This book is my debut novel [ shrieks in incredulity @_@ ].
I can’t even believe that I have finished it. I originally tended this book to be a stand-alone. But, I become indulged on the own world that I created that I decided to expand it >_< .
I know that an urban dark fantasy with a touch of steamy romance is not that popular for online novels. But I still finished it anyway; despite my initial belief that I can’t get pass through 50k words. And here I am, finishing a book with a whopping 70 chapters and more than a hundred thousand words!
The sequel and final installment of The Blood Rose saga entitled, “Queen of Vampires and Werewolves”, will be coming this April—or May.
Anyway, since this is a non-exclusive book, a self-published paperback version of this novel (which will be the second edition as I have removed and edited some scenes) will soon be available.
Once again, I thank you dear reader from the bottom of my heart for your unwavering support.
With love,
Nymeria
Rozelyn. That was the name my Irish mother Visennagave me before her very last breath. My father said in his journal— the one I’ve found in that God-forsaken room and recently read minutes ago— that he can still recall her last moments after she gave birth to me. He declared that it was indeed haunting to a person even up to this day. Haunting because being able to witness with your eyes the moment your loved one took their last breath will forever be marked in your memories. After my Irish mother closed her very eyes, my African father gave me my second name. He told me that the name was derived from a Japanese flower, kind of resembling a tulip but more elegant compared to a usual one. Nadeshiko. He told me it had a silent “I” when you pronounce it. He told me that he named me after a flower because, despite my mixed races,
Rozelyn just finished her first week of being a freshman. Psychology was the major subject she chose and Philosophy was the minor one. She currently studies at St. Patrick’s College, located only five minutes from their abode in the heart of Shamrock, Ireland. Her raven-black hair was in a tight bun, causing her nape to be wholly exposed as she walked by the streets of the city. The sky was already enveloped by the tawny sunset when she arrived home. Their house was not that grandiose, but it can already be called home due to its cozy ambiance and serene atmosphere. Romaine was cooking an Irish stew and some anchovies. Rozelyn’s appetite suddenly dropped from being famished to being forcefully full. She hasn't liked anchovies or Irish stew since she was five years ol
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Cyrill’s voice was as loud as an ambulance’ siren. It was his voice that woke her up from her seemingly surreal dream. He turned around to face the thick burgundy curtains that hinder the sunlight from entering the chilled room by the glass window. He then grasped the hems and swiftly split it open. Rozelyn looked to her left. Her alarm clock reads 6:15 in the morning; too early for a Saturday birthday celebration. The sunlight swept the darkness; filling her entire room with beaming light that glared at her emerald green eyes, causing her to slip away from her vivid thoughts—courtesy of last night’s nightmare. She groaned as she covered her eyes with the ‘Avengers’ pillow from the blinding rays of the sun while suddenly realizing the presence of her stepmom’s adoptive son.
Her violet-colored bed remained empty even when the morning star began to climb in the vast heavenly blanket. Rozelyn continued reading her father’s journal that she found in that revolting room. She didn’t know how to process her father’s words and messages. She doesn’t even want to continue reading, if not for the awestrucking revelation her parent have divulged. So, she talked with her journal in order to calm herself. She always does that when she’s anxious or perturbed. Her father even told her the origins of her name in his diary—causing her to reminisce about her childhood experience with him and her uncle Imani Onai. As she was
It tastes like sticky sweet red wine. She never knew that the taste of blood was just like drinking refreshing cool water. Nevertheless, she enjoyed her orchard visit with her stepmom. Lush nature really makes one serene and cheerful and in a soothing mood. Romaine said that Cyrill wasn’t with them because he had a musical invitation from the local orchestra. It’s kind of disappointing for Rozelyn that her stepmom’s pup wasn’t with them to witness the paradise of the orchard. Anyway, she’s happy for him—what makes Cyrill happy, makes her happy. At least, he’s spending time with music again after his departure from England. Music always calms one’s soul since the dawn of time.
