Laced Roses Novels & Stories

"That's Mr. Harrison's godsister. I heard their relationship is… complicated." "Where's the bride? Why hasn't she shown up yet?" I was in the lounge. Instead of wearing my wedding dress, I donned a black business suit. A gold auditor's badge was pinned to my chest. In my hand was the laptop that held every piece of evidence. A knock sounded on the door. It was Captain Lloyd from the financial crimes unit. He was in plain clothes, with several officers behind him, dressed as plainly as he was. "Ms. Caldwell, are we good to go?"

I smiled. Rose had mud covering her clothes, with splashes of water on her top as well. "You should change your clothes, otherwise you will catch a cold." She nodded with a sheepish smile, "I went to collect water from the river but slipped over the rock and fell." I paused but continued stirring again...the river. "Can you add the final petals and stir this? I have some work to do." Rose looked at me in shock and to my surprise, she shook her head in a no immediately, "I can't do that, you shall always complete your work other..."

The Dance Year of the Roses Floral Season Lysia's bedroom Altsas Lyza IT'S MIDNIGHT. I can already hear the hum of the happy crowd from the hall many floors beneath my bedroom. Rosa has managed to coax me into an ecru gown made out of satin. The hems are blood red and Rosa has fastened a matching blood red veil to my hair. "What's the point?"'I moan. Rosa gives me a puzzled look. "What's the point of the kohl to line my eyes and the henna on my skin?"

“Is this yours?" The immediate answer came out her mouth when she saw it, "No, why—" She froze, and Chris looked at her, the concern brewing in his eyes. But she couldn’t help but to stare at the gift, knowing exactly what it was. A Resin Rose, wrapped with thorns of grief; exactly like the picture. The moon so delicate, handmade and one of a kind. "Claec…" Her hand cupped the gift, pulling it away from him. Chris stared at her in confusion, his hands feeling empty, "who's that?"

She was certain it was a beautiful bond that she had secured for her daughter, more like a fusion as she reminisced on that one cold evening that found Vincent and Vanessa sitting on the floor by the fireplace. The air was heavy with the scent of pine and dead leaves, and he held a deck of cards in his hands, shuffling them with a speed and dexterity that made the cards a blur to even she who watched them. Then he laid them out, gently revealing the silent blend of red and black he had spun. "Watch closely," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "I will show you something we used to call la main est plus rapide que l'œil."

~Sienna~ I stepped out of the car, clutching the bouquet of crimson roses and white lilies Lucas had given me. The soft fragrance of the flowers wrapped around me, their delicate scent mixing with the crisp evening air. The roses were velvety to the touch, their deep red petals glowing softly under the porch light. My forehead still burned from the way Lucas kissed me goodbye—his lips lingering longer than they should, as if reluctant to part. My heart was thudding so loudly I could barely hear myself think, the rhythm pulsing in my ears like a drumbeat.

Rosa added, her words laced with a hint of mystery and intrigue. "I should?" Linc playfully teased, a smile tugging at his lips. "I'll put on a strip show for you," Rosa teased back, her eyes gleaming mischievously. Linc's voice lowered, a suggestive smirk forming on his face. "Doesn't sound inviting enough." "Really?" She arched an eyebrow, revealing a hint of temptation as she spread her legs, silently inviting him to look at her core, which glistened with her own release.

Such an inspiration, she is. I quickly showered and wore a simple dress to start the day. . . . "My legs are killing me. Remind me never to go shopping with you, Ann", I groaned, as we entered the cafe BlossomBee. It was a homely place with a bunch of dandelions on each table. A delicious scent of coffee and muffins lingered in the air instantly making me relaxed. We ordered cinnamon rolls, pancakes, and blueberry muffins for brunch. The ambiance helped me become more cheery from a semi-querulous phase.

Elara slowly reached inside the dark paper. She pulled out a single, heavily bruised white lily stem. The flower head had been violently crushed, its white petals torn and smeared with dark red residue. As she lifted the broken stem into the air, a sharp, intoxicating scent wafted through the room. It was not the scent of fresh flowers. It was a thick, heavy, unmistakable fragrance of French amber, crushed orchids, and rare musk—the exact, custom-blended Rouge Vane perfume that Lydia had worn every single day of her adult life.

“If it follows you down the aisle, squeeze your bouquet twice. That’s the signal. I’ll handle whatever ‘it’ is.” Evandra’s mouth curved. “You can handle everything?” “That’s what Betas are for.” A faint glimmer of humor. Liora set the last pin, then reached into her pocket and produced a tiny sachet bound in white thread. “Ward. Rosemary, rue, yarrow. The healers swear by it for ‘lingering glances from the unseen.’” She made air quotes with one hand—ridiculous and endearing. “Tuck it in your bodice. If it’s nonsense, at least it smells like a garden.”