Inner Consecrated Snowfield Novels & Stories

He was unable to react but didn't push Joseph away as well. The snow started falling. The maroon-colored plum flowers looked even more beautiful with the falling of snow. Their little peck looked even more beautiful and meaningful. It looked as if everything was meant to be from the beginning. The field, full of different flowers and the snow falling on top, made it look like everything was a scene straight from a romance movie.

As rain started to fall, I belatedly remembered how the weather forecast said it would get colder later in the night, and maybe even start to snow. Once it starts snowing in Atlanta, it never seems to stop. I used to dread winter, but Lucas would always wrap me in his coat several sizes larger than I was, keeping a warm blanket available in his car just for me. Looking back now, those moments of so-called happiness were never meant to last. As the rain poured harder, strands of hair stuck damply to my forehead, and my steps wavered almost to the point of collapse. I shook my head and let out a bitter laugh. How did my life end up like this?

Her voice sounded so far away. “Ma'am? I need to get the box.” When I finally looked up, I saw that at least 15 people surrounded me. I slowly extended my arm to hand her the box. Someone took that as a sign and handed me a bottle of water. “ Snow?. Snow? You're pale. You should have some water. Snow?” The world spun and then everything went black. When I woke up I was in a hospital room with a nurse by my bed, taking vitals.

What happened instead was that I had to pawn my wedding ring for a sack of potatoes. What happened instead was that I ended up toiling in the fields, competing with other men, just for a little money. Even with that, my daughter and I might be able to survive. Unfortunately, we encountered a once-in-a-century snowstorm. My money were gone, so were the fields. We survived on tree bark and leaves, but even that ran out. Seeing my daughter, Tina, munching on her blanket, I reached out to the widower, Michael Worrey. I sold myself to him.

Lately, his unadulterated dirty talk caught my wolf completely off guard and made the tips of my ears burn with a deep flush. I cleared my throat roughly, forcing my eyes to focus on the black text of the document, but stopped after the first line. "A new expansion project near Snowfall City?" "Yes." "It must be gorgeous in that northern territory during the winter when the pack lands freeze over!" I had seen the white northern lights in old scrolls but had never visited the high northern peaks, only glimpsing them in maps featuring the central trading avenue and the iconic winter cathedral where the ancient alphas took their vows. Grant’s golden eyes softened to a molten glow, his clean-cut

Somebody alert whatever saint covers people who look at things they shouldn't, because it works, and I'd give quite a lot to un-see it. There's something under the snow. It's dark and in constant motion, like a wave. It doesn't have a shape I could draw. No front or back. The closest thing I've got is the whole field being skin and something huge turning over underneath it. I try to find where it ends, but it doesn’t seem to have one. It spreads under the treeline and doesn't stop there. My eyes keep sliding along it looking for an edge and there isn't one in sight.

I whispered, my breath blooming in a white cloud. Silas stepped out onto the snow beside me, his massive frame looking even more imposing against the backdrop of the white peaks. He wasn't wearing a parka; his Alpha heat was so intense it was actually melting the snowflakes before they could touch his skin. He reached out, his large, warm hand catching my waist to pull me flush against his side. The moment our lines connected, the freezing mountain air didn't matter. The gold and violet energy swirled together, creating a bubble of warmth that felt like home.

Lisa Jones had never expected how badly her long-distance relationship would go, when James Sachs loved her more than anyone else. As the chief of a hospital, he was a very busy man, but he had flown abroad countless times and clocking over 10,000 hours in travel for her. They could only meet briefly each time. She still remembered in that early winter, he had held her in the snow, saying that he found it all worth it. She received numerous gifts from him, ranging from thousand-word love letters to million-dollar necklaces bought from auctions. If it were just to make her smile, he would pluck the stars from the sky. That love that seeped into their very essence hadn't changed for thre

I wiped my tears away and straightened my back, forcing myself to look composed. “So, I’ll leave you in the past, too.” Then, I turned and walked away. As I passed the largest painting in the gallery, I paused. Its title was ‘Rebirth.’ In the painting, a girl ran freely under the sunlight, her back turned to the viewer, and the girl was Jane. However, in the lower right corner, almost hidden, was a small cluster of white flowers. They were lilies. Ethan once told me I was the only flower in his barren life. Now, those flowers had become nothing more than roadside decoration—something to be trampled without a second thought.

It snowed all day, high, drifting squalls that spun mirages against the burnt stumps and corrugated trunks. Fog descended in the valleys, a sourceless blanket that made even the mossy ruins look secretive and strange. Elena’s world narrowed to the next step, the next patch of ice, the rhythm of her boots and the gnarl of her hips as she adjusted to her compressing center of gravity. The men flanked her, but never too close—they’d stopped hovering as her insistence and exhaustion became indistinguishable.