Red Heart Irresistible Yarn Novels & Stories

"What we need. Specifically. Particularly. Non-replicably." Cyrus held them, the terror that was subsiding, the presence that was replacing it, the love that was not conditional on survival but was absolutely, desperately, specifically invested in it. He felt Arthie's heart rate through the racing suit, the residual elevation that was normal, appropriate, the rhythm that was regular, the life that was continuing. "Your rate," he murmured, the doctor that was always present. "At Eau Rouge. One-sixty-five. Above threshold."

Randall intervened. Shanaia rolled her eyes. “My goodness, Randall, you’re not romantic at all!” “And what happened next?” Meredith asked. “I read something about red thread before and the Japanese people believe that soulmates will have a red thread tied around their little finger to symbolize the blood vessel from their hearts. Tying to the person you are destined to be with for life,” Marylex said out of nowhere then turned to Randall. “Do you understand now the meaning of the red thread?”

Her face flushed and she looked pale. "I am sorry, but I can't," James replied with a deep sexy voice. How could she ask him to wear something when she was so close? He thought in his mind. "Then, I will leave," Catherine said and headed to the door, however, James' hands gripped her and pulled her back to his well-toned chest. Catherine hit her breast on his bare chest, goosebumps filled her entire body. Her heart was palpitating as she felt intense hotness under her thighs.

“Hello, I’m back! Do you have any bouquets in red and purple, or can I have one made up. I found out that that is my babe’s favorite color combo, especially if there are red roses.” The girl behind the counter looks at me “Nice combination! We don’t get a lot of call for it, but I can put something together. I have Black Baccara roses, they are a deep, velvet red, I can mix them with some brighter red carnations and poppies that have red petals and a deep purple center and purple lattice, oh! I just got in a few other things that may work…I can do this.” She smiles as she starts turning to the back, then shoots over her shoulder “Good to see you back and to know that your girl’s mother didn’

"What do you mean, nope?" "You don't need more black. You look like you're trying to vanish." He let go only to pluck a bright crimson dress off a hanger. "Try this." "Red?" I stared at it. "Yeah. Vibrant. Alive. The opposite of whatever storm you've got swirling in your head." His gaze softened just slightly. "You need it." I wanted to argue, to tell him I didn't belong in color, not when my insides felt bruised and dark. But something about the way he looked at me made the words stick in my throat.

“What colour do you want, Lois?” “Needles?” I looked at him and winced. “Not feeling too fussy on that score.” Needles had never been one of my most favourite things. “No,” he laughed. “For the lacing of your corset. Black or red usually work well, but you can have any colour of the rainbow.” Thinking long and hard, I finally said, “Pink.” I wondered if he might look a little effeminate and a whole lot less scary when handling pink ribbon.

ALICE Different colors of strings came out from the red book, swirling, tangling, forming a loop around me. As if it wants to tie me around its knotted threads. “What is this?” Black white and red burst out like fireworks. I’ve never seen strings this much without people. Thrice when I was in crowds, I saw many. But most are black. None are white. Some have red. In their pinky, in their hearts. Black strings ruled over hearts. Humans are full of hatred. They can lie straight in their faces, in their smiles, but they can never lie through the string.

I silently listened to him, only a smile that crept upon my face. “It was no surprise you caught my eye. Red, you were dressed in, after all, has always been my favourite colour. It is the colour of my aura, radiating warmth and passion and unceasing energy. My undying flame, burning fierce and ferocious. I too was wearing my lucky maroon shirt.”

I want something that screams at personality change, while still giving a hot and seductive look. “Crimson red.” I say. “Wonderful choice Mrs. Andrea.”

Her forehead creased with worry lines. “Ah, you heard that.” My voice sounded weak and pathetic. I dropped my gaze, not having enough confidence to maintain eye contact. “It’s Ruby, isn’t it?” She remembered, flashing an empathic smile that relaxed me. “Did you want to go with the black dress,” she asked, wincing her eyes. “I saw the way you were looking at the red one.” I brightened at that. “That one is gorgeous. Is it available?” “It sure is,” she replied, making my day. “Go into the fitting room and I’ll bring it through.”