Sisters Book Cover Novels & Stories

Somehow, my sister’s fever broke, and the night before I was supposed to be sold, she shook me awake. “Sis—” “Shhhh.” Rosalia pressed a finger to her lips, her blue eyes glinting in the dark. I could barely see her outline, but I could feel her urgency as she whispered, “Let’s go. Christoph’s waiting for us. We’re escaping tonight.” For a second, I thought I was dreaming. But my sister’s hand was solid and warm as she pulled me up. We then crept between the sleeping kids, careful not to step on anyone, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure someone would hear.

You don’t make me smaller, You don’t dim to let me shine. You stand beside me, shoulders strong, And somehow we both rise. They see the kindness in your smile, The brilliance in your mind. They don’t see the ancient instinct, That walks a step behind. You laugh with me in daylight, You guard me in the night. Soft as falling feathers, Fierce when all's not right. I’ve never had someone stay, Without wanting something more. But you stayed because you chose me, That’s what sisters are for.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. Oopsie Daisy (The Flower Shop Sisters Book 3) Published by Blue Violet Press LLC Seattle, Washington Copyright © 2019 by Iris Morland Cover design by Qamber Designs All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief

We had long fantasized about the two sisters and had voiced our fantasies to each other during numerous long bouts of our sexual trysts. Nicole was older by 10 months, but no one could tell by looking at them. They were both slim and perky with black hair and green eyes. Their breasts and asses were perfectly shaped for their petite frames. As the first and third bases, these sisters were knockouts. We all hugged and chatted as we relaxed in the rec room. The sisters wore matching high loose fitting red shorts and overly large red football jerseys that gave both of them the illusion of not wearing any pants. Rebecca and I were practically salivating at the image.

I take it out of the box gently and begin neatly removing the tape and wrapping paper. It's a book. The book has brown leather covering it. The language on it looks like that of the ancients and it's written in gold ink. "Kyra, I found something," I say not taking my eyes off the book and she comes up from behind me. "The tale of two sisters..." she says thoughtfully. "Our father used to tell us that story," she says and I turn the book over. I open it and notice the cover is thicker than a normal book cover.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not (The Flower Shop Sisters Book 2) Published by Blue Violet Press LLC Seattle, Washington Copyright © 2019 by Iris Morland Cover design by Qamber Designs

Cassie trudged up the hill with her sisters, the massive packhouse looming before them. The three of them weren’t particularly tall, but they were strong. With thick auburn hair and hazel eyes. Their faces, arms and legs were largely covered in freckles. A gift from so many days spent out in the sun with the rest of the pack. The sun was fading now, as they walked through the main room and up the stairs to their families’ wing of the house. They shared a kind of suite, with three bedrooms branching off of a small sitting room. The large bathroom could accommodate all of them, but there always seemed to be a fight over its use.

When my sister threw herself into the arms of the masked man, I knew that she had reincarnated too. In our last life, when she saw the handsome face of Yoran the Alpha lycan, she promptly threw herself at him as if bewitched. At the same time, she tripped me in front of the masked man. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Erin—I didn't mean to. But someone as ugly as you really doesn't suit an Alpha." Then, leering at the masked man behind me in disdain, she scoffed, "The way I see it, you suit him way more."

I wondered why his mother was yet to show up, they made it seem like this was some sort of distant house where one had to wait for a long while before they showed up. "No. Casey and Yvonne are my other sisters but they are way older, married and live with their husbands now. "Oh, I see." I said. I opened my mouth to raise a new question but a tall woman appeared through the doorway his sister had gone into. It explained his height instantly and the striking resemblance could not be dismissed. She looked extremely happy to see her child seated there. She put on a huge grin before turning to look at me. "Caramel dear?" She blurted, a bit of doubt edged into her sentence.

I can’t control the future, only the here and now, and right now I just want to focus on reaching the top and not on a mystery animai who is Gods knows where doing Gods knows what. At some point, my seventh round of climbing is interrupted by the sound of travelling footsteps and the scent of a freshly lit fire and hot cocoa. “There you are!” announces my sister Hiranur. Clinging to the wall I glance towards the doorway to see her gamboge aura with glittering gold surrounding her. When learning colours and shades I noticed that the colours surrounding my sisters are all very unique in their shading, which seems very fitting. “I wasn’t hiding,” I say smartly.