Pennyroyal Tea Lyrics Novels & Stories

Before I married Gavin Whitaker, his mother put me through a so-called premarital obedience test. She made me kneel and serve tea to the entire family, so I knelt. She made me walk barefoot across a reflexology path to prove my "resilience". I went through it. She made me sign a prenuptial agreement stating that if we ever divorced, I would leave with nothing. I signed. Throughout it all, Gavin watched coldly from the sidelines. All he said was, "Sienna, don’t make a big deal out of this. Just bear with it. These are our family’s rules." I smiled and nodded, even as tears slid down my face. The final test came without warning. His mother slapped me hard across the face. "If you marry into this family, you need to understand what humility means." I didn’t move. However, upstairs in the study, where Gavin was in the middle of a video conference, he suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood and collapsed. He clutched his face and stared at me in terror. [System Notification: You and Gavin Whitaker have successfully bound to the Empathy Sync System. From this moment on, all harm inflicted upon the host will be experienced in full by the other party.]

The night before our 17th wedding attempt, my mafia husband, Rafaeal Holloway, looks at me and promises an uninterrupted wedding. He solemnly swears. "Gianna, I promise you. I told Natalia that even if the sky falls, she'll deal with it alone." I am five months pregnant by then. After three years of dating and five months carrying his child, we've never managed to make it down the aisle because he's canceled the past 16 weddings. Every single time, it's for his sworn sister, Natalia Sullivan. The first time, she claims she has a fever. I spend the whole night at the hospital, still in my wedding dress, just to find out she has a mild cold. The second time, she claims her chest hurts. Rafael abandons me mid-wedding and rushes to her side, while she's out laughing over afternoon tea with friends. The third time, she cries for fear of thunder. He bolts mid-vows and leaves me alone in a hall full of staring guests. But everything's different now. Three days ago, a letter arrived from Northern Silenzio. My father, the Don of the Rossetti family, has finally summoned me home. If Rafael walks away for Natalia one more time, I'll leave for good.

Millie Caldwell fails to win Winston Greer's heart despite them being married for three years. They get married after a misunderstanding, and Millie goes back to being the princess of the Caldwell family.Her father asks, "When are you going to inherit my billions, sweetheart?"Her mother beams. "Be a designer like me! You're bound to become famous with me backing you up!"Her grandmother says sternly, "Mills has to take up medicine. Think about her prowess in the medical field—it'd be a waste not to use her skills!"Millie asks her grandfather, "What do you think, Grandpa?"He looks pleased. "How about we drink some tea and plant some flowers? You can enjoy your retirement before you're due for it."Millie thinks this is the best her life can get… until Winston latches onto her and refuses to let go."I regret everything, Mills." He holds her tightly after getting drunk. His eyes are red, and he chokes up as he says, "Can you call me your husband just one more time?"Millie smiles. "Have some shame, jerkface."Jerkface says, "Being shamed means nothing compared to having you as my wife."

Three years of marriage, and it all ends with two words. Sign it. He didn’t even look up when he said it. Just slid the papers across the table like I was another business deal to close. We weren’t supposed to fall in love it started as a contract, something practical, something safe. But feelings have a way of growing where they shouldn’t. For a while, I thought he cared. The quiet moments, the small things he remembered my favorite song, how I take my tea, the way I hate the rain. I thought they meant something. Turns out, they did. Just not for me. Every gesture, every soft word, was borrowed from a memory. From her. The woman who had him first. The one who left. The one who’s now back. So I signed. I smiled. I walked away. Not because I wanted to but because I had to. He doesn’t chase me. Not yet. But I can feel it the weight of everything unsaid still hanging in the air between us. Maybe he’ll realize what he’s lost. Maybe he won’t. Either way, this time, I’m not waiting around to find out.

At the court, my daughter, Hannah Wright, accuses me of being a sexist tormentor with violent tendencies. With tears running down her cheeks, she slowly takes off her clothes, revealing her wounds to everyone present. "She's a monster! She buys mangoes for my younger brother, Rodney, and yet she makes me kneel on the floor while munching on the peels! "Then, she beats me up in public and even strips me naked before forcing me to kneel and apologize! On top of that, she doesn't feed me at all!" Everyone gasps in shock before glaring at me angrily. They are all waiting for me to get sentenced to hell and back. But what Hannah refuses to bring up is that I can't let her eat any mangoes due to her severe allergy. If she were to have any, she'd go into shock immediately. I beat her up because she had the audacity to switch out the tea leaves to sheep droppings just to pull a prank on an elderly family member during her funeral. Naturally, I punished her because she actually mixed weed killer into Rodney's milk and tried to feed him with it! At the end of the day, Hannah remembers the pain she's been through, yet she completely forgets about the atrocious misdeeds that she herself has committed!

