Roses On A Grave Novels & Stories

I had been married to my husband for 27 years, but the love between us had faded long ago. Even our children could see it, and they were the ones who tried to persuade me to get a divorce. "Mom, you and Dad are still young. You still have time to pursue your own life." "Yeah, Mom. You shouldn't force yourself to live like this anymore. We'd support you if you got divorced." With their encouragement, my husband and I finally ended our marriage. My daughter even helped introduce me to someone new. Not long after the divorce, I began a new relationship. But just as I was preparing to remarry, my ex-husband suddenly sued me. He accused me of cheating during our marriage. My own children appeared in court and testified against me. They confirmed his accusations. No matter how hard I tried to explain, no one believed me. In the end, I walked away from the divorce with nothing. My new boyfriend and I were dragged through the mud online. [You shameless old woman. One foot in the grave and you're still chasing another man!] [At your age, you’re still getting divorced? Hope you and your little side piece stay together.] A few self-righteous, extremist internet vigilantes broke into my home. They tied my boyfriend and me to a bed, poured gasoline over us, and set us on fire. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my children first tried to convince me to get a divorce.

My young mistress's betrothed was dying, and she ordered me to marry him in her place to turn his luck. People believed the joy of a wedding could drive out sickness and misfortune, and that a dying man might be pulled back from the grave by it. "The royal physicians all say Lord Blackwell won't live past seven days! Why should I marry him only to be buried at his side? "He's never even seen me. You can marry him instead. "You're nothing but a lowborn maid. Being allowed to marry the regent is the luck of a lifetime." Before I could react, the glowing words appeared before my eyes again. [Celeste is such an idiot. What does she mean, he won't live past seven days? Lord Blackwell has the male lead's plot armor!] [Baby girl, say yes! Lord Blackwell is a wife-spoiling maniac. He'd give you his life!] [Once Lord Blackwell wakes up, your good days begin. First you'll be freed from your bond, then you'll be made a lady of the first rank, and then you'll rise straight to the top!] I knelt before my mistress and bowed my head low. "Thank you, my lady. I'm willing to marry in your place." The top of the world was too far away for me to imagine, but right now, I truly didn't want to be a servant anymore.

Hunter Webster is the Alpha's son; the next Alpha in line once he turns 18 but to humans, he's just the mayor's son, a bad boy and an embodiment of trouble. Hunter has a secret; his bad-boy attitude was just a cover-up for the grave sin he's committing until a girl from his past came into the picture, ready to win over his heart and unravel his darkest secrets.Babara Arnold attracts trouble everywhere she gets to, even if it is at school or home. She meets Hunter Webster after several years and in the process of trying to avoid the bad boy, she keeps on getting thrown into his hands. "What are you doing here?" I asked. I could hear murmuring around us."Eating, just like you three" he replied"You can't sit here," I warned."Why?" "You're trouble," I replied."Is that surprising? You see me in leather jackets, bikes and I have tattoos as well. Isn't that enough to let you know that boys like that are usually trouble? You don't have to state the obvious, Babe" He answered. "You need to leave" "If you want your cousin to be safe, you'll sit like the good girl that you are and have breakfast" He warned.I turned to look at Pinky and I could see the discomfort on her face. The guys with her waved at me to my disgust."Sit Babara. Don't make me hurt somebody else today? Yesterday was enough for me," He growled in an inhuman manner.

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed inside and told the officer on duty that the killings weren't random—that the murderer was coming for me. They looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Then my husband arrived in a hurry and took me away. But the moment we reached our front door, a heavy hammer smashed into the back of my head. Through the blinding pain, I forced my eyes open, but I never saw who killed me. Now, staring at the grave expression on the news anchor's face, agony surged through every inch of my body. Rebirth isn't a reset. The damage accumulates—and sooner or later, it will torture me to death. Without hesitation, I walked into the kitchen and set a pot of oil to heat. And I waited… for the moment the lock began to turn.

