Crimson Widow Novels & Stories

the warrior asked me again. Without further ado, I knew that I had to give an answer. "If you promise that my maid, Ophelia, my assistant, Andreas, and the people who supported me are safe and sound, I’ll marry you." For a while, the Crimson Warrior was looking at me with his emerald green eyes. "It's a deal then," he responded. ***

Jared asked her She gave nonresponse. All she did was jump into the air and fly away. Jared didn’t know that she could fly. He got into his cat and followed her. She landed right in front of the cemetery but she was stopped by a boundary spell. She knew that she shouldn’t be here. She knew that the first thing she had to do was cremate her sister so she can return her power back into the ground but she wasn’t ready for that. She tried to bring down the barrier spell but she couldn’t. She was frustrated and she landed on her feet before breaking down in tears. She cried for hours and Jared held her hand. When she was done, she went back to Jared’s apartment to get her sister’s body and that n

Scarlett then noticed both her attire and her mother's turned into old grey gowns with white bonnets over their heads. "Where are we?" She asked her mother, a breeze blowing over their gowns. "Home. Pastonville, 1699." _______________________________________________ No one would stand absolutely NO CHANCE in taking on the Crimson Bride. Zayne knew that. An untamed she-beast until one who takes her blood controls her. The power from her reawakening was so immense, that he could still feel it even if he went out of state. The scent from her was incredible, warm caramel invading his nostrils. His taste buds tinkled and his anticipation kept his stomach twisting into knots and twists. He knew wh

They looked exactly like doors. “What kind of employment?” she asked. Theodore slid the folder across the desk. “Estate records, correspondence, archival inventory, and administrative support for the Widow’s Fund.” At the name, Benedict’s eyes flicked toward Theodore. There it was again. That little shift. The kind people made around loaded weapons. “The Widow’s Fund,” Violet repeated. “My late wife’s foundation.” Eleanor. The photograph. The sad eyes. The lake. Violet looked down at the folder but did not touch it.

A recognition that lived below thought. The woman's eyes opened fully. Crimson. Not human. Deep glowing red lit from somewhere inside, burning steady and old and alive. Tyra stepped back. "Who are you." "You already know," the woman said. Her voice was warm and cracked at the edges like something that had been through fire and come out the other side. She moved forward, each step soundless on the black soil. Her crimson eyes moved over Tyra's face with a desperation that was almost physical. Like someone who had been kept from something for so long that seeing it again hurt. "You have always known."

Evangeline's Pov "She was holding up remarkably well." "Poor thing. So young to be a widow." "I heard she got his shares now." The whispers followed me like flies, and I let them because that’s what widows did. We floated through rooms in black dresses and let people say whatever they needed to say to make themselves feel better about death.

The sound of my laugh. It was being pulled out of him. And because I was connected, it was being pulled out of me too. My knees hit the salt. My vision began to flicker. "Yes," the Widow hissed. "The Healing Wolf gives the best silk. Your love is so much heavier than theirs. It will complete the shroud." "Amara! Break the connection!" Femi's voice was a mile away. I couldn't. The red light was a parasite. It fed on the emotion it found. The more I loved the man on the ground, the faster the Widow could drain us both.

She had taken her time to dress appropriately, every design on her gown was well calculated, every ornament on her body was chosen with intent. She was wearing a deep crimson dress embroidered with silver threads, a reminder of her position and a deliberate statement of her power and bloodline. Just in case any of those elders forgot. The soft rustle of the silk filled her ears as she walked, her lips pressing into a thin line of confidence. Her mind, however, was anything but calm. She was still having flashbacks to what Adrian has said. She scoffed. He has lost his mind… sending word to Blood Moon Fangs? Is he so eager to undo everything she and her husband built with their bare hands? She

I got home and just dashed towards her room in a hurry, I heard some weird sounds but just couldn't comprehend what they were. "Oh my god!! Charles knock, that's why there's a door" Crimson screamed while struggling to close her laptop. "Okay Crimson first of all I never really knock, secondly I barged in because you didn't pick any of my calls and lastly what the hell are you trying to hide on your laptop?". With that Crimson bounced off the bed and grabbed her laptop placing it behind her back, it was then I finally noticed what she was wearing. She wore a transparent black silky singlet that showed her two cups and hardened nipples, then had a matching lacy panties that looked obviously w

A woman wearing a dark somber dress with a pale face and a solemn expression as though she had just left a funeral. She was one of the few females among the men in suits. One more mystery. She was probably just aware that she was trapped in a generational photo album featuring a number of human-sized gargoyles but who was she and why did she look so completely miserable? I leaned back against my pillows and sighed in frustration. It was hopeless. I discovered less the more I dug. It was similar to using a sieve to scoop water. The Crimson Order was an omnipresent force that left no distinct imprint it was a ghost in the machine. Nevertheless I was aware. Something shady was going on in this