Henna Artist Book Novels & Stories

"Get lost before someone sees you." He ignored me, his fingers grazing over the dip of my waist, while his eyes were on my mehendi. He smirked, his fingers grazing my henna-stained wrist, sending shivers down my spine. "And let some other guy get a glimpse of my name on your skin? No chance." " What other guy??" " That Heena artist!! He has been holding your hand for too long." Really?? I flushed. "You’re impossible. It is his profession. He was just doing his work."

The day had been long, and Elena Hart felt every minute of it weighing down on her as she stepped into the grand hall of the Stone Art Gallery. The invitation to the exclusive art gala had arrived unexpectedly, a sleek black envelope that stood out starkly among her usual mail. The name embossed on the front had piqued her curiosity—Evan Stone, a name whispered in art circles with both reverence and caution. He was an elusive figure, a powerful collector known for his vast wealth and discerning taste, as well as the shadows that seemed to follow him wherever he went.

She called a henna artist and ask her to design their hands while she is at it. Soon after, Bushra's hands and legs are decorated with both black and red henna like a bride. Though her gown is uncomfortable, she didn't find it hard to sit down and give her hand forward for her to design. She likes every bit of those little designs that decorated her hand. She told the lady to write Mika'il's name where he won't be able to find it, she was fast to complied. She likes that Zara's attention wasn't on her so she won't be too jealous of the matter.

All the ladies went off and asked the artists to apply Heena on their hands. The mehandi was being applied on my hands feet. All my friends Noopur and Prachi were here with me. It was a very beautiful and intricate design. The Mehandi designer asked the name of the groom and I blushed. Noopur told her but then all the girls started teasing me that I was not even taking his name now... The artist wrote his name very artistically, it was hidden well yet it could be read easily. " Hmmm don't let him even touch you till he finds his name in your hands. " Sandhya teased.

Story 4 Title: Artist’s Muse Blurb: Lena, an art student, agrees to model for enigmatic painter DamienCross, known for his sensual, provocative work. As she disrobes, Damien instructs her in how to pose, breathe, and expose hervulnerabilities, not just her body. Each session becomes more intense,as their connection deepens into obsession. The canvas isn’t the only place Damien explores her, soon, their bodies and emotions become intertwined in a passionate, reckless affair.

"Wait, Jonea! Do you want this book?" She stopped and turned towards me. "No! Just take it if you want it. I can find another book." I know she's lying. Her gaze said she really wanted this book. And I see this book only one. There are no other copies on the shelves. I took two steps closer to Jonea, but she stepped back from me. "A book about ancient runes and magic?" I frowned when I read the title of the book. "Are you studying magic?" "No!" Jonea answered quickly. "I just wanted to look at the symbols and runes in the book for reference in making art. Is that a problem?"

She looked at Nicholas and asked in a coy tone, “Can I get it on the other hand?” Nicholas chuckled. “Of course, you can.” “Madam, if you want something that lasts longer, you can get a real Henna design, ”The woman told her with a strong accent. “This one will wash away once you put your hand in water.” “Umm, then please do it,” Roseanne said. She sat on the stool while the other woman put design on her other plam. After a few minutes, she was done. She smelled her hand, and it was divine.

As much as I appreciate the Alphas’ family for accommodating me, I can't help but feel strange that Carter will be joining us today. Within a twinkle of an eye, I’m done bathing, I can see the brown flowery short-sleeved dress that Henna placed on the side of the bed for me. Another unique thing about Henna is that she has a unique knack for knowing what to pick. Even after telling her countless times not to pick my clothes, she still ends up selecting the best. I slip into the clothes and look in the mirror. I can’t help but notice that it perfectly brings out my perfect curves; fighting the urge to leave my hair, I finally make it a bun, adding the sandals to match my outfit…

She pulled it out, sneezed once as dust motes tickled her nostrils, and lowered the book on the coffee table. The title was written in cursive gold letters, 'The Art Of The Body'. Clearly out of curiosity, she opened to the middle of the book, and her eyes nearly popped out in pure mortification. The book contained explicit diagrams of men and women in different, erotic, sexual poses.

Isla bit her lip and stretched her hand forward for the artist to paint. The henna ritual took several hours, and when it was done, a photographer took beautiful pictures of everyone. A few miles away; It was early evening in Singapore at Blue Flame Stone. The work ethic had settled down a little, which gave Damien time to sit in his office and scroll through his phone. There was a knock on the door, and Amanda stepped in. Damien carefully turned his phone upside down and sat straighter, focusing his attention on her. “These are everything I worked on today. I revised them more than three times. If there’s anything else you want me to do, I can—”