Roses Novels & Stories

After stepping inside and taking in the room full of colorful blossoms, he lit a cigarette and asked in a low voice, "What kind of flowers should I send if I want to win back a woman's heart?" The florist looked at the distinguished man and pondered for a moment before responding, "Roses and lisianthus. Roses represent love, while lisianthus represents eternity."

A looked crossed his eyes,but it went away as quickly as it came, and soon he was looking at me amused again. "Of course, I didn't anticipate finding raunchy books in a sweet girl's bag, you're definitely right. Noted, I'm never doing that again." I scowled and he smirked. "So Rosie?" He asked, I couldn't help it, I rolled my eyes at that, rubbing at my temples. "No, my name's Rosette, not Rosie. That's childish." "Okay, so Rose. Well that's a pretty name for a very pretty girl, as cliché as it sounds, it's the truth, you're a pretty little flower." And the blush that was barely receding was back again.

She still felt somewhat worried. In the Turner family garden, vast stretches of red roses were in full bloom. Due to special cultivation techniques, these roses grew like they were on trees. There was a small path between each tree, and as people walked through, the faint fragrance of the flowers would stick to them, leaving them in a relaxed and peaceful mood.

The red rose, symbolizing love and passion, mirrored the fiery energy of their connection. Kaia, surprised and touched by Beau's whimsical move, accepted the rose with a radiant smile. The exchange added a unique and personal touch to their union, creating a moment that would forever be etched in the memories of all who witnessed it. The red rose, now a part of their shared narrative, became a poignant symbol of the spontaneity and romance woven into the fabric of their love story.

“While you were away. Lord Rustyn. He brought something from Lady Celia and the queen.” My jaw tightens. But my eyes are on the roses. Even in winter, the cursed things bloom. Blue roses that climb the black stone walls, their petals sharp against the frost. They wither and bloom in ghostly cycles, yet never touch the ground. Always vanishing midair, leaving behind only that sweet and rotten scent. It clings to your throat, making you feel the misery etched deep within it. “Rogues?” I ask, eyes narrowing on a cluster of petals curling into vapor.

“Only good little humans get to cum, Rose.” I wiped my mouth furiously and glared at him as he admired my flushed body. “I don’t want you to make me cum. I don’t want you touching me ever again!” “Careful what you wish for,” he smirked. “Now get dressed. I have the perfect task for you today.” ೋღ🌹ღೋ

"For the last time, that's powder. Foundation is supposed be liquid" "No, this is foundation" "Powder" "Foundation" "Powder" Foundation " "Pow_" The door opened abruptly and there stood Leo with Hailey beside him with a wicked smile on her face.

*** "Sebastian? Sebastian! Sebastian where are you?" Gosh, where could he be? Zeke took the stairs to the back and proceeded to the green house. "Sebastian!" He called as he entered. He heard some rustling ahead by the rose plantation so he approached. He sighed he relief when he saw Sebastian sitting on a bench by the rose flowers. "Here you are." Sebastian didn't raise his head to him. Zeke joined him on the bench. Non of them said anything for the first two minutes until Zeke broke the awkward silence.

*** Romaine was still debating if what she saw earlier at Thalia’s garden were real or just a phantom caused by the black rose’s influence. A dozen of black-colored roses identical to a Black Peruvian Rose were growing in Thalia’s rosarium. Though there are black flowers that are quite popular here in Ireland such as the black dahlias and the Queen of the Night tulips, Romaine was still in doubt that the flowers she saw was in any way a Black Peruvian Rose. Considering that the latter has silver linings along the petals’ edges, much like the flower she saw earlier before she left her neighbor’s English-style house.

She had such a good heart. Then she said conversationally, “You know there’s no such thing as black with blue-tipped roses, right?” My mouth sagged open, before I blinked and shook my head, unable to believe what I’d just heard. “Say what again?” “Roses only come in shades of white, red, yellow and purples or variations and mixes between those. Anything else is artificially created.” Still slowly shaking my head back and forth in adamant denial, I said, “No…no, that can’t be right.”