The floodwaters were about to swallow our home, yet my wife—the captain of the rescue team—took every last member with her to save the man she had always loved. That was when I realized she had been reborn too. In our previous life, the moment she heard I was in danger, she had rushed to save me without hesitation. Because of that, she missed his call. He fell into a depressive episode and took his own life. But before he died, he posted online, accusing me of bullying him throughout our school years—and of stealing the woman he loved. After his death, the internet turned on me. I became the target of relentless harassment. My wife said she didn't blame me. She treated me as she always had. Yet, on what would have been his birthday, she broke both my limbs—and my mother's as well. Then, in front of his grave, she shoved the two of us into a folded bathtub. "If I'd known you bullied Nathan all those years, I would never have married you! You could swim, yet you deliberately called me to save you. It's all your fault—Nathan wouldn't have killed himself otherwise!" I listened to my mother's agonized cries as despair swallowed me whole. And then I died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the flood. This time, she could save her beloved. I won't stand in her way.

The fearsome Romano family has made an announcement. Whoever among me and my sister, Vivienne Everhart, can give birth to the first grandson of the Romano bloodline shall inherit the Romanos' wealth that's worth tens of billions of dollars. Also, said grandson will be the next Don of the Romano family. In my previous life, Vivienne had married Dominic Romano, a healthy and strong young man of the Romano family. My parents were the one who had arranged for this marriage to happen. I, on the other hand, got married to Julian Romano, a gloomy man who was confined to his wheelchair due to his crippled legs. In less than a year after our marriage, Julian had regained his ability to walk once again. At the same time, I got pregnant with the first grandson of the Romano family. As such, Vivienne got abused by Dominic to the point that she completely lost her marbles. That was how she became the laughingstock of the rich socialites of the upper crust. On the day I was about to go into labor, Vivienne stabbed my belly with a blade. Then, she grabbed me before jumping off a tall building with me in her arms. When I open my eyes again, I see Vivienne snatching away the bouquet made of blue roses that's given to me by Julian. "I want to marry Julian!" "Vivienne, how could you snatch Isabella's bouquet away?" As soon as Vivienne receives the fancy blue rose bouquet, she freezes in place when she hears our father scolding her. After Dad grabs the bouquet from Vivienne's hands, he passes it to me before saying, "Isabella, you have a healthy body. Julian might be handicapped, but at least he's pretty talented when it comes to running his business." Then, he pats Vivienne on the head lovingly. "Vivienne, you're in poor health. Marrying Dominic is your best option." As I stare at the blue rose bouquet in my hands as well as the wedding gown I'm currently wearing, I dig my nails into my palm forcefully. Finally, I realize that I've gotten reborn.

I've been mated to Alpha Alaric Goremane for five years, and I'm still a virgin. On the night he claims me, I stand before him, naked. With my heart pounding against my chest, I muster the courage to step forward and wrap my arms around him. But he pulls away, and then comes the words that lingered in my head for years like a devil's whisper. "I'm sorry, Kyna. I have severe germaphobia and can't handle physical intimacy. Please give me some time." In that moment, my heart plunges into the abyss. But when I see the torment in his eyes, I convince myself that he doesn't love me any less. He's just sick, and all I have to do is wait. So, I wait for five long years. On our fifth mating anniversary, I cross thousands of miles in a raging storm just to see the look of delight on his face when I surprise him. Sure enough, I see the warmth in his eyes and gentleness in his expression. But what a pity… it isn't for me. The Alpha, who claims to be an obsessive clean freak, is on one knee before his childhood sweetheart. He gently slips off her rain-soaked heels, dries her feet, and warms her cold toes with the heat of his palm. It's as if that's the most natural thing in the world, and as if his world holds no one else. He sighs. "Serene, how many times have I told you that you'll catch a cold? What would you do without me?" In that instant, the last of my delusions shatters. I finally realize that his germaphobia is selective, and I'm simply the one he can't bear to touch. Instead of making a fuss, I slip off the ring I've worn for five years and walk into the storm without looking back. Later, I hear he tries to win me back with the most expensive roses in the city. But the Kyna Lupen who loves him is long gone.

Caitlin and Caleb find themselves, once again, back in time—this time, in the London of 1599.

