Rose Clover Novels & Stories

He supplied and a light seemed to go on. “I’m sorry what does that mean, is that just a name?” She asked interested and pulled out a little steno from her pocket and a pen. She wrote that down. She always wanted to know what the proper name was, and she called it a juniper lily. The flower looked like it grew out of a juniper bush, but had far softer stems. Not quite woody like normal juniper she’d seen. “More a name, it means forever bloom. They bloom even in winter, and can give temporary relief to pain speed up healing. No one has seen it in a very long time. How did you get it, when did you come over?”

Bending over on one knee, Sara carefully placed the flowers in the holes she dug with her own hands to form a circle around the bump of soil, careful not to ruin the roots nor to dig too deep, she didn’t want to ruin the flowers so carelessly when it wasn’t easy to find them in the first place, she spent an hour looking for them, for the wild flowers that the little girl loved so much, and eventually managed to find some lupines, violets, daisies, and clovers.

Her voice was too smooth. I looked at the chest. “What’s inside?” I asked. “A charm for protection, Princess.” She answered. I felt Roses stir at my hip, wrapped against me in her sling. Her tiny fists clenched as if she knew something I didn’t. A faint glow around my neck gave a faint pulse, like a heartbeat answering hers. I was told it was a pearl and it could pulse anywhere in my body. Mara stepped forward. Too close. And then, Roses cried. Not a soft whimper but a shrill, panicked scream. The pearl flared, white-hot light spilling from it, so bright Mara hissed and dropped the chest.

Clover's flowers were exceptionally bright and full, possibly as a result of Adery's better care. Thomas walked over and asked, "These flowers, what's so special about them?" Adery stood up and summarized. "These flowers are a very unique species, according to the research I just completed. They have the ability to metabolize at a high rate and efficiency in a short period of time, as if they are machines that never tire and keep going. "As a result, the host's body nutrients are being consumed at all times, and the weaker these hosts become as time goes.” She looked at Clover with great sympathy and continued, "According to the current level of consumption, Clover will undoubtedly die in le

"Disco—what?" "It's a beautiful white flowering cactus plant, but it's a rare one that can emit magic starlight!" There was excitement in her voice whenever she talked about plants. Violet hopped down from the chair. "Magic? I thought it was just a silly plant. I'm in!" "It's late now, Rose. You can see the plant tomorrow at class." "But the flowers only bloom at night, Mom," Rose begged, showing off her puppy eyes. "Please, let us go," Violet added. I had intended to read them a story from a book I'd borrowed from the library, but who knew they had other plans?

he said and left. Allison stared down at the flower in her hand, she recognized it, and she knows the meaning. It's a white clover and it means 'think of me'. Allison felt her heart skip a beat. She smiled brightly. He was slowly paving his way into her heart.

I only know that they look beautiful. The ripples on the surface of the lake make the colours even more mesmerising, and the soft sounds just add to the ambience. The lake is surrounded by luscious looking green grass and wild flowers. I bend down to take a closer look, and I see that some of the plants have exactly three leaves. "Clovers!" I exclaim with joy and look up at Max. He gives me a subtle nod. I can't help myself, I laugh, I run my hands through the plants, and some of them bend over out of shape, I instantly feel guilty.

Especially not Crownless ones. The herb I seek, is called Mireblossom and it grows in the heart of a swamp carved into the spine of the mountain range. It blooms only during magical storms, feeding off raw energy. And right now, the storm is more than weather. It feels alive, more magical, even.

“I know but there are some lies that are necessary, especially when you promise someone else to maintain them.” “What lies?” This time Paul heard the anger in my voice. “Rose, the man that attacked you, what do you remember about him?” Paul pressed like this had everything to do with what he wanted to tell me. The memory was blurry as I tried to put the pieces together. “I don’t know… he was fast, really fucking fast. And his teeth— No, I was so frightened I imagined most of it.” “Rose,” Ivan touched my hand and my eyes flew open. I hadn’t even realised I’d closed them so tightly. “Just tell us even if it sounds crazy.”

Archard's Perspective There is a gazebo in the back of my garden shaded by Virginia creeper, climbing roses, and a white pine where I sit early in the morning and watch the action. Light blue bells of a dwarf campanula drift over the rock garden just before my eyes. Behind it, a three-foot stand of aconite is flowering now, each dark blue cowl-like corolla bowed for worship or intrigue: thus its common name, monkshood. Next to the aconite, black madonna lilies with their seductive Easter scent are just coming into bloom. At the back of the garden, a hollow log, used in its glory days for a base to split kindling, now spills white cascade petunias and lobelia.