Romance
Entry 1
Oct 23rd, 1897. A rainy day. Dearest journal, Standing in a desolate cemetery with plantlife growing on tombstones and unmarked graves surrounding me, my day lacks moral and empathy. I have casted all my emotions into the dark pit of despair to leave only guilt and sadness to grow. I feel drained…and devoid of any positive emotions. All because of today. Today is the day of my beloved’s funeral and as I stand with her many family and friends, dread and loneliness cast over me. The thought of being in the world without my beloved is a thought I 'd never think I would have to face. While the sun settled behind her tombstone, I can’t seem to grasp my own pondering.
By Morgan Wright4 months ago in Chapters
Knotted Roots - Part 2. Top Story - September 2025.
My sweat-soaked and mud-stained shirt draped over Spot’s saddle, as Grace and I walked with our arms linked. The burnt amber glow behind the mountains quickly faded, and the starry night and full moon illuminated our dirt trail. For a few minutes, we walked silently, both of us keeping a curious eye on the sky, as if hoping this moment would never end. “You know, I don’t think I mentioned this before, but…” Grace hesitated, a small smile shadowed by the brim of her hat, which was pulled upwards as her eyes watched our boots. “It’s really nice having you back.” She stated, a slight hint of relief in her voice, peering upwards towards me to meet my eyes, as I looked over at her. Unable to really respond, I smiled at her as the stubble from my beard prickled my cheeks. I wish I were here because I truly wanted to be here, not out of remorse from a dying father. But what kind of son would I be if I allowed his legacy to die, to let him die alone? Ever since mom passed, he was always focused on the ranch. I grew weary of it all and wanted to experience life outside of this country lifestyle. Would Grace understand that? Should I tell her? Deciding to shake off the uneasiness, I decided to push that conversation off for another time. “Yeah, Grace, it’s good to be home.” Her eyes sparkled under the night sky, lulling me into her warmth. I placed my hand on her arm, as if assuring her. “Remember when we would run through the wildflowers?” She began, “You mean, chasing you for stealing my lasso?” With a shared moment of laughter she continued, “Okay, I may have borrowed…” “Borrowed? Is that what we call it now?” I teased. “Okay, first off, I at least know how to use a lasso!” Her snarky recoil caused a shift in me, a warmth in my center. The truth is, I missed Grace, but I didn’t miss the painful memories from losing my mom and now my ill father. “Second,” She continued, and her voice faded as I became consumed by her witty playfulness, the way her dimples revealed her bluff. “You think you can lasso better than me?!” I asked her, my voice low, husky. We came to a stop, my eyes challenging her, my smile welcoming. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were presenting a challenge.” Grace had moved in a way where we were facing each other, her voice low, alluring as her accent still thick. She leaned inwards and shifted upwards from her tiptoes. “You know I love a good competition.” The way her smile grew and the feeling of pure electricity between us intensified. Tucking a loose blonde curl behind Grace’s ear, I cupped her chin in my rough hand, her skin soft and radiant. “Jasper…” The breathlessness in her voice was being restrained by something, “Yes, my kitten…” My eyes darkened, my mouth dry. “I…” “Grace!” A male’s voice rang out, cutting the tension between us, a voice I didn’t recognize. My face, shadowed and hidden by my hat brim, hid my annoyance from Grace, a moment to adjust before she could see. “Who’s that little kitten?” Her head hung low and then upwards with a reassuring smile, one that was almost apologetic in a way, “That’s uh, well…” “There you are, Grace!” A lean, muscled man came running up, his jeans dark and clean, his boots without a scuff, his blonde wavy hair tucked behind his ears, a loose white button-down shirt tucked behind an oversized belt buckle. He swept by me, embracing her in his arms, spinning her around as her feet lifted from the ground. “I thought something had happened to you…” “Greg, I…I’m just fine, and I can stand on my own; you needn’t sweep me up like that.” Grace clamored with poise and elegance as she charmingly demanded to be put down. This Greg, whoever he was, doesn’t appear to be a cowboy; he’s too clean-cut, too polished. “Oh! I’m sorry, man, I was just so caught up seeing my little sunshine here, I lost my manners. The name’s Greg, Greg Combs.” He extended his hand, reluctantly, I shook his hand. It was like waving a limp noodle, as my firm hand squeezed his as if silently warning him. “Jasper Black.” My tone was sharp like a blade. “Well, Grace, it looks like you’ll find your way from here,” I said as I gave Spot a few pats. Tipping my hat to Grace respectfully, I walked off towards my porch, digging my hands in my pockets, not looking back. Of course she had a boyfriend; hell, he could be her husband for all I know! I don't want to ruin her any more than I already have. I realized as my boots thudded across the wooden porch, I left more than just my father that day. I left her.
