Rose's Descent: An Urban Fairytale

By Tigris Eden

I am the definition of insanity. Doing the same exact effing thing over and over again and expecting shit to change. 

Plagued by visions and voices, Rose knows one thing: she doesn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. So, in a last-ditch effort to hold on to reality, she settles into a psych ward. Unfortunately, those she meets promise her things they don’t exactly deliver, and despite being the girl with the plan, nothing seems to be going her way.

Surrounded by betrayal and lies makes it hard to discern reality from make-believe. With no one to trust but herself, Rose must rely on the one person she's never been able to...herself. 

Immerse yourself into the fragile mind of Rose Hunter, sister to Snow White. An urban fairytale filled with twists and turns, and with a touch of madness. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kats Kreative Ideas
• Release date: Aug 6, 2019

Tigris Eden

USA Today Bestselling Author, Tigris is a military brat who's done her fair share of traveling, thanks to her Army father. She's married to the infamous LL and has three boys. She currently resides in Houston and is actively seeking a book-buddy for the end of the world. You can find Tigris on Twitter, Facebook, and at her website. Twitter: @Tigris_Eden Facebook: www.facebook.com/TigrisEdenAuthor/ Website: www.tigriseden.com

Book preview

Rose’s Descent

An Urban Fairytale

Tigris Eden

Contents

Synopsis

Foreword

Untitled

Introduction

1. The Beginning of My End: The White Snake Tavern

2. Demons

3. The Arrangement

4. The First Time

5. Tall Tales

6. Inside My Own Mind

7. Halls Of Regret

8. The Hall Of Memories

9. The Ugly Truth

10. Past And Present Collide

11. The Beginning Of The End

12. Rose

One Chapter Closes, and Another One Opens.

The End

About the Author

Praise for the Shadow Unit Series

Praise for Arctic Bound

Diamond

Diamond Preface

Diamond Prologue

1. Diamond Excerpt

2. Diamond Excerpt

3. Diamond Excerpt

Other Titles by Tigris Eden

Rose’s Descent © 2019 Tigris Eden

Copyright notice: All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

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To you who really sees me as I am. Regardless of the good and the bad times, it has been you who has stayed by my side. Thank you.

Synopsis

I am the definition of insanity. Doing the same exact effing thing over and over again and expecting shit to change.

Plagued by visions and voices, Rose knows one thing: she doesn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. So, in a last-ditch effort to hold on to reality, she settles into a psych ward. Unfortunately, those she meets promise her things they don’t exactly deliver, and despite being the girl with the plan, nothing seems to be going her way.

Surrounded by betrayal and lies makes it hard to discern reality from make-believe. With no one to trust but herself, Rose must rely on the one person she's never been able to...herself.

Immerse yourself in the fragile mind of Rose Hunter, sister to Snow White. An urban fairytale filled with twists and turns and just a touch of madness.

Foreword

by Chelle Olson

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Rose. A special child who had no idea who she was. Not really. From the moment she was born, she knew she was different, but until life started to unravel, she didn’t fully understand how different. Now, with a past full of mistakes and a future unclear, Rose must try to wrangle the threads of her life and determine what’s real and what’s fantasy. Unfortunately, that’s not easy when everyone she thinks she can trust turns out to have an agenda. Things not in her best interests. But she’s a fighter. She’s always been a fighter. It’s one of the things she’s really good at. And she’s going to fight for her life. Whatever it takes. And gods help anyone who tries to get in her way.

I think a lot of us can relate to this. We fight every single day—to be happy, to stay Zen, to bring some light into each other’s lives, to overcome obstacles. But life doesn’t always play fair, and those things can beat you down. But the most important thing to remember: Get up! When you get knocked down, get back up. Every. Single. Time. Put energy into your passions. Rid yourself of toxic people and things. And maybe, most importantly…love yourself. Because, you know what? You’re worth it!

And so is Rose. And she’ll figure that out. Eventually. Want to know how? Delve into the dark and beautiful world of Rose’s Descent, bloomed from the creative genius that is Tigris Eden’s delightful imagination.

And if you like this, stay tuned for my and Tigris’s co-authored project, another dark fairytale with a whimsical feel, Ellys in Faeryland, coming just as soon as we can get it to you while still giving you our other flights of fancy.

And remember, always get up. Keep fighting. And believe that you’re worth it—crazy and all.

— Chelle Olson (aka Rayvn Salvador, aka Chelle Eden, aka M.L Olson)

When you don’t have the love of your mother, you’re left with no other choice but to take love and all it entails into your own hands. Even if it isn’t the right kind of love. Even when, really, you should focus on loving yourself. ~Rose

Deals…

Ah, this will make for a good one, says the owner of the golden quill as he begins tallying up his agreements.

Deals struck, contracts signed, he keeps the book close to his chest. No one thinks to check the one place there is a hole—his heart. He keeps them all there, locked away, never to become exposed. They are more attracted to his golden pen than they are aware of the actual verbiage they’re agreeing to. But once the pen touches its target, the need takes over, ensuring the holder of said pen agrees. His pen comes in many shapes and sizes, a trick of the eye. Some sign by voice alone, while others wield the pen, giving away their hopes and dreams with broad strokes of the soul.

Looking over the list, he comes across a few that are near and dear to his heart. Things promised, and interests gained. The pen feeds his needs, and he, in turn, feeds the pen. It’s symbiotic. His next target is an easy mark. She suffers from pain unrealized. It’s hardened her heart and replaced her loss with self-loathing. She wants a cure to what ails her, and the pen knows exactly what she needs.

He watches and waits, pen in hand, his proposal well thought out. But first, he wants her story.

Introduction

Beginnings

From the moment I took my first breath, I’ve been unwanted. A discarded thing that no one took pity on. My mother didn’t love me, and my father knew nothing of me. At least, that’s what I tell myself. I could be wrong. Maybe he does know of me, and it has been his actions that have created my miserable existence of a life. It’s possible that my mother had no choice. Perhaps she would have gladly taken me into her arms, fed me from her breast, given me the life-giving sustenance due all newborns. But I doubt it. That type of life just isn’t in the cards for me.

Back then, I was kept behind a glass window, and somehow, even in my state of newness, I understood my circumstances. From an early age, I could remember people commenting on my uncanny ability to be self-aware. Even now, I can easily recall things, as well as read people. Maybe it’s my gaze. Too direct. I’m blunt in most things, jagged in others. I never lie. I usually see no reason to. So, on the day of my adoption, I remember looking the woman in the face and giving her real facts.

No one here wants me, and I suspect neither do you. So, why go through with this adoption? I ask the woman whose name I still hadn’t been given. She is tall and pasty with black hair and confused eyes. I say confused because one is brown and the other is blue. But her aim is true. I am her target.

To this day, I still don’t understand why.

My daughter seeks a companion, and what better confidante than a sister?

You are to be my mother then? I say bluntly.

The woman nods her head, and I don’t miss the slight frown in her brows. She doesn’t want me. But I’m her only choice. I must be, why else would she choose me?

Yes, but you don’t have to call me Mother if you don’t want to. You can call me Ms. White.

I test out the words. Ms. White?

Yes, that’s right. She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

It never reaches her eyes. And it never will, not when it comes to me.

The day I left with Ms. White is a day I’ll never forget. It’s also the day I met my adoptive sister, Snow White.

1

The Beginning of My End: The White Snake Tavern

Rose

Twenty years later. Rose, twenty-five years old.

Hunter is late again. I look down at the note scrawled in his chicken scratch and then glance at the sign above the bar. This is the address. The tavern is a place where people come to share their secrets. To exchange information. Hunter has a new assignment for me. I’m moving up in the ranks, no longer a recruit. I’m two promotions away from being an officer--and just in time. My cravings for blood are starting to get worse. Bloodlust. Who knew watching the blood of another flow could be so satisfying? It’s a constant need. Like a junkie and their next fix. Life isn’t right unless I see the spilling of blood.

What are you drinking? the seedy barkeep asks. There’s hardly any light in this place. Nothing but dark corners and shadows. It reminds me of an old noir film. No color, only greys and black.

Like your soul. There’s that voice again. Mother. She keeps taunting me. Although, calling her Mom is a bit of a stretch. Like fifty football fields worth. I ignore it and put in my order.

I’ll take a Golden Apple.

That’s top-shelf.

I lean across the bar, making sure the man knows I’m not someone he wants to mess with and snarl. I said, I’ll take a Golden Apple. I slap a large bill on the counter. He doesn’t have to be asked twice. He quickly goes and starts making my drink. But the look on his face tells me that while he wants my money, he doesn’t like that I can afford it.

Haven’t seen you in here before, a smooth voice rumbles next to my ear. Too bad his breath smells like stale alcohol and cigarettes. His aftershave of choice seems to be Five Days Without a Shower and Counting. I want to laugh, but I’m afraid I’ll pull in more of his stench if I do. So, I lean away from him.

That’s because you haven’t seen me before.

I see you now.

Frustrated by his attention, I turn to face him. "Do I have a sign on my head that says, willing to talk to douchebags?"

It takes him a moment to realize I’ve insulted him. His face morphs into an angry scowl. His left hand goes to his back pocket, while his right hand reaches out to grip my wrist in a tight hold. Men always underestimate me. They see the