Novel & Cerita Flowers In The Attic Book Series

There is one tiny window from the opposite side of the room, showing just enough light to lead the way. Not much has changed since I was here last; The same cobwebs are covering all the old toys, one black spider in the corner is staring at me, a wooden rocking horse and chair in the far left corner, a few shelves with some strange glasses filled with liquid, and tons of opened boxes. The attic was always my treasure chest. I loved looking around, but there was no time today. Right now, I just need to find the book. I knew I carefully tucked it behind the liquid glass jars because I was the one that put it there.

Scarlett’s heart began to race; something about the book drew her in, as if it held secrets waiting to be discovered. Scarlett went down the attic stairs with her heart pounding, clutching the old book in her hands. Her mind was full of questions she couldn’t ignore, and the only person who might have answers was her aunt. She found her in the kitchen, preparing dinner, and asked in a trembling voice: “Aunt… I found this in the attic,” she said, holding the book out to her. Her aunt stared at the book for a moment, as if remembering something long forgotten. Finally, she sighed and smiled sadly.

“Yeah.” There was a pause. Then, gently, she said, “They’re in the attic.” The word hit me like an insult. I stared at her. “The attic?” She nodded. The attic was where unused furniture gathered dust. Where broken objects were shoved out of sight. Where a pack hid things it no longer valued but hadn’t yet discarded. So that was what I had become to Victor?. I forced a tight smile at Rose. “Thank you.” The words tasted brittle. I turned and climbed the narrow staircase to the attic.

We break apart and I’m about to turn towards Cassian when I catch a glimpse of his expression in the glass lamp base that sits on a small table beside us. An expression so cold and contemptuous that it sends a shiver of unease down my spine… A/N: Hi everyone, I see some people asking about Atticus, he will get a novella after this book is completed, it will be short but I'm sure you will all love it. Whether this will be right after this book ends or after a while it will still be attached to this book. To see Zade and Valerie's clothes for the Charity Ball check out my socials at author.muse. It's also good to follow me to learn when paperbacks will be released and to have a look at my othe

She closed the door behind her slowly. The apartment was still. Not quiet — still. Air too heavy. The smell of something floral. Faint. Sweet. Wrong. Her eyes drifted to the bookshelf. The flower was back. No — flowers, plural. Five of them now. Each bloom a different color. Crimson. Violet. Cerulean. Pale gold. Ink black. All curling from different books, petals growing like they’d always belonged there. Sea Glass Psalms. The Edge of Dusk. Forgotten Bodies. Every book Aria had buried a piece of herself in — every one of them blooming with impossible color. A spectrum of memories. Of lovers.

“Follow me, miss.” We stepped into a fancy elevator right inside the house. It moved up smoothly and quietly. She pressed the button for the last floor and counted sixteen levels. When the doors opened, we stepped into a cute little attic room. It was small but charming. A single bed sat in the middle with clean sheets. The roof had glass panels that opened up to the sky. Stars filled the dark night even with light snow falling softly. I loved it right away. It felt peaceful and far away from everything bad.

Alpha Matthew suggested with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, absolutely! The attic sounds enchanting," Charlotte exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement. We made our way up to the attic, carrying several boxes of fermented roses. The atmosphere up in the attic was chilly and slightly stuffy, as it was rarely used. "Quite a lot of spiders," Jamien complained. "Spiders are no worse than sneaky rats who feast on other people's money," I murmured. "Those rascally rats should be strung up and turned into meatballs for the devils," Charlotte responded.

(Violet's POV) The gardens had quickly become a place of refuge for me from the glaring cold of the mansion. Since it was made clear I'm not allowed to leave without prior permission, the beauty of the many colorful flowers eased my anxiety. “Slightly,” I smugly think as Leo's face pops into my head. Thanks to him, I now have my mother's journal, which I keep safely tucked under my mattress to avoid the prying eyes of a certain aunt. “Vee!” I hear her call from behind. Aunt Bella is almost incapable of speaking to me without raising her voice. It's as if the sight of me infuriates her for some reason, not that becoming close is a major concern of mine.