Room To Bloom Novels & Stories

In the end, I turned and left alone. No sooner had I stepped out of the room than someone suddenly clamped over my mouth and nose and yanked me backward. Fear shot through me, and I struggled wildly. However, their grip was astonishingly strong, and the stench of sweat and alcohol from him made my hair stand on end. "Sofia wasn't lying. You're young and beautiful. I bet you'd be a fun one to play with," a man said. I was forcefully thrown into an empty private room. By then, I could feel my limbs going weak.

The room was… a lot. A massive bed sat in the center, shaped like a heart and covered in red rose petals. More petals were scattered across the floor, leading from the door to the bed in a romantic trail. Candles lined the windowsills and the dresser, all unlit for now but clearly meant to set a mood later. The curtains were drawn back to reveal a private balcony overlooking the ocean. Nora looked around slowly. “What are the flowers for?” she whispered. I forced a smile. “Decoration,” I said.

Said with my eye for fashion, I shouldn't throw away my shot to grow. The email sat there in my inbox, like the one bright spot in all this mess. *** I drove back to my small rented apartment. Not big, but clean, quiet—mine. I turned off my phone, peeled off the heavy wedding dress, and washed the makeup off my face.

For six months I renovated the condo where my fiancé and I were supposed to begin our married life. Grant said he was buried in a project. My brother said he was always traveling. My best friend said something had come up at home. Not one of them had time to lend a hand. The night before I moved in, they covered my eyes and told me someone I would never guess had come back to warm the place for me. The door opened, and there was Serena Cole, a childhood friend I hadn’t seen in years, wearing my slippers and rushing at me with a smile. “Surprised?” I was. Until she said, offhand, “These past few days I couldn’t have managed without Grant helping me pick a mattress, Owen carrying my bags,

When I was seven, I stole a phone and called my mother's family. That was how I finally got her out of the compound where my father had kept her prisoner. When my grandfather stormed into the cellar, Mom was chained by the neck, with bloodstained whips scattered at her feet. He beat my father nearly to death. The man spent the rest of his life paralyzed and bedridden. Before Mom got into the car, she reached for me through her tears. "Evan, come with me." I grabbed the hem of her coat—and then I remembered my previous life. Back then, she had taken me with her. Her family had never accepted her for bringing home the son of the man who destroyed her life. She endured years of contempt for

The morning after the announcement, Florentis Quarter felt smaller. Not in distance. Not in streets. In air. Lillian Bloom opened Bloom House Floral at six forty five out of habit, but the lock resisted, as if it had forgotten her. When the door finally gave, the bell chimed with the same gentle note it always had. Still, the sound seemed to travel farther than it used to, as if the whole street had leaned closer to listen. Inside, everything was unchanged. The vases. The shelves. The clean buckets. The scent of wet stems and green life.

“Please, let me know if you need anything else.” Flora thanked him with a small smile, pushing open one of the doors and stepping inside. The room she entered was stunning in its masculinity. The dark blue color palette immediately stood out, deep and rich, making the space feel intimate yet luxurious. The walls were lined with shelves holding books, small mementos, and tasteful pieces of art. A fireplace roared quietly in the corner, the flames dancing with a warm orange glow. A large bed, dressed in plush navy linens, dominated the room. The entire space radiated Damien’s presence — powerful, yet inviting.

Lexie wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "You're welcome. That's all I can do for you. I'm sorry that I couldn't help you, Lexie.” "I appreciate your kindness. Don't ever help me. I don't want you to get into trouble." Lexie entered the room whose door had just been opened by Jacob. The interior of the room was almost the same as the room she had stayed in last night, except that it had pink sheets with a cherry blossom motif. The scent in the room was a calming lavender scent. There was a candle lit in the corner of the room. Lexie wondered why the room looked more well-maintained than the room she had stayed in last night. But she decided not to think about all that complicated bec

I walk inside, and the door clicks shut behind me. I stop in my tracks. The room is huge and beautiful, but it doesn't look like a business meeting. There are thousands of white roses everywhere. Candles are lit on every surface, filling the air with a sweet, warm scent. Soft music is playing from hidden speakers. I walk further into the room, my heels clicking on the polished floor. I expected to see a table full of men in suits, but the space is empty. Then, I see it. At the far end of the room, there is a massive wall of flowers. Built into the roses are glowing lights that form words. My breath catches in my throat as I read them.

Andy smirks at me knowingly. “I’m off to bed guys.” Andy announces, she gives me a scathing look, “Esther told me I have to sleep in the floral room.” It’s my turn to smirk at her now, “That’s because Sally and Dax are taking the guest house.” “The floral room?” Luke asks “Yeah, the rooms have a name, the floral room is actually called the Rose room, it’s fifty shades of pink.” “And it’s going to hurt my eyes when I wake up in the morning,” Andy says as she stomps up to the house, making us all laugh.