award category to come up. The long red ball gown shimmered in the dim light, its full skirt moving and flowing when she walked like butterflies’ wings. If Rome’s category didn’t come up soon, she thought she might explode with anxiety. It already seemed like they’d been waiting for half a day, even though it had only been a few hours since they’d gotten into the limo and made their way to the famous theater in Hollywood where the biggest award show of the year was always held.
It was a gamble. Attending Henry’s funeral was a risk because there would be people there who knew her as Ella Sinders, and as Juliet stood on the periphery, watching the black clad mourners gather around the casket where the pastor was speaking, she spotted the one person she most needed to avoid in the whole world--her father.Of course he was there. Even though Henry’s father had disowned him after he stabbed Rome and then killed himself, refusing to even fly his son’s body back to his native France or attend the funeral himself, Lloyd Sinders had
The fuzzy feeling in his head radiated down his entire body as Rome tried to open his eyes and found it much more difficult to do so than he’d ever experienced in his life. The realization that his arms and legs were heavy, that there were tubes protruding from various body parts, and that there was a steady beeping sound in the darkened room reminded him of what had happened as his eyes finally opened a crack.“Oh, thank goodness!” His mother’s sobbing voice was not at all what he wanted to hear upon realizing he was still alive, that Henry ha
Sitting in the hospital waiting room, Ella was doing her best to keep herself together, but she was struggling. The ambulance had arrived quickly to the scene at Capressies, where Rome lay in her arms, bleeding from the wound in his back near his lung. Henry had buried a six inch steak knife to the hilt. Whether or not it had collapsed Rome’s lung, she didn’t know. No one would tell her anything.The police had arrived a few minutes after the ambulance. While the EMTs worked to stabilize Rome, the officers had asked her a slew of questions about what had h
Not seeing Henry had become nearly impossible. Juliet had absolutely no desire to see him whatsoever, but his constant calling and insisting that she go out with him was getting old. Now that he no longer had control of Rome’s contract, she decided it was time to rip off the band-aid. She’d already told Parker that they were just going to have to be friends, a realization he hadn’t taken well, but she thought he’d get over. She wasn’t sure how Henry would react.She walked into Capressies knowing he was there already. She was purposely tw
Rome walked into the sound stage building, dreading every step he took closer to another day of pretending to chase around unicorns and annihilate them. Drew’s acting was almost as atrocious as the script. The little girl wasn’t bad to work with, but she could only be there for a few hours each day. He spent most of his time listening to Guy argue with the set construction team, hating his life, and praying that the lawyers would hurry up and process the sale of his contract from Henry to Lloyd. It had been two weeks since the Montage show, and so far, nothing had changed, even though he’d only given Lloyd one week to get it done initially. Every day, he walked past the Vinune, wrapped and stored in his living room so that if and when the sale went through, he
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