Flowers Fiction

In a quiet village surrounded by ancient woods and the imposing Italian Alps, a man is found naked with his eyes gouged out. It is the first in a string of gruesome murders. Superintendent Teresa Battaglia, a detective with a background in criminal profiling, is called to investigate. Battaglia is in her mid-60s, her rank and expertise hard-won from decades of battling for respect in the male-dominated Italian police force. Soon she finds that buried deep in these mountains are whispers of a dark and dangerous history, possibly tied to a group of eight-year-old children.

After her family suffers a tragedy, nine-year-old Alice Hart is forced to leave her idyllic seaside home. She is taken in by her grandmother, June, a flower farmer who raises Alice on the language of Australian native flowers, a way to say the things that are too hard to speak. Under the watchful eye of June and the women who run the farm, Alice settles, but grows up increasingly frustrated by how little she knows of her family’s story.

Life is the teacher. Death is the lesson. An undying cultivator is the result. Su Fang’s path of cultivation is a journey of countless deaths. As each new life pulls back the veil that covers the Nine Rivers Continent, he discovers both hidden truths and the chains that bind him.

At birth, Violet and Rose Flowers were identical, save for a tiny bluish-purple mark gracing Violet’s slender neck. By nineteen, their temperaments distinguish them, as different as the flowers their mother named them for—Violet, wild and outgoing, and Rose, solitary and reserved. Still, they are each other’s world. Then, on a sweltering, terrible August night in 1928, an explosion rocks Lamb’s Dance Hall in Possum Flats, Missouri, engulfing it in flames, leaving one twin among the dozens dead, and her sister’s life forever changed.

I'm Aria Delgado, and this is my story. Ten years ago, my fiancé betrayed me in the worst way—he chose my sister. I swore I'd never set foot on Longhorn Ranch again. But now, I don't have a choice. My father is gone, the family ranch is on the verge of collapse, and half of it belongs to me, the other half to my sister, and she can't sell it fast enough. I won't let that happen. My ancestral home is more than dirt and fences—it's my legacy. But the odds are stacked against me. The debts are too high, and someone is trying to drive me out of my land.

Dr. Allison Hall is staring down the prospect of her first Christmas in a new town and her first without her son, who is spending the holiday with her ex. As the new doc on the block, she's on duty for the Christmas shift and glad of it. When one of her favorite patients lands back in the hospital, and it looks like this might be his last Christmas, she hopes she can help connect him to his estranged daughter. Dante Price thinks Allison should mind her own business. He's a nurse - and admittedly a bit of a Christmas Scrooge.

He's a duke. He's a mathematical genius. He can't talk and he's locked in a lunatic asylum. Only a modest Quaker girl can reach him, but when she helps him to escape, she's swept into his glittering aristocratic world, her life torn apart by his desperate attempt to save himself.

THE NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER “A mesmerizing new historical novel” (O, The Oprah Magazine) from Lisa See, the bestselling author of The Tea Girl of Hummingbird Lane, about female friendship and devastating family secrets on a small Korean island. Mi-ja and Young-sook, two girls living on the...

Fiona Clayburn is one lucky girl. Not only does she have a job she loves, working with fine art at Gallery Roche, but she's also managed to catch the eye of one of the most desired bachelors around—Giles, son of the Earl of Bancroft—and they're madly in love. Well, that's what everyone thinks, anyway. Little do they know it's all but a ruse to help the pair achieve their individual dreams and goals. After all, Fiona couldn't have possibly melted the Icy Scion's heart...right?

Little is known about the origin of The Basket of Flowers, except that it is translated from the French by someone known only as J.H. St. A. The value of this excellent volume lies in its content, which is thoroughly God-honoring and scriptural.

Today is the day that I, Luciano Fjorborn, First Paladin of Berella, go out into Yurnip County to push back the forces of darkness with a few vigorous thrusts of my mighty lance! Who’s Berella? Why, she’s the goddess of love, tenderness, and hot rumpy-pumpy, of course! As her loyal servant, it is my mission to go out of my cloister and show the world Berella’s divine love. Repeatedly. And in multiple positions! But it’s a cruel world out there, especially for a Paladin who doesn’t believe in violence.

A mesmerizing, moving, and elegantly written debut novel, The Language of Flowers beautifully weaves past and present, creating a vivid portrait of an unforgettable woman whose gift for flowers helps her change the lives of others even as she struggles to overcome her own troubled past. The...

This is the better-than-ever sequel to My Secret Garden, the first time in print that American women told their most honest sexual fantasies without apology or shame. Daring, explicit, and straight from the heart, Nancy Friday got thousands of women to tell her what they'd never confided to their best friends, lovers, or husbands - every secret that women didn't know they could say out loud. A brilliant cast brings to life women from every walk of life and region to tell women's erotic life as it really is.

Da Mad Dok Grotsnik, creator of Ghazghkull Thraka, is a painboy beyond legend. What – and who – he harbours in his formidable brain is a mystery to every ork but himself, and an army of orderlies provides him with a constant supply of flesh with which to tinker. When Grotsnik comes to the aid of Beastboss Bakmun, whose rampage on Hive Prome teeters on the brink of going out not with a Waaagh! but with a whimper, Bakmun can't believe his luck.

""I'm Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent. I can't be celibate. Everyone knows that."" Desperate to escape her scheming relatives, Evangeline Jenner has sought the help of the most infamous scoundrel in London. A marriage of convenience is the only solution. No one would have ever paired the shy...

When her last two plays are dismal failures and her relationship with her temperamental mentor falls apart, writer Bree O’Brien abandons Chicago and the regional theater where she hoped to make a name for herself to return home. Opening Flowers on Main promises to bring her a new challenge and a new kind of fulfillment. But not all is peaceful and serene in Chesapeake Shores, with her estranged mother on the scene and her ex-lover on the warpath.

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan is a brilliantly realistic journey back to an era of Chinese history that is as deeply moving as it is sorrowful. With the period detail and deep resonance of Memoirs of a Geisha, this lyrical and emotionally charged novel delves into one of the most mysterious of...

I've lived in the mud quarter my entire life, watching as the fireguards came every five years to select the prettiest girls to go to the Seat to start new lives. They get it all: husbands, houses without a speck of dirt, and enough food that hunger wasn't a constant pain in your belly. This year, it's my turn. The dragon that forces our kingdom to cower under our magnificent dome and hide behind stone walls hasn't shown any signs of leaving.

With the Lonely Death spreading and a rebellion ignited within the kingdom of Desia, Lea finally knows the truth. At least—she thinks she does. But the revelation of Gray's identity is only the beginning. Guided by an ancient prophecy, Lea embarks on a quest to harness the power of the moonflowers and save the lives of her people, but this power will not come without a cost. Lea must confront her innermost demons, reopening old wounds in order to fulfill the prophecy and end the reign of the wicked Black King.

It’s not in my nature to beg, but I’ll stay on my knees until I feel that flame sputter out. And then … I’ll rip the world to shreds. I’ve tumbled into a darkness so deep it’s hard to see the light, my petals curling inward as I tip my face from the sun. Hide from my monstrous actions. Traitor. Murderer. High Mistress. My mistakes hunt me down, and I’m pulled into a political tug-of-war, balancing Ocruth’s welfare on the edge of a bloody blade. The moon is swelling, the weight on my shoulders is compacting, and my unfailing curiosity keeps weaving its roots in the wrong direction.