Books In Flowers In The Attic Series Novels & Stories

I kicked open the attic door and slammed it behind me, twisting the rusted lock until it clicked. Silence. For a second. Then a low moan began to rise from the floor beneath me. I didn’t look down. Instead, I turned on my phone flashlight and scanned the attic. Dust choked the air, thick enough to taste. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling like curtains. But there it was. The Throne. A faded red velvet chair, carved from black wood, shaped like a blooming rose with thorns for armrests. A chair fit for a queen—or a sacrifice.

The red cardboard box is still there, and as we approach it I notice the lid is still closed from the last time my grandma shut it. I open it and the spell books and magic books are still inside. I blow the dust away and brush it aside with the kitchen towel. The book of elder magic floats in the air and a great light appears before our eyes. The pages move by themselves as the book glows in the air before us. The pages turn to a spell with a picture of the luna lily flowers on the page. I look at a mirror in the corner of my grandma's attic and hear scurrying on my grandma's roof.

I heard Papa calling from downstairs, but I couldn’t stop. “Come on, Brigid! We will get in trouble if they find us up here!” Aisling pulled at my arm before starting to put the candles, herbs, vials, and crystals back in the chest. My hands kept on with their task. I turned the crescent moon back before I opened the cover of the book. Thick black smoke began to pour out of the book. Aisling screamed from behind me. I heard Papa running towards us and clambering up the ladder to the attic.

I said, disappointed we hadn’t been able to interrogate anyone. My mother wasn’t deterred. “Reach out to the other packs while you are trying to get to the bottom of why.” She stood and walked over to the large wall of books. Thumbing over the spines, she pulled out a book and opened it carefully. I stood and peered inside. A dried flower lay on the pages, delicate and brittle. It was golden with five leaflets, the central three held above the rest. A jolt went through me. “Where did you get that?” My voice sounded hoarse, and she shot me a look.

All it wanted for me was to die of starvation, but I didn't want that have to eat. I turn my head, only looking at the brown trunk I had pulled out from the attic yesterday. It was heavy, and there was no one else helping. I woke up one morning and decided to pull out the old trunk and place it in my room as decor. I last opened it a while ago. I just fucking staring at it. It's not because it has been up in the attic for a long time and probably has spider babies. I don't have the strength to go through memory lane.

It was a reliable constant. "Not in the way people are," he continued. "She manages it. Actively. There's something underneath it, she's not indifferent, but what she shows is controlled rather than suppressed. The difference is in the eyes." I leaned back in my chair. Outside the window the grounds were doing what they did in late autumn, going bare and gray and cold, the kind of afternoon that arrived early and intended to stay. The trees along the east wall had dropped most of what they were going to drop. The training ground was empty at this hour. The compound was running at its usual pace around the disruption of having an unknown female in my bedroom, which was a sentence I had not an

Knowing he wouldn’t say no I cooked him breakfast and watched him eat it before heading up to the attic. I don’t know what I was afraid to find. Maybe I was afraid of what I wouldn’t find. Walking into the attic I walked straight to the desk pulling out Violet’s journal. I was amazed at her handwriting and her perfectly penciled drawings but it didn’t speak to me. I knew nothing about her gifts but I imagined it spoke to her. Nothing seemed to speak to me, not a single drawing not a single word.

The object in her hands shook, and the surface glowed a ghoulish amethyst. She dropped the book and stepped away as smoke rose in a spiral. The things in the attic rattled and knocked various stuff over and an unnatural chuckle resounded against its walls. April G’s orbs grew wide when out from the smoke, appeared a tall, elegant woman, dressed in an all-black gown with lilac hair, carmine eyes and yellow horns that protruded from her head. The little girl backed away more and stared up in shock and fear. She then heard her speak and recognized her voice as the one that tempted her earlier. [Gehennam ignis, tandem venit de miser libro!]

She said, huffing and panting as we made our way to the second floor. We crossed the long winding hallway and stopped in front of a partially hidden set of stairs that led to the secondary attic that nobody ever used. Once at the top she pulled out another key and opened the door, pulling me in and locking it behind us. I sighed as I stepped in, feeling the warmth of the room embrace me as I used the wall to my right to guide me further in. There were boxes and a few crates littering the room, along with some old furniture, portraits of long dead Du Pleasant family members and a large wardrobe filled with old clothes. Rosanna steadied me as we moved to the far back of the attic where she had

Beautiful if someone liked cold steel, icy desserts and a thrill of falling from a cliff, only to land in freezing water. We walked to the back, the atmosphere here was quiet and the décor changed from just white to shades of cream with golden and red splashes. A woman who looked to be in her late thirties approached us and introduced herself, “Hi, I’ll be the one assisting you. My name is Flora.” “Flora, bring out your latest collection,” Allister’s honey eyes dropped to my sneakers and he said, “And also something for my girl’s pretty feet.” I paused. But when I glanced at him, he was looking at Flora.