Marigold Stories Novels & Stories

“We are here to discuss the disturbing reports of my future daughter in law’s abduction.” Abduction. Kidnapping. Assassins. Great. Nothing like a little light breakfast topic. Before anyone could speak, Marigold slapped her hand against her forehead so hard I thought the tiara might fall. “Oh, Your Majesty, must we dwell on such horrid memories?” She sniffled—sniffled. “I was so close to death. If not for Alpha Gregor’s bravery—” she fluttered her hand toward me, “—I would not be here today to burden you with my tragic, fragile existence.”

Little did I know, the spark was about to become a raging inferno, courtesy of something far beyond the mortal realm. It started on a rainy Friday night. I’d come home exhausted from a long week, my blouse clinging to my skin from the downpour outside. I kicked off my heels, letting them thud against the hardwood floor, and poured myself a glass of merlot. The apartment felt emptier than usual; my last girlfriend had left months ago, citing my “workaholic tendencies” as the reason. Truth be told, I missed the warmth of a body next to mine, the soft curves and whispered promises in the dark. To distract myself, I rummaged through the old box of junk in my closet— relics from my rebellious pha

[Erick, when you read this, I won't be part of this world anymore. Forgive me for reaching out one last time like this. Ever since you left, I've been haunted by thoughts of what could have been. If only I had valued you more, would we be married now? With a sweet little kid? However, life doesn't deal in 'what ifs'. I wrecked the love you had for me, and I wrecked my life. I tried to start fresh. I opened a flower shop, determined to make it on my own, but it was overwhelming.

"Ms. Quinn must be a lucky charm. She visited Mr. Stone once, and he woke up right after!" "Exactly. Looks like Mr. Stone and Ms. Quinn were meant to be," another staff member said. Nathan's parents were all smiles too, clearly overjoyed. Mary even took off her emerald bracelet and slipped it onto my wrist. She said it was a family heirloom, something the Stone family passed down to their daughters-in-law.

Story Note: “Room for One More” is a standalone short from my erotic collectiona mix of intense, sensual, and sometimes forbidden stories that explore the raw edges of desire. Each story introduces new characters, new fantasies, and unapologetically explicit encounters. This particular tale features a taboo dynamic between step-siblings, told with heat, dominance, and no holding back. Reader discretion is advised. *************************************************

Arin immediately moved straight into her arms and started playing with her hair. It's like this one wants to be hair dresser. Now it's my turn to tease... "Ah Laila don't worry, wedding nor far again, in nine months time we'll come visiting" I said the last part in a sing song manner (Listen to Ada by Flavour). If she was white she would definitely been as red as a tomato. Thank God for melanin ooo

she says exasperatedly, making me laugh. As a human, Marigold was squeamish at the sight of blood. She said she passed out at the sight of it every single time. When she was turned, it took years before she stopped putting her blood in dark-colored cups with straws so she didn't have to look at it.

A private meeting reserved for special people only… “Everything is going on as planned,” Devin informed his three accomplices rubbing his hands gleefully. “I’ve received another mail from the two lovebirds and they still not willing to get back!” Nash smiled indulgently. “Let them enjoy. They’ve well deserved the holidays after the ordeal you have put them through.” Devin chuckled wickedly. “You’re right. Nash, I think we’d better start planning a second marriage. What do you think of Kyra Hart, Rachel’s best friend?”

Lucia explained. "What does the white lady have to do with the life of Rizal?" I asked because it did not make sense with her subject. "Because Ma'am Felecito tells stories all the time, even when they have nothing to do with the topic," Grace explained. Lucia nodded and was about to speak when someone called my name. So I turned to my left. What was the reason for Aldridge's visit? "Who's that, Ren?" Grace asked me in a whisper.

My cheeks burned with barely contained anger. “But for real, it’s being wasted on Scheur,” Margo said. She never hid her past relationships with werewolves. “If it was me, I wouldn’t just try to date him — I’d use him to better my life. He’s rich. Raise your power while you can.” “Nah, you’re telling the wrong person,” someone else said. “Scheur is too much of a goody-two-shoes to do anything.” More giggles. I stood up, took my tray, and walked away without answering.