Rose Covered Novels & Stories

He stayed in the car and waited. Holding a bouquet of white roses, Daisy slowly walked through rows of gravestones until she stopped in front of the one tucked away in the farthest corner. The stone bore only Dario's name and the years of his birth and death. In the photograph, he had on a black suit. His distinct features were exactly the same as the first time Daisy had met him. She placed the white roses in front of the gravestone and stood there silently for a long time. Finally, she said softly, "When I said I wouldn't forgive you, I meant it. But I don't hate you anymore either. Rest in peace."

I know that seems like a lot, but with about four thousand in the pack, that is small. Rose dresses in slim cut dark heather grey slacks with comfy flats and a silk baby blue boat necked blouse tucked into the front of her pants. She keeps her mark on full display by pulling her soft straight hair into a high stylish ponytail, adds a simple winged eyeliner with mascara on her eyes and nudish pink lip gloss to her plump lips.

Rose has always had an expensive taste, a rare one at that, and she often ditches men she finds either too clingy or too arrogant, her standards high and unwavering. “Hello, ladies -” Just as we settle into the comforting rhythm of our conversation, Rafael joins us uninvited, his presence casting a shadow over our peaceful moment. “Are you here to have a conversation about babies and diapers?” Rose, ever the bold one, manages to handle his sarcasm with grace and composure, her sharp wit and quick tongue keeping him in check. “You don’t seem like the kind of woman who talks about diapers and baby bottles -” he winks. Despite Rafael's disruptive presence, the bond between Rose and me remains u

Carlos says as he scratches the back of his head. Rosalia turns around at the sound of his voice. Carlos gazes at Rosalia and flashes her with one of his jaw-dropping smiles. Her head snaps back in my direction, and her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. I watch her as she tucks her loose hair behind her ear, and when I look back at Carlos, he remains staring at the back of her head. I casually flick my eyes between the two and realise the air has become thick with wonderment.

She was glad that it was Friday at that time; so that she’s not gonna worry about attending classes the next day. “That was awful..” Rozelyn mumbled as she held the rose in her right hand. Suddenly, a drop of blood—courtesy of the rose’s prickly thorns—came out from her index finger, making her reminisce about the horrible sweven she had before she lost consciousness. Or was it not a sweven?

REJECTED Rose's parents gave him deaf ears because the more he apologized, the angrier they got. It was hard for them to behold his presence as it made them imagine his guts for still apologizing after causing the demise of their daughter. Rose's father, Mr. Gabriel almost strangled him to death but was held back by his wife.

I took the first drag and blew the smoke towards her face. That seemed to do the trick, her eyes snapped open. Revealing the puffiness and redness it had hidden. "ah, I see. You want a smoke right? " I lifted the cigarette to her face. Her sullen gaze metamorphosed into a glare. I chuckled softly and took another drag of the cigarette and dispelled the smoke in her face again. Her eyelids fluttered for a few seconds, when she finally glared back at me again, there was moisture shining under her lower lids. I was sure the moisture wasn't because she was crying.

“Sorry, I’m a bit out of it.” She shrugged, and opening the small door in the gate. She had no umbrella with her, I’m guessing she go out in a hurry. Who wouldn’t when their cousin was standing in front of her own home gate, and staring at her house like a psycho? “Don’t apologize. Let’s get you inside before you catch a cold.” I nod, following her through the door. The walkway is just like I remember, on each side are prize winning roses. Of different colors. Huh? When do black roses exist? I took a small detour from following Alexis, bending over a patch of those strange black roses.

However, before the food was served, the waiter brought over a bouquet of red roses. "This is for Ms. Stafford, sent by one Mr. Pennington in congratulations for the successful art exhibition." Heather did not take the flowers. She told the waiter to send them back. "Tell Mr. Pennington that I don't like red roses." Red roses were Anne's favorite, not hers. She only liked pink ones.

The second guard staggered, a bullet shattering his collarbone, his rifle firing blindly into the ceiling before he collapsed into the glass shards. I snapped the bald brute’s neck with one final, savage twist and dropped his limp body onto the floor. I spun around, my chest heaving heavily beneath my armor, my face covered in dark red spray. Rodah was standing near the broken glass doors, the SIG Sauer raised in her trembling hands, smoke curling slowly from the barrel. Her robe had fallen completely off her left shoulder, exposing the full, pale curve of her breast to the red light. Her green eyes were wild, her mouth open as she panted, the raw shock of her first kills vibrating through h