Rogue Florist Novels & Stories

I looked out of the curtains and saw a styrofoam package sitting on the porch. "Blood arrived," I grinned and opened the door to drag it inside. I could see Flora getting out of a cab. "Let me get that miss," she yelled across the distance and I rolled my eyes as Rogue came out and lifted it up. Flora's eyes bugged and her mouth hung open. "Insects will fly in there dear and yes the man is a hunk," I yelled at her. She shook her head and headed towards me. When she got to my side she was frowning.

Albert Crousse and La France fluttered in the silent wind , Chelsea loved these two especially La France with its exquisite charming look , that pink splattered with crimson was simply beautiful and their mild fragrance was enchanting . But that was not the complete truth , she indeed loved Peonies because they weren't intoxicating like roses but she loved them because these flowers were the ones Rogue had given her on the day of their engagement . Peonies signified happy marriage and when Rogue gifted her these flowers , she was over the moon . She believed Rogue gave her these peonies because just like her , he wanted a happy marriage with her but -

I didn't catch the eye of most because I was known to be wolfless and the fact that wasn't the case actually made me giggle a little thinking about it. Walking into the diner I was a bit suprised to see not only Duke and Flint sitting about midway through the diner but the brothers from the other pack sitting with them. I chuckled thinking it was probaly them leaving the note as a stupid prank or warning. I walked in fully planning just to step into the office and talk to Mama Rose. "What you doing here rouge? begging for scraps." Flint hollered at me. I rolled my eyes, it was so obvious when he used rouge as a term not my name and I knew he was looking for a reaction from me. I locked eyes

The bell over the door rings and the smell of coffee hits me, and the barista smiles like this is just another afternoon. “Hey, what can I get you?” “Coffee,” I say. “Black.” She nods and turns around, and I watch reflections in the glass instead of faces. Two wolves I do not recognize. A hunter pretending to scroll. And something else that feels wrong, like rot mixed with metal. Gus is moving pieces. I take the coffee and leave without sitting, and the second I step back outside my phone buzzes again. A call this time. “Arachne,” I say when I answer.

He doesn't see that we're severely outnumbered. Slowly I move my hand over my pocket, where I can feel the handle of the dagger, I curve my fingers over it and ready myself. Nareena steps forwards, the males flank her sides. It's clear she's their newly appointed leader. That's the thing about rogues, they don't care if you're male or female, they just need someone as corrupt as them to lead them down the winding path of destruction. Out the corner of my eye, I see two wolves emerge from either side of me. They have me surrounded and I'm sorely outvoted. The wolves step closer, exposing their canines.

I followed in silence. The alley led to a rusted metal door. Nicholas knocked a complex rhythm. It opened, and a wave of humid, fragrant air washed out. A greenhouse. I knew this place by reputation—a florist who specialized in rare, often illegally imported botanicals for the city’s elite, no questions asked. A mob front. I found a crack in a boarded-up window nearby. Inside was a jungle under glass. Nicholas stood before an elderly man with gnarled hands. They were arguing, voices low but intense.

I barked, "I need the terrace transformed. Now. Get to the florist in San Fruttuoso, the one who does the weddings for the billionaires. I want white orchids, lilies, and those roses that smell like they cost more than your life. I want so many candles that the coast guard thinks the villa is on fire." "Orchids? Roses?" Luca’s voice crackled with confusion. "Don Rino, per l'amor di Dio, I’m a soldier, not a decorator! My mother, she is the one for the flowers, but me? I know how to hide a body in a lemon grove, not—"

As Tom would take me from behind, the warm water running down my back as one hand firmly gripped my hip and the other my shoulder. Don't think of him, whatever you do, don't think of him. Tom Bradley was the Alpha of the Rogues, a pack made up of wolves that had been banished from their packs for various reasons. Some valid, but mostly because they were traitors, vicious and untrustworthy. Which made the pack volatile and unruly, and that chaos suited their leader, whose wolf was becoming more and more unhinged. Not the type of wolf the daughter of the alpha of the prestigious Red Crescent Pack should be in company with. But I just couldn’t stay away, I was drawn to his badness like a moth t

Rose was using her phone to look up the auction site and, sure enough, she found the site and a list of their staff. Probably don’t for clients to verify the staff, there were photos and a short resume of the staffs’ specialties and experience. “Beatrix Carver, Specialist in Celtic Lore and Antiquities, Hawthorne Auction House, Vancouver, BC.” Rose snorted at the photo of the old woman’s disapproving sneer. She didn’t look any different from Rose’s memory. Bea, as her father called her, wasn’t her father’s type to take as a lover. So, what did this woman have that her father wanted so badly? Was that her real name? Clearly, she was human and the lore she dealt in, Rose bet was the living, br

The sun was high in the sky, but the fall weather was already moving in, so it didn’t feel as warm as it had last week. As I emerged from the trees and moved along the path through the clearing, I notice that it’s not just houses in this space, but a few small businesses as well. I passed by a small diner, a carpenter’s shop, and stopped in front of a florist cart. My eyes were immediately drawn to a bouquet that consisted of Jasmine, Dahlia, Asiatic Lilies, and Clematis. The overwhelming urge to buy them for Giovanna was shattered when I realized that I didn’t have a wallet or any money.