Her stepmom said that she’s an Elemental Vampire. According to her, it is one of the nine supernatural abilities that a vampire and werewolf can possess. An Elemental can spark flames in a snap and summon vicious storms in a single glance and can even break windows via the Elemental’s wind abilities. Nonetheless, she liked it anyway. She felt identical to X-men’s Storm and Beautiful Creatures’ Lena Duchannes. Romaine said that she’s still a “baby vampire”, which means that her abilities are not that vivid yet. It can be triggered mostly by extreme emotions like anger or fury. It takes three long months to fully prosper one’s powers, sometimes longer depending on the entity’s constant feeding. *** It’s a miracle that she’s already awake at four in the morning. Well, s
Silence seems to be the family’s emblem. Even though the three are not blood related, it still seems that they’re blood relatives due to the fact that a problem of one becomes the dilemma of everybody. Cyrill was the one driving the car this time. Romaine was in absolute quietude—probably because of anger and enigma, or both. Anger because of her step daughter accidentally setting Maebh’s dress on fire and Enigma because of her recent discovery of Rozelyn’s profound abilities. Rozelyn, on the other hand, seems to be in apparent ire and bereavement due to Maebh mentioning and insulting her late mother. Rozelyn is a kind of person that never wants to hear insults and mockery from people, especially when it concerns herself and her family. Maebh was lucky that it
Eku was somehow anxious. He has made Visenna drink the Blood Rose by boiling its petals by the beginning of the latter’s final trimester. The blood rose water was no doubt identical to an oozing vibrant red blood. He doesn’t give a damn to the consequences for now. The only important thing in this instant is the survival of both his daughter and his Irish wife. He was still peering by the delivery room when Romaine, his wife’s best friend, approached him in a violet-fitting dress. “I’ve already told you Mazari,” Romaine addressed the botanist by his second name. “I’ve told you even before you ventured into that cursed blood rose that one flower will only save and immortalize one ind
This book is my debut novel [ shrieks in incredulity @_@ ]. I can’t even believe that I have finished it. I originally tended this book to be a stand-alone. But, I become indulged on the own world that I created that I decided to expand it >_< . I know that an urban dark fantasy with a touch of steamy romance is not that popular for online novels. But I still finished it anyway; despite my initial belief that I can’t get pass through 50k words. And here I am, finishing a book with a whopping 70 chapters and more than a hundred thousand words! The sequel and final installment of The Blood Rose saga entitled, “Queen of Vampires and Werewolves”, will be coming this April—or May. Anyway
Rozelyn’s irresistible smell still lingers in his nose, despite the fact that he is already in Avril’s house—in which the pregnant Anaztasia Arryn is also staying. “You okay, Cy?” asked Avril as he handed him a can of beer. Avril Arke’s backyard is so spacious and calming, as if the lushness of this place resembles a virgin forest. “Not really. I…I have hinted to Roz that my heart yearns for her.” A smile tugged on his best friend's lips. “What did she say then?” “She didn’t. She was going to say something but she held back.” Avril took
Anger was still prevalent in Rhella’s heart. “How could he exchange me for that bitch?!” Her voice resonated in her little room, inside Maebh’s estate. “I didn’t.” A deep, familiar voice from behind her. Rhella remembered that she forgot to lock her door. “Who are you? What do you want?” Her voice radiates fear even when she tries to hide it. Especially in her current state that she cannot even summon an ember as magic had completely left her body, thanks to Leonardo Richards. ‘What if this is one of Maebh’s minions trying to kill me as I am now powerless?’ she thought.&nb
“Rozelyn…” He muttered her name as if it was a sacred word, a prayer. “Roz…” “You really think that—never mind!” She jerked her head back to Thalia’s house and saw Rosette and Aruba waving at her, the latter was holding an umbrella. “Hush you two! You’re both already soaked in the rain!” “We’re fine, Aruba,” Rozelyn simply said then walked towards the house, without any umbrella. “Love quarrel, eh?” Aruba teasingly utter. Cyrill just glared at her, then glanced back at Rozelyn. The latter was given a towel
“You didn’t know how happy I was when he was inside me, Roz,” said Rosette. “Yeah, I know.” Rozelyn’s sarcasm mode is turned on again. Rosette rolled her eyes, astonished to Rozelyn’s sudden shift in the mood. “Really? How much did I feel then?” She glared at her, eyes narrowing. “You’re very, very happy that you and your dear Leo have lasted for more than ten rounds.” “Rozelyn!” Thalia reprimanded. “It doesn’t mean you’re an adult, you’re allowed to be very green-minded!” “I’m not being a green-
“It was a pity for a person…” Rozelyn spoke, eyes fixed on the blazing body of Grainne Perkins, “…to die, while knowing that you did everything to live—including the fact that you exchange your freedom for immortality granted by the Blood Rose only to be murdered by a psychotic witch that, heaven knows, how the hell she did that.” Cyrill patted her back, “The Heathens are hiding something, a secret weapon I suppose.” “Grainne was a cancer patient, and had lived for a decade more thanks to the blood rose.” She wiped her face, and then fixed her hair. “Just like Rosette,” said Cyrill. “Yes. Just like Rosette Richards…” “You have done everything you cou
Roz was on the doorstep of Thalia’s home to visit Aruba when her phone rang. “Cy?” She breathed. “Roz, you have to come to the Fortress.” “Whe—” “Now!” Rozelyn wasted no time and headed back to her house. She immediately drove her newly bought car, thanks to Rosette’s gift. Speaking of Rosette, she saw her in one of the windows in the upstairs room of Thalia’s house when she turned around. “Rosette is probably sleeping in Thalia’s house—again.”&
“You’re finally home, Leo.” Leo jerked his head and he saw her.It was the woman he loved, he cared, he fucked, and he had been looking for. Yet, why is she here in the walls of his very home? “How did you enter here, Rosette?” She sauntered towards him, finger tracing his muscular chest. “If there’s a will, there’s a way.” He smirked. Sensing the hotness in the room, he removed his shirt. His sweat-drenched chest didn’t stop Rosette from tracing her fingers. His beloved’s hand landed atop his manhood and he knew then. He knew she was craving for more. “We just have sex earlier, Rosette. I am not surprised you are hungry for more.” Rosette’s face briefly
Cyrill’s heart was still beating fast even though he had already arrived at Vesta’s doorstep. When she called him on the phone, he sensed something was utterly wrong, something eerie; something that is going to happen unexpectedly. And Cyrill supposed it wasn’t a good one. “Vesta?” Cyrill then knocks three times, the perfect number when knocking. Not two or one, but three knocks. According to superstitions, when someone knocks once, it is doubtful if he or she is really a someone—a living person. When one knocks twice, it is said to be inviting a malevolent, unpleasant spirit within the house or building. Despite him being a Pasiphae werewolf, he still upholds and believes in superstitions. After all, there’s nothing wrong