John Rosemond Book Novels & Stories

As I put one of my feet inside of the warm and welcoming water filled with the petals of the beloved and most beautiful rose. I sometimes wonder why it has so much love being given to it. It is so imperfect, yet that is its perfection just like all of us--We are perfect and one because of the imperfections of us. I also wonder why a rose just steals my heart every time I look at it--it's just so magnificent. Is it because of the color that it possesses or because of the way it possesses the frail heart of mine? So melted in my thoughts that I was, I didn't realize that I had to get out of the bath to get ready.

“Come on, man. Rosa’s looking hot tonight. She keeps smiling at you, and you’ve only got eyes for your beer.” Rome looked over at Rosa. She was hot. Long, red hair, and legs that never ended. She was definitely someone he’d be interested in getting to know better--if it weren’t for that phone call earlier. All he could think about was Ella. He’d even looked around the club, wondering if any of these girls could be her. But none of them looked like the picture he had of her in his mind. Dark hair, wide eyes, a beautiful smile…. No, he had a feeling his Ella wasn’t here tonight. “You should at least get up and dance,” Bart said, nudging him with his shoulder. “I need a wingman.”

Because of what's happening now and what she's observing, Amethyst can't help. Amethyst sat on the edge of her bed, her thoughts racing. He still couldn't get out of his mind the many possibilities that could be true now. Moreover, he has doubts about Jonathan. For Amethyst, Jonathan wasn't what he seemed. It's like it's different from the information he knows about it. The more she observed him, the more it became clear that he wasn't just an ordinary pawn in the intricate chessboard of the mafia world. According to La Xiena's intelligence, Jonathan is just a chess piece. However, that wasn't what she saw right now.

"Why did you do this?" Lorraine was only taken aback for a second. Then, she started laughing derisively as she glowered at him. "Why couldn't I?" The letters fluttered to the floor, each one detailing their intimacy. She continued, "Don't forget that you were the one who came onto me first, Your Highness! I wasn't the one to seduce you—I already had a lover! You killed him; you made him die on that battlefield! I was going to end my life, yet you saved me and brought me back.

One that just needed a little push to put him in higher spirits. After we'd demolished the entire thing, Noir had talked softly about his time in Milan, about what he actually did for the Black Rose. He was their information specialist, the one who could hack into anything, find anyone, make people disappear from databases like they'd never existed and he was also the guy to torture information out of people and tie up loose ends whenever Lorenzo wanted the ends messy. I knew that much from what I'd witnessed. He spoke about it freely with me, and I listened without judgement. I seemed to have begun developing an immunity for illegal shit.

The end. Thank you for reading Rosie and Jude's story. I'm so emotional right now; I can't believe I finished this book.When I started writing this story, I didn't like it or have any pull to it—I was just writing it. Then when I reached chapter 20, I had to go back and rewrite some scenes, and that's when I started genuinely liking Rosie and Jude.I've one long ass of author note (the author note here has limited space) please do check discord or my F******k or I*******m @authorroyhanh

As his eyes caught sight of her, the expression on his face softened and he found himself staring. “U-um, hello. Are you my contact here?” Rojean asked, feeling a little conscious that the man was staring at her like that but she couldn’t really complain now. It was her work over the line. ‘I thought he’ll be a lot older.’ she thought to herself, shifting to her seat at how uncomfortable she was at the moment. He cleared his throat once he had gotten back to reality and sat up straight. “I guess, yes. I’m the president’s secretary.”

The girl leaned close, and the boy looked up at her, the corners of his eyes curving slightly. His gaze was full of her. He smiled and pointed to the flowerpot she had just placed nearby. Half teasing, he said, “Then Cecilia is a red rose. Delicate and thorny. Only I can afford to take care of you.” Cecilia turned and looked at the roses Lucas had placed in the room that morning. And tears streamed silently down her face.

I pulled one free and settled onto the rug in my small meditation corner. The familiar scent of old paper rose as I opened it. Our bloodline has always carried unusual gifts. The words were written in my mother’s careful script. Some subtle. Some dangerous. Some misunderstood. I traced the edge of the page lightly with my finger. “Sounds about right,” I murmured. Outside the small window the campus had grown quiet as evening settled over Rosewood. I read for another hour before finally closing the book. The whispers still echoed faintly in my mind. But they felt… farther away now.

It wasn't an old ploy; the forgery was recent, done brilliantly with careful precision as the Romanos who never missed an opportunity to attack the Knights, had found another weak link to exploit. Present --------- Rose was seated on the recliner with the gleam of the moon bathing her features through the window. She was drawing comforting patterns on the furry coat, as her little cupcake sluggishly occupied her lap. "Think whatever pleases you but I have no idea what you're talking about"