Gothic Table Runner Novels & Stories

Nobody went smaller in gambling. So she pulled out her car key and slammed it on the table. “A Porsche Panamera. I just bought it, and it cost over a million. So let’s call it one million flat. You in?” I stared at the keys, eyes glinting, and Taylor smirked knowingly. She covered the keys with her hand. “I’m putting up a million dollars. You’ll have to put up something equal in value.” “Earlier, I won half a million grand, and with my house deed added in, that’s about a million. I’m not taking advantage of you.”

At least she was starting to learn. The rest of the meeting was spent turning her soft, romantic vision into something that actually mattered, gothic luxury. I wanted the ballroom to look like sin itself had dressed up for the night. Heavy drapes, dark florals, and gold cutlery. The kind of beauty that makes people uncomfortable, makes them whisper but keeps them staring. Let them all suffer while pretending to enjoy the night.

They had created an archway, which was also covered in silk and lace. There were runners along the floor where Hope would make her way to the archway and to me. The tables were all lined with laced table cloths and had huge vases of white red and pink roses paired with baby's breath in the centers. The backs of the chairs were also covered in light green silk. "What do you think?" I asked her. "Wyatt , it is breathtaking. More than I could have ever imagined." "It is all for you, my little mate."

Decorating it was. I had to admit, she did a great job. The bunting, as she called it, cascaded like shimmering silver curtains over the doorway, tied back with ribbons of navy blue and black in keeping with the whole Goth theme. The black balloons she'd allowed me to blow up and place floated overhead like a cloud of doom. Blood would love it. Alison set out black and silver napkins while I tried to help and only got in the way. We'd totally taken over the library, though with a large table now in the middle ready to receive finger foods and drinks, it seemed more like a dining room.

I turn on my heel and stalk to their dining room. “What are you doing?” Amelia calls after me, a little panic in her voice. I can hear Victor following me behind, his footsteps measured and curious. In the room, I wrap my hands in two fists worth of fine linen-and-lace tablecloth, an heirloom, I know – a gift from Amelia’s grandmother. As hard as I can, I yank it, sending crystal candlesticks cascading to the ground as the fabric yields and slides off the table.

I announce while doing my best to ignore the pull of our bond and the influence it has over my senses. “You’re quite keen on that, aren’t you?” he says dryly. We enter a very gothic-looking parlour with an eerie yet seductive atmosphere. The three sectioned windows look out towards the overcast side of the forest, filling the room with minimal light. Grand candelabras against the walls between the windows suddenly become a light, providing the room with a reddish glow. The walls and curtains are black as night, the floorboards are a warm brown and the rug features a disturbing design that looks more like it was once evidence at a crime scene. A classically designed sofa and two matching armc

The castle was buzzing with excitement. My mother had somehow managed to turn our large home into the most lovely wedding venue in two days time. Tables were set in the dining hall with the most beautiful gold China and crystals lined every vase, stairwell table and light fixture. White and red roses was expertly placed on every chair, hallway and arch wile the tapestry and table cloths matched in patterns of crimson red and bright white. The alter was a combination of crystals, roses and silk fabric bringing a sense of romance to the room.

beautiful. There are petals leading away from the table and my gaze follows them to Rune, beyond the table. As I draw nearer, my heart begins to race in anticipation. There he stands, his tall figure outlined by the serene pool that lies just ahead. His presence is one that commands attention, but there is a vulnerability to it tonight that makes my heart race harder. His gaze is fixed on the mirror-like surface of the water, as though he is searching for answers in its depth. He is in head to toe black, threaded in gold. He looks like a part of the night, dark and alluring. As I approach him, the crunch of gravel beneath my feet breaks the silence, and he turns to face me.

Apart from a magnificent dinner service and crystal glassware, the table appointments consisted of long narrow gilded planter boXes crammed with real live pansies and violets. The cutlery handles were ebony inlaid with gold. The cloths and napkins were linen and the same soft apricot of the walls. The water pitchers were encased in delicate gold filigree. It was a work of art, Alex concluded, and when you added the lemon and orange trees in terracotta tubs dotted about and the view beyond, it was a magic setting. In fact it was Nicky who summed it all up in one word. ‘Wow!’ he said, and Nemo added his approval.

The pendant around her neck throbbed rhythmically with each step, as though it were alive, sensing the brewing storm of energy surrounding them. They stepped into the central chamber, passing through an ethereal veil of silver mist that coiled like smoke, revealing the expansive space within. A long crescent table dominated the room, flanked by high-backed chairs meticulously carved from bone and ancient stone, each one a work of art infused with history and power. Thirteen seats graced the table, yet only nine were filled, each occupant a figure carved from darkness and intrigue.