Christmas Amy Rose Novels & Stories

Conversation goes, conversation comes, and Augusto was already at the table enjoying Soraia's wonderful coffee, by the way, together with a toast and jam while Soraia said goodbye to Amy, who decided to go to her room and when she entered there. Amy entered the room and saw herself welcomed by the intense smell of flowers, then her eyes landed on the bed and stared at a beautiful and sumptuous bouquet with several flowers. -Did you like it? Amy jumped as she brought her hand to her heart, which leapt, "Oh, my God. Marcus laughed. -Did I scare you? Amy frowned, "I'm not one hundred percent wolf or vampyre to be able to hear you for miles. -The flowers are beautiful," she murmured as she leane

I picked it up and read: Dear Mr. Crawford, I hope you don’t mind the Halloween decorations. I wanted to create a fun and memorable experience for Liam. He was so excited about the holiday, and I couldn’t resist making it special for him. Please know that I haven’t forgotten about your preferences. This is a one-time exception for Halloween. I promise to return your home to its usual state after the holiday is over. Thank you for your understanding. Sincerely, Amy. I couldn’t help but smile at the note. It was clear that Ms. Amy had put a lot of thought into making this Halloween special for Liam.

Amy felt like something had possessed her. She tried to interact with Christina and she could see her, but she couldn’t understand the phenomenon. For a few minutes, Amy got a glimpse of Christina. It felt like her eyes were open to another dimension. Amy saw she was holding hands with a red-haired young woman who had a slender and shapely build. Amy saw the tears on Christina’s face. She could see her flawless ivory-white skin and her delicately beautiful Nordic facial features. She could see Christina’s full lips, her dainty nose, and her gorgeous, kind, but tormented arctic blue eyes. Amy could see Christina’s dimples. She could see her wavy, mahogany rose-colored hair, which flowed down

My soul aches with love so big it feels divine already. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For staying.” He smiles soft, real, unguarded. “I’d follow you into heaven, hell, or whatever this is.” Clara snorts, a spark dancing between us. “This is worse,” she mutters. “It’s a group project.” I burst into bright, ringing laughter and then The vortex pulls us in. Moonfire. Stormlight. Gold. All three exploding into a blinding, all-consuming brilliance. This is the end of Aria.

I gulped, shocked and mortified that my gift had been…it’d been… “But the lady who worked in the flower shop said…she said…” Sending me a wince of genuine sympathy, Isobel murmured, “Whatever she said was a scam. She had to have known black and blue roses weren’t possible.” “But…” I shook my head, feeling like a big gullible idiot. “I read all these rose books on roses, and I didn’t know. Maybe she didn’t either. Maybe—” “Wow,” Isobel murmured, watching me kind of sadly. “You just can’t believe anything bad about anyone, can you?” It looked as if she felt sorry for me—me—so I scowled defensively.

She punched the send button and put the phone in her pants' pocket, walking towards the door when someone called her. “Miss. Sloane.” It was Amy, the assistant head of the working team, the one in rank after Mrs. Kareena, she was dressed in a colossal gown like the ones Cinderella wore to a ball dance and a cowboy boot with a scarf tied to her head, a strange outfit for a British woman. “Oh Miss. Amy. How may I help you?” she asked in the most unsuspicious way ever running her fingers through her hair. The woman smiled, revealing her deep dimples at each side of the lower cheeks, “you haven’t decorated the groom’s room.”

Then my father’s voice sliced through again—only to break me completely. “Brace yourself. You’re getting married to Lucas Rodriguez by noon today.” I staggered backward, nearly collapsing. The room tilted. My hand struck a vase by the shelves, and when it shattered, dull red blood dripped from my palm onto the marble floor. They didn’t care. Not one glance. Lucas Rodriguez. The name alone made my knees buckle. I’d heard it whispered before—in boardrooms, in dark corners of the city, in the trembling breaths of people who knew better than to say it aloud. Enough to make men flinch in back alleys and moguls swallow their pride.

Bianca was sold to a mafia lord at a very young age and all she could think about was getting revenge. Her plan was going well until the mafia lord's son, Nico, came into the picture. Nico was handsome and cold, brutal but calm. However, when he met Bianca, she brought out his troubled side. He didn't want her. She didn't care. In fact, she hated him. She felt he was emotionless and he felt she was too tough. Both were intrigued. ~♡~ "The only thing stopping me from taking you right here on this table, is that you belong to my father." His voice was tensed and I didn't need to see his face to know how he felt. "My father's whore." He added. I swallowed, hurt by his words. "You

My throat gets dry so I gulp some more whiskey. I can't go through this every day. I am turning into a maniac. Like a crazy old cat lady. "Ethan. I love you but I love me more. I am sorry. Sorry for," I wipe the tears from my cheeks. I feel a sharp sting as my tears touch my bleeding knuckles. Fucking salt in tears. “Ethan, listen carefully. I, Alpha Ryan Damison," I gulp down more whiskey as I need balls for what I am going to say next.

she asked, smirking. The passionate charmer rewarded her with a hearty, masculine laugh that increased her desire for him even more. In response, the lust-filled redhead tried to move her hips to get more of him inside her. However, he countered by shifting his weight to keep her pinned and immobile under his beautifully muscular and firmly sculpted body. All the while, he remained inside of her, still not moving… Still hard. “Aaron, for the love of…” “Di, this is the first Christmas that I have my mate with me. I just wanted to tell you how important you are to me by being the first to greet you… Merry Christmas, Cherry Pie.”