First, it was Cyrill who was framed for a murder. Then Rozelyn.
‘What’s going on in this world? Why do people keep blaming other people for the heinous crime of their own?!’
These were the words she thought as she was being escorted towards outside the police station by Milah.
Milah is Ezra’s wife and an Irish detective who graduated at the University of Dublin. Truly, when you have a family member who’s proficient in dealing with the law and taking legal actions, you can achieve justice and make yourself innocent—whether you’re truly innocent or just pretending to be one.
“Are you okay, dear?” Milah asked her as she looked quivering even from a distance.
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“What happened in Surrey, Dorrien?” Dorrien could only listen to his alpha’s voice. He couldn’t move or open his mouth or perhaps even blink his eye. ‘What have those heathens done to me?!’ He conversed with himself, asked himself rather. He could see the frustration in Avril’s face—the disappointment, the worry, and the fury that were all painted on his beautiful face. He couldn’t stare or glare; his eyes were open but more like blankly gazing to nowhere. The faces of the two ladies in Surrey flashed back in his mind. Their faces—her face. The face that he tru
Leonardo had vowed to know if Nyra’s new pet was his Rosette or not. But he didn’t manage to know the answer for years, decades, or perhaps centuries—he didn’t know as he lost track of time. Leonardo tried to search for his Rosette, letting the oceans of time and seas of sorrow just pass by. If only he could pour all his power so that he may locate his Rosette in a snap of a finger, he shall do it. But his sister, the Heathen Queen Rhella, forbade him and wouldn’t teach him that secret magic. So, he manually and physically looked for his Rosette everytime the sun rose and the moon awoke. “Let’s have our supper at Ezra’s Diner, Leo!” The voice of his mortal friend who was driving the cab was the one who drifted h
Rosette tried to breathe—reminding herself that she was still alive, that she was an immortal. The encounter earlier made her entire body stiff and covered in redness. Rosette was wholly shamefaced and…guilty. She had managed to choose over her own happiness than their—her and Leo’s—domestic felicity. Rosette exhaled and inhaled; repeating it until she managed to think and speak and move properly. ‘Damn it!’ She shrieked in the walls of her mind. At least, she had managed to see him once; at least for a second, at least for a minute.&
Eku Mazari Zadzisai always knew that the Blood Rose myth is true. Gone are the nights he kept on wishing under the starry sky. Gone are the days he kept on praying to whatever god, goddess, spirit, or supernatural force that exists in this realm with a match of a Palo Santo incense or sage whatsoever. Myths do have a basis of reality, or at least inspired from one. He glanced at his bedridden wife, Visenna, who was pregnant with their child and is due a few months’ time. Yet, according to the doctors, only one of them will be able to see the sunlight for the next ten years or so. But Eku loved both of his girls&md
Rosette found Rozelyn sitting in the living room, drinking an orange juice. She looks cozy, calm, and as if she hasn't just been interrogated at the police station. “Care to join me for dinner?” The Thaumaturge then smiled at her. “I just had one.” She put down her juice and vanished in thin air. Rosette looked around, looking wholly nervous and worried. “Some things that you’d been looking for are just behind your back all along.” Rosette whipped her head to the back, to where Rozelyn was standing and gri
Dorrien heard Avril call the old woman ‘Thalia’. Thalia. Such a youthful name for a woman who already had several silver strands of hair amidst its gleaming onyx color. “Ms. Thalia Turner, isn’t it?” Avril asked the old woman. “Yes, Mr. Arke. And it is my pleasure to meet you,” she greeted while extending a hand to the Irish Alpha. “And to you, Mister—” “Dorrien Ronan. His name is Dorrien Ronan, a Shapeshifter Werewolf.” It was Avril who introduced him. “Ah, a Shapeshift
It had been two days since Samhain. Still, Avril Arke and Anaztasia Arryn didn’t ceased taking chances for a kiss, sex, or both to one another. “We should find out why Romaine isn’t there,” Anaztasia said as she parted her lips first from Avril’s. “She only said she’d be late on Samhain since she has an important thing to do. I did not think she wouldn’t attend our most important festival at all,” Avril replied as he gasped for breath then leaned to Anaztasia for more of her lips. “So do I,” she said as he was about to kiss. He halted. “
“What is your kind again?” “Winnowers,” Laara replied while accepting the pudding that Rozelyn gave. “Which means?” Rozelyn continued squeezing for answers. “Folks of the Wind.” It was Thalia Turner who answered. The rest nodded in discernment. But Rozelyn Zadzisai was hungry for more answers, curious for what else the folks of her nanny could do. Yet, she couldn’t pass through any of their mental defenses. It seems they have an amulet of sorts. ‘A Thaumaturge has limitations then…
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