London in 1599 is a wild place, filled with paradoxes: while on the one hand it is an incredibly enlightened, sophisticated time, breeding playwrights like Shakespeare, on the other, it is also barbaric and cruel, with daily public executions, torture, and heads of prisoners impaled on spikes. It is also a time of superstition and grave public danger, with a lack of sanitation, and the Bubonic Plague spreading in the streets, carried by rats.

In this environment Caitlin and Caleb land, on the search for her father, for the third key, for the mythical shield that can save humankind. Their mission takes them through a whirlwind of London’s most amazing medieval architecture, through the British countryside’s most breathtaking castles. It takes them back into the heart of London, where they just might meet Shakespeare himself, and see one of his plays live. It brings them to a little girl, Scarlet, who just might become their daughter. And all the while, Caitlin’s love for Caleb deepens, as finally they are together—and as Caleb might just finally find the perfect time, and place, to propose to her.

Sam and Polly have traveled back, too, and as they find themselves stuck together on their own journey, their relationship deepens, as they each, despite themselves, can’t help feeling more deeply for each other.

But all is not well. Kyle has come back, too, as has his evil sidekick, Sergei, and they are both intent on destroying everything good in Caitlin’s life. It will be a race to the finish, as Caitlin is forced to make some of the hardest decisions of her life if she is to save everyone who is dear to her, save her relationship with Caleb—and try to make it out alive.

There was a fire in my house. After I risked my life to save my parents, who were the richest people in the country, multiple media outlets wanted to interview me. Faced with the journalists' questions, my parents said that they would fulfill any of my wishes. Their adopted daughter, Lily Jackson, thought that I would use this chance to drive her away, and her eyes had begun to turn red. But I just looked at the camera and said coldly, "I want to sever all ties with the Jackson family, and I want all of you to be witnesses of my decision." The crowd went into an uproar. My parents were infuriated. The journalists wanted to ask some more questions, but I just started packing my luggage. Only I was aware that I was reborn. During my previous life, I took the chance of this interview to drive Lily out of the family. Not long after she was taken away by her biological parents, they sold her to a man, and she died a terrible death within her husband's house. My parents pretended like they didn't care and said to me that it was Lily's fate, but in truth, they secretly started poisoning my food. After the poison killed me, they placed my body in front of Lily's grave in a position as if I was on my knees and apologizing to her. They made me pay for Lily's death with my life. "If you hadn't driven Lily away, Lily wouldn't have met such a terrible fate! You should pay for what happened to her with your life!" That was the last thing I heard, and I became completely disappointed with them. But when I opened my eyes again, I realized I was reborn and went back to the day of the fire.

"Silvia Ironwolf, for your crime of murder, you will be forever banished from the Packs," Omega Rovit intoned. Another humiliation. To have my fate read out to me by the lowliest member of the Ironwolf Pack while all the others turned their backs. Rovit was loving it. He had worshipped Jedan. He leaned forward, his face close to mine, his spit landing on my face, "And if you ever return to the Wildlands," he finished, "You will be torn limb from limb, your remains fed to the vultures." If my hands had not been bound by the leather mitts, shackled together with silver, I would have ripped his sneering face from his skull and fed that to the vultures. My nails scraped against the soft leather interior of the mitts. My iron nails. The pack guardsmen blunted many tools before giving up on removing the iron from my fingertips. The iron was part of me now. They said that Jedan was barely recognizable when they found him. They said that the iron was a curse that had been bred out of the pack centuries ago. They said that it was my curse that killed Jedan, future Alpha of Firewolf. It was Jedan's inability to understand 'No' that killed him. Now I will be punished. Banished forever from my pack, from the Wildlands. From my love, Vuko. The brother of the man I have slain. * Four years later and the Wildlands packs face a grave threat to their existence. Vuko, the reluctant Alpha of Firewolf, believes they need Silvia if they have any chance of survival. *He* needs Silvia. Will Vuko find Silvia? Will Silvia forgive the packs for the injustice done to her? Is she truly cursed? Are Vuko and Silvia destined for each other?