Yselle Morel is watching her family's glassworks collapse—unpaid wages, angry suppliers, a bank ready to shut the gates. When Renaud Valois, a feared billionaire financier, offers a rescue, it comes with a cruel condition: marriage. He says it’s business. His eyes say it’s revenge. In Valois’s riverside estate outside Paris, Yselle plays the obedient wife—smiling, thanking staff, acting harmless. She calls it "wife camouflage." Then she finds a locked room behind the library wall: a war room filled with files, photos, and timelines about her father’s life… and a folder stamped with Yselle’s name. Renaud didn’t choose her. He planned her. As “accidents” start closing in—tampered brakes, poisoned tea, a near fall on a dark stairwell—Yselle realizes the marriage isn’t only punishment. It’s protection. Someone wants her silent before the Day 30 board vote that will decide her family’s future. And the closer she gets to the truth, the more she fears the man who raised her. On the eve of the vote, Yselle opens the last drawer in the war room and finds an envelope addressed to her—in her mother’s handwriting. The ink looks fresh. Then the lights go out, and a voice behind her whispers, “Don’t trust your husband.”

⚠️WARNING⚠️ Have extra pairs of underwear and get ready to clutch your thighs, this book contains mature themes and explicit sexual content intended for viewers rated 18+. Further triggers are listed below: Violence Toxic Family Cheating BDSM Emotional manipulation Abandonment issues Kidnapping. Reader-discretion-advised , if this is your cup of tea get ready to get wet. ( I’m referring to your eyes.) Four years of lies against one night that changed everything. Sienna Blake hoped her boyfriend of four years would propose to her, but instead she catches him in bed with her cousin. Humiliated and betrayed, she gave him a chance to make it right… only to discover his true colors.Alone and vulnerable in New York, she’s caught by a charming stranger in her most intimate moment. What begins as embarrassment explodes into a night of reckless desire, heat, and forbidden pleasure,one she’ll never forget.She bids farewell hoping to meet or hear from him again, but she is met with nothing but silence. Feeling stupid , she does what she knows best and gets a slap in the face with reality. Some mistakes don’t stay in the past, they follow you around, taunt you, and claim you in ways you never imagined.Embark on this journey to uncover deep and dark secrets. Can you keep a secret ?

Zoey is hardly what you’d consider princess material. Born in flyover country, she never learned how to curtsy, let alone walk in high heels. And when she literally trips into the arms of a handsome stranger at her friend’s wedding, she thinks she’s finally found love. Freddie Prescott is a charming prankster. Despite his carefree attitude, he pursues Zoey with an intensity that shows he can be serious when he needs to be. And with those rock hard abs and rippling biceps, his pursuit of Zoey is a satisfying one. Without realizing it, Zoey finds herself falling in love. There’s only one problem: Freddie is a prince. Spending a week without Internet access or phone reception has left Zoey in a weird predicament. He certainly left enough hints that he was rich and famous, but he never outright said it. And when the time comes for him to leave their vacation getaway, he asks her to come with him to the kingdom of Paradisa. But Zoey can’t use the right fork, put her pinkie up for tea, or any of the things expected of a princess. Plus, there are those in the kingdom who don’t want an American close to the throne. How can she hope to keep Freddie’s love if she’s a stranger to his royal world? NYT Bestseller Krista Lakes brings you this brand new sweet-and-sexy royal romance. This standalone novel will have you cheering for an American princess’s happily ever after.

"I died with the taste of jasmine and betrayal on my tongue. I woke up with a debt to a monster." Elara Vance was the perfect noble daughter—quiet, dutiful, and blind. She gave her heart to the charming Lord Caspian de Montfort and her trust to her "saintly" step-sister, Lyra. Her reward? A slow-acting poison in her tea and the sight of her husband prying the family signet ring from her cold, paralyzed finger. But death is not the end for those with a soul full of rage. In the misty aisles of the Shop of Lost Regrets, Elara meets the Archivist—a terrifying entity who offers her a second chance. The price? She must return to her sixteen-year-old self and complete a series of increasingly dangerous tasks. If she succeeds, she gets her revenge. If she fails, her heart stops forever. To survive her murderous family, Elara must secure the protection of the only man they fear: Kaelen Thorne, the "Monstrous Duke" of the North. She proposes a marriage of convenience—a cold, blood-bound contract built on secrets and strategy. As Elara and Kaelen journey to the frozen border, they enter a deadly game of cat and mouse. Between the Duke’s ancient curse, Caspian’s obsessive pursuit, and the Archivist’s mysterious demands, Elara must navigate a world where love is a weakness and information is the only currency. In this life, Elara is no longer a pawn. She is the player. And she will burn the kingdom to the ground to ensure her enemies never taste jasmine again.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*