Undying Rose Novels & Stories

She started wagging her tail and jumping up and down. I swear I just heard her say 'Mate' but that's impossible. Second chance mates didn't exist, and we just rejected our Goddess given mate. But then, the most amazing smell hit me, even more mouthwatering than when I smelled Mason. It smelled like Whiskey and Chocolate. That mixture was breath taking. Aunt Tara noticed me sniffing the air. "Alex, what's wrong?" She asks. As soon as her last word left her mouth, he door slammed open with such force, I thought for sure it was going to fall off the henges. What I saw in front of me left me speechless. A man in his twenties, 6'11, covered in tattos with short kept black hair, and the most beaut

And the blush that was barely receding was back again. "I'm not a pretty little flower, Roses are as pretty as they are dangerous." He scoffed, standing up and even from where he was standing, I could see that he'll tower over me. He straightened out his suit jacket. Eyes boring into mine. "The only dangerous roses are those with thorns Rose, and you my dear, you have no thorns. You're a pretty little flower, a harmless little flower." He walked towards me till he was standing right Infront of me, towering over me as expected, I craned my neck just too look at him. "I'll be taking my leave now pretty flower, say hi to Mr. Potter for me."

Roseanne wheezes and gasps as the hold on her neck tightens. “Come-” The rest of his words are interrupted by a blast of red sparks which erupted from Roseanne’s fingertips. She directed her attack on its face, knocking it backwards. The Undead is taken by surprise and before he can recover, Roseanne hits it with another red spark. “You b*tch!” The Undead growls and jumps towards her. Roseanne sends more blasts at it. Her attacks are not strong enough to deter the Undead but she is trying to buy enough time to escape with Sir Syron. Her head is starting to spin but she ignores her discomfort, scanning around to see where the Undead has gone.

It was a truly horrid sight. Rose fought from atop her black stallion, using her sword to send the heads of multiple undead flying, their broken forms scattering like twigs but despite her efforts, exhaustion gnawed at the edges of her strength. Especially as the undead kept regenerating. She cursed inwardly, wondering how Ron was able to get such an undeafeatable army. Did he sell his soul to the devil or what? Even she that made a deal with the Shadow Master was given an army of sorcerers. Where the hell did he get an entire army of the undead that regenerated whenever they were struck down? She wanted to scream for it was so frustrating. Sweat slicked her brow, her breaths coming in short

"And these bones, I guess you could read their dead, right?" "That was different," he said. "I couldn't tell. And I was hungry." Rose arched her brow and sighed. "So, you're free," Fred said. "Indeed I am," Ross said. "It's amazing you came to see me first?" "Why is that?" Fred looked at her and chuckled. "You seem to forget you have countless lovers, Rose. You're the very embodiment of sex. Love. Danger. The Rose is your name. Beautiful, its red petal which signifies love. The allure the effect of the rose creates is sex. And let's not forget the thorn that protects the rose. Danger. You're a mixture of all three in one. Your sisters as regal as they are, none is more important to human sur

It takes my whole day to know who is she? I search about her and her family and know that her name is a Rose and her brother also killed by Evil and then she became mad and went into a mental hospital then she escapes from this hospital and now she is in my mansion, there is no doubt that she is mental now and dirty also. But I’ll recover her soon as possible, I’ll try my best to recover her and spend my whole life with her. I plan everything and take many black roses about 500 and separate their petals then spread all these petals into the room and a red rose, which is in reality a magic rose in which a fairy was in imprisonment, also hide here. I wait every second for her that when she com

Jayden flips her folds with his right thumb, his other hand caressing her plum breast. She whimpers, her back arcing upward. She’s so sensitive, Jayden realized. “Did she tell you how stubborn we are?” he asked, applying pressure on her clit, teasing her with his calloused thumb. “Did she tell you that once we like someone, we never ever leave them alone?” he smacked her breast lightly. Rita, helpless and sore, cries out. It’s hard to discern the cry. Is it from pleasure or helplessness? She—’

I opened my own studio, and my days became full, vibrant, and happy. One night, Jordan stepped out of the shower, a towel slung loosely around his waist. As he turned, I caught sight of a tattoo on the small of his back. I leaned closer. It was a rose in full bloom—beside it, a little girl dancing. My fingertips trembled as I traced it, my eyes stinging. "I had it done when I was seventeen," he said softly. His gaze lowered to mine, eyes shimmering with starlight. "I wanted to keep it a secret until the day you became my bride."

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.