Bubblegum Roses Novels & Stories

Havermouth, Five Years Before The new girl smelled like the roses around the river house, Cameron thought. Not the sharp almost artificial stink of modern roses, but the rich, soft, seductive tones of roses whose origins were hundreds of years old, and which had not been interfered with in the human search for the perfectly marketable product, but which retained their original beauty as nature had intended.

“Rose-“ But before I could even finish my word, I felt a hand wrap around my waist and then I was being lifted up and off of the floor and the world went black. **** “You can open your eyes now.” The first thing I noticed as Damien lowered me to the ground was the intense smell of black roses. Since they were different from normal roses, they had a distinct smell which was richer and stronger than any other rose in the world. It was also the only rose that stayed in bloom for an entirety of two months. As I had expected, when I opened my eyes, I was no longer standing in the Shelter, in the middle of the ocean, but in the inner gardens of Damien’s castle, the place where we first met.

Pink multiflora roses represented purity, while burgundy red ones symbolized the vow of unwavering love. Both types of roses embodied her longing to remain forever united with Cedric, the only person she wished to be with. Observing discreetly, the waitress quickly left to spare herself the discomfort of intruding on their intimate moment. Cedric navigated through the sea of flowers, his strides bringing him to her side. "These roses were all air-shipped from Gallia. Do you like them?" Her racing heart suddenly calmed down at his words, and Sophie looked up and met his gaze directly. "Did you really go to Gallia?"

I was utterly exhausted, yearning for some sleep. Looking out of the skylight, I was met with a vast, colorful sea of roses. The rose garden extended as far as the eye could see, spreading until it reached the horizon. Giselle informed me that Sebastian had employed over a hundred skilled gardeners to cultivate this garden, featuring rose varieties like Juliet roses, Louis XIV roses, Green Lemon roses, Rhodes roses, Pink Countess Eva roses, and many more superior breeds. The tower's top provided the best viewpoint for appreciating the rose garden.

Absolutely magnificent. The fragrances here seem to be amplified for some reason and stronger than normal. Maybe it is because the garden is protected by walls on three sides which lock the beautiful scents in. My eyes soak in everything, but soon stop at the various rose bushes at the back. I think every possible color is there: pink, red, white, peach, yellow and various combinations of each. Lance leans forward and his warm breath cascades across my sensitive neck and ear, sending a shiver through my body. “Do like the roses? I can take you over there.”

I can just call the phone number and see who answers. I bend down to pick up the rose, inhaling deeply before setting it back into its elegant vase of clear, faceted crystal. It has a rich, sweet smell, not the strange hollow scent of a typical store-bought rose. With a slender stem and delicate thorns, I can tell it grew in a garden where it had to struggle for its chance to bloom. Smiling, I feel a certain kinship to this rose.

"The garden is beautiful. That time of year is finally here. In the middle of the walkway are these rose bushes. When Salvetti's mother tried to revive the bushes, she almost tore the flesh from her hands." Lanaya's eyes widened as the rose bushes he was referring to came into sharp focus in her mind. She could observe the garden's vibrant foliage and a wide variety of flowers via the glass. The roses were a sight to behold in the deeper parts of the garden; some were pink, others red, but the boldest was a delicate blue and dark purple.

I growl, wanting to shove the card up his stupid Alpha ass! I held the flowers out, if they were from someone else I'd keep them. They're actually pretty! Beautiful long-stem roses, each rose was perfect without a single flaw. Those little white flowers, What are they called, babies, something or another are tucked in here and there, surrounding the beautiful roses. I grabbed the flowers in both hands, and broke them in half as I turned toward the garbage can. I growl as I shove them inside and walk away without looking back.

She still felt somewhat worried. In the Turner family garden, vast stretches of red roses were in full bloom. Due to special cultivation techniques, these roses grew like they were on trees. There was a small path between each tree, and as people walked through, the faint fragrance of the flowers would stick to them, leaving them in a relaxed and peaceful mood.

“While you were away. Lord Rustyn. He brought something from Lady Celia and the queen.” My jaw tightens. But my eyes are on the roses. Even in winter, the cursed things bloom. Blue roses that climb the black stone walls, their petals sharp against the frost. They wither and bloom in ghostly cycles, yet never touch the ground. Always vanishing midair, leaving behind only that sweet and rotten scent. It clings to your throat, making you feel the misery etched deep within it. “Rogues?” I ask, eyes narrowing on a cluster of petals curling into vapor.