By Sibley Shamra4 months ago in Chapters
Knotted Roots - Part 1
It was different here. Like I could smell the dirt, if Earth had a smell, it would be a mix of burnt wood and hearty protein. The breeze gently cooled me from a scorching summer sun. I was ready to call it a day, but I nearly finished installing the fence I promised my old man. My once white shirt, stained in mud and ripped from snagging on nails and splinters, useless. I removed my sweat drenched cowboy hat for a brief moment while I swiftly removed my shirt. My chest and stomach glistened from the sun. Checking my water source, I was running low, but since the job was almost done and I was desperate for relief from the heat, I poured the rest of my water over my limp, clingy hair. Swiping my hair back as I donned my hat again. Adjusting my work gloves as I bent down to grab the last few nails and hammer. I make quick work of the rest of the fence. Wiping my brow, blinking the burning sweat from my eyes, I felt the ground under my leather boots rumble. Steadying my breath, I breathe a calm breath. The wild horses must be running again. The wild mustangs have been running rampant lately. With a curious mind, I found myself in awe watching them sprint wildly, freely. Leaning on the fencepost, I finished in time to watch the sun setting behind the mountain ridgeline. “Your canvas is beautiful God.” I whispered aloud, taking in the way the burnt amber glow of the sky, the way the clouds hung low as if a visual of God’s very breath. I lost track of reality for a brief moment, until I heard the holler of an all too familiar voice. Grace was excitedly hollering as she rode bareback on a beautiful appaloosa horse she named Spot, a beautiful stallion she raised. We grew up together, her parents owned the ranch adjacent to ours. Grace had her hair in a loose braid, her white cowboy hat shading her emerald eyes. Grace gave a command to Spot who reared, leaving me a picturesque moment to behold as she became a heroic silhouette amidst the sunset. “My, my, Grace…you’ve really done it this time.” Chuckling to myself. I felt the strength as Spot cantered toward me, Grace confidently commanding his course. “What have we here?” Grace teased as she briskly dismounted from Spot. “Well, we have a finished fenceline.” “Well it’s about time Jasper!” Grace’s smile always seemed to have healing powers. “Well, as a reward, how about a ride back home?” “Well that’d be mighty generous of you, but I don’t want to go home just yet.” “Oh? But the sun’s nearly set. What could you possibly have to work on that’s so important right now?” Grace snickered, always admiring my work ethic. She knew I was here to save my father’s farm as he fell ill this past year. I take care of all the manual labor, while taking him to doctor appointments and driving to town to grab his medications. “Ah! Who says I was working?” I challenged, “Then what on earth do you plan on doing out here so late?” Her southern accent grew thick and illuminated her natural beauty. “Well you’re right, the sun’s setting, the breeze is picking up and we have a clear sky tonight. Thought I might walk the path back under the stars.” My voice hoarse, her eyes searched my soul while her smile never fades. “You’re welcome to join me, and Spot of course, if you’d like.” Grace shifted on her heels for a moment, and nodded. “I’d like that.” Grace glances over her shoulder, “What’dya say Spot?” Spot neighed and stomped as if saying yes. “Well that settles it.” I offered my arm to Grace who hooked her elbow around mine as we began the slow walk back to my dimly lit porch a few acres in the distance. Spot followed with silent obedience as if protective in case any lone wolves dared to enter the property.
By Sibley Shamra4 months ago in Chapters
The Witches Redemption
The days blurred into one another as Vivian wandered beyond the edges of the forest, her strange companion never straying far from her side. At first, she had thought of it only as an odd creature that had chosen to follow her, but the longer it stayed, the more it felt like a guardian sent by some forgotten magic. Its paws were silent on the earth, its eyes sharp as if they saw what she could not, and when she grew weary, it pressed close as though lending her its strength.
By Lyrria Honey4 months ago in Chapters
The Sparta Chronicles. AI-Generated.
The air, thick with the cloying sweetness of honeysuckle and the damp, earthy perfume of upturned soil, hummed with an almost imperceptible vibrato. For Pandora, it was meant to be a balm, a familiar embrace of a sun-drenched afternoon. Her loyal corgi, Sparta, a creature of boundless curiosity and a surprisingly sophisticated flair for the dramatic, was her shadow. The golden shafts of sunlight, usually a gentle caress, now seemed to pierce the verdant canopy with an alarming intensity, illuminating motes of dust dancing in a preternatural stillness. Sparta, usually content to follow her scent-marked path, began to vibrate with a low, guttural whine, his stubby tail a question mark against the vibrant green. Then, it happened. A ripple, almost imperceptible, disturbed the thick fur of his neck, and the worn, impossibly antique watch, a secret heirloom passed down through generations of his lineage, pulsed with a malevolent, internal light.
By Carolyn Patton4 months ago in Chapters
CH 3~ Building a New Life
Frannie woke on a couch in a parlor with Gerdie holding her hand; she didn’t recognize this new room but knew it must be the parlor in her new home. Where else could she be? It was comfortable, though not as large or richly appointed as her home here.
By K.B. Silver 4 months ago in Chapters
The Witches Redemption
As Vivian began racing to the forest to find even the slightest refuge, she found none.When she finally stopped, her legs trembled from exhaustion. She chose a hollow between twisted roots and gathered what wood she could find. Whispering a spell, she coaxed a small flame to life, the fire’s glow casting nervous shadows on the bark around her.
By Lyrria Honey4 months ago in Chapters
Ch 2~ Settling In
Frannie tried to listen as it was explained; she did, but everything after adoption was a bit of a blur. Smiling and nodding, holding herself together just long enough to get to her bedroom, as soon as Gerdie closed the doors behind her, Frannie finally broke down into bawling tears. It was all too much for her.
By K.B. Silver 4 months ago in Chapters
