Artfully Yours Novels & Stories

"And my mother, who knows every jeweler in three territories. And a pack full of craftspeople—did you see those carvings tonight? Those woven pieces?" I gestured to the sketches spread across the desk. "We could start small. A boutique line. Exclusive pieces designed by you, crafted by local artisans. Your vision, Frostveil's craftsmanship, marketed through existing connections." She stared at me like I'd suggested something impossible. "You're serious." "Completely serious." I picked up one of the sketches, a delicate bracelet with interlocking wolf designs. "This is professional quality work, Isabella. Better than professional. This is art."

Aria Vance never wanted a new family. After her mother marries a billionaire businessman Richard Hayes, eighteen-year-old Aria is forced to leave behind the life she knew and move into the enormous Hayes estate. But there is only one problem. Richard already has a son, Jaxon Hayes. And Jaxon immediately hates Aria. To him, Aria and her mother are outsiders who have invaded his home, his family, and potentially his inheritance. He makes Aria’s first year at Crestwood College miserable, constantly reminding her that she doesn't belong. But Aria has one secret, Blake Reed, Crestwood’s golden-boy hockey captain. She's admired him from afar for months but lacks the confidence to approach h

*Lily* I have been completely absorbed in my art studio within the past few days, devoting myself to my latest collection titled "Divine Energy." The recent circumstances of my experiences have instilled in me an unwavering sense of determination, which I have channeled into my artistry. The result is a series of bold and dynamic pieces, exuding a raw power that I am sure will resonate with anyone who views them. I feel this collection truly represents my artistic vision, and I am excited to share it with the world.

She needed the space to think, to process everything that had happened. The next morning, at exactly 9:00 AM, a soft knock on her door pulled Olive from her thoughts. She opened it to find one of the maids standing there, holding a beautifully wrapped box. The maid handed it to her with a small smile before disappearing down the hallway. Olive closed the door and sat on the edge of her bed, carefully unwrapping the box. Inside was a stunning red gown, the fabric so soft it felt like liquid silk against her skin. Rhinestones shimmered like fallen stars across the bodice. Accompanying it were exquisite diamond jewelry—a necklace, earrings, and a bracelet—each piece more expensive than anything

She opened her arms and said, "You have resigned, all the previous drafts you drew belong to the company! You cannot take them away!" Zoey coldly said, "Step aside." Ariana was half a head shorter than Zoey, and she looked up at her. "Zoey, it's just some discarded drafts. Why do you care so much?" Zoey's lips curved with a mocking arc, "Yeah, then why did you also care so much about some discarded drafts? What, can't you even draw discarded drafts?" Ariana caught a glimpse of Nelson's figure and firmly said, "Zoey, even if it's a discarded draft, it was still something you drew after learning some design at Born Beauty. This involves the secrets of Born Beauty, so you can't take it away!"

Austin cleared his throat looking Ryder in the eye. “Ryder, I think there’s been a misinterpreting thing here,” said his voice smooth and confident. Ryder kicked an eyebrow, a question mark across his face. "Oh? What kind of misunderstanding"? Austin grinned his condescending eyes twinkling. It's me who works on this project, Ryder. Sara here is nothing but my assistant. The glare in Sara’s eyes told of anger and an outraged face illuminated her mad. She was in disbelief of Austin claiming her work and mocking her contributions to the client’s presence.

It was born out of countless sleepless nights, sketch-stained hands, and a belief that art doesn’t need fame to be powerful. Maison Élitaire is not a shadow of the Blackwell name. It is the dream I built with my own strength—and I will continue to protect and grow it, as I always have. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for walking this journey with me. —Elena Blackwell.” She reread it three times. Her heart pounded, her throat dry. It wasn’t perfect—but it was her truth. Her mouse hovered over the “Post” button. For a moment, her hand shook. Then, with a deep breath, she clicked.

he repeated, as if saying it aloud made it real. Weeks later, they returned to the gallery where everything had shifted—the place of confessions, art, and fragile truths. Nora stood in front of her favorite piece, the one Jaden had painted: the girl curled on her bed, powerful and broken, seen and loved. She turned to him, eyes reflecting the same mix of vulnerability and strength. “I forgive you,” she said softly, voice steady. “Not because I had to, but because I want to. Because love… love is worth it.”

“A delivery for you, Mrs. Ravencroft. A courier said it was urgent.” “From who?” “He didn’t say.” Arwen took the box to her bed and opened it. Inside was everything an artist could dream of—professional-grade oil paints, real sable brushes, pristine canvases, all organized in a beautiful wooden case. At the bottom was a small card. One line in sharp, precise handwriting: For the woman you are when you’re not performing. No signature. But she knew that handwriting. Caelum. Another knock. “Mr. Ravencroft asked me to tell you the supplies came from Maison d’Art on Fifth Avenue. He said you mentioned loving that shop in an interview.”

“I think this looks perfect! My Adam!” With a sense of satisfaction and contentment, Ayana stepped forward to sign her name at the bottom of the canvas, adding the final touch to her masterpiece. As her brush glided across the surface, she felt a surge of pride, knowing that her artwork would forever bear her mark—a symbol of the time, effort, and love she had poured into its creation.