Ivy Asher Books Novels & Stories

we both found Izac straight away. "Izac!" Ashley hugged him and he smiled widely. "Hey Ashley, how are you? And oh! Hello Vi.. You look stunning.. and different.." He said and I shook his hand instead of hugging. Ashley chuckled and gestured to me to hug him. I looked at her weirdly and she pushed me. I hugged Izac. "Great party." I smiled and released the hug fast. "Thanks.. and enjoy." He gestured to us to get inside. We walked in and I saw a lot of guys looking at me with lust. I felt uncomfortable.

“This story is about two little girls. Both from different worlds, yet they were the same inside. The first girl—hmm, let’s call her Amy. Amy had lived in this town her entire life, surrounded by money and wealth. The second girl, who we’ll call Ashley, moved here from far, far away. These two girls saw something in one another and instantly became best friends. As much as Ashley liked this place and her new friend, she was missing something. She was missing her father. Her mother told her how her father was a bad man who needed to be kept away from Ashley. Ashley didn’t care, though. She knew her father had to be like her. Bad. Ashley’s mother had a daughter, you know. A pretty little girl

ASHER’S POV I am in my room still reminiscing on my moment with Ivy. I remain on the bed why y shirt off my chest still. I glare at it and s still can’t get he thought of Ivy Out from my kind. I feel a cringe as I remember her coldness forward me. She has me ever shifted or drifted away for me whenever I tried touching her but she did that today. Ty here was this weird tagaccompanined her as she came around. Her eyes were very unusual and her stance was too firm for the Ivy u knew. She always seemed like someone that could never hurt a fly but she foug ur me in battle and won.

The poison burned in my veins, but my fury burned hotter. "You should be dead," I gritted out, turning to face Chloe. Her face was a twisted mask, all its former innocence gone. A year on the run had made her feral and dangerous. "Dead?" she cackled, a sound of broken glass. "Oh, I've died a hundred times. But my hatred, my glorious hatred kept me warm. It burned away everything soft, everything weak. I was forged anew in its flames!"

Hope The light is blinding to my sensitive eyes as we emerge from the depths of the cellar. we are hurried along a wide hallway leading to huge wooden double doors. The sound of men shouting as the prisioners huddle together booms in my ears. Blinking to adust to the change of light i look around taking in my surroundings. We are standing in what looks to be a large cathedral. Its beautiful marbel floors lined with gold and giant floor to celling pillars covered in intricate patterens and vines. Lanters line the walls iluminating the large room. Ive never seen anything so beautiful. A large fireplace cut out into the wall burns the chill of winter away. At the end of the room steps climb to

A mass grave meant nothing left to bury—scavengers, bones scattered, flesh devoured. But Matthew wouldn't let it go. "Eli suffered so much—I have to find him," he insisted, tearful and relentless. So my father, against his better judgment, sent a group of servants to the reeking pit of corpses to search for my remains. I followed them, watching as they prodded through the mountain of rotting bodies with long iron hooks. The stench was so foul that several young servants doubled over and vomited. In the end, it was George who found my corpse. He remembered the coarse cloth I'd been wearing when they sold me off—and the tiny, clumsy ink orchid I'd embroidered on the hem with my own hands.

I said. "Indeed you are..." she yelled. "Get to work now!" She ordered. I moved over to the shelf close-by and started cleaning it. Nothing looked dirty to me in the chamber including the shelf I was cleaning, I just couldn't help but wonder if the prince was a god. "Don't mind her, she can be annoying atimes" a maiden whispered to me who was equally cleaning the shelf. I sighed "it is fine...." My eyes caught a picture sitting at the opposite side of the shelf.

An object, rather. In my imagination, it shone brightly among the other irrelevant stuff that was lined up on the shelves. Like it had a spotlight on it, an inviting view. You could guess right, I went straight for it. It looked ancient and had handwritten runes on it, giving hieroglyphics. Very intriguing. I picked this old ceramic vase from where it sat comfortably on the rack and descended from the ladder. The thought of finding the toolbox had been neatly swept to the back of my mind.

“How about CeeCee?” “My name is Ivy, Asher. Not CeeCee. Not Charity Case.” “Okay.” “And lastly,” I said, crossing my arms tighter, “other than in public when we have to sell it… no holding hands, no arms around my shoulders, no intimate gestures. Nothing.” Asher’s gaze lingered on me a little too long, dark and unreadable. Then that dangerous smirk returned. “Deal,” he said softly, moving towards me slowly. “But just so you know…”

Ivy's POV I don't answer him. I straighten up, let go of the railing, and put my hands back in my jacket pockets. "I'm tired," I say, "That's all it was." Caelum looks at me for a moment. He doesn't push. He just nods slowly. "Goodnight, Ivy," he says. I go inside but I don't sleep. *** Morning in Ashveil arrives without asking. I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling and catalogue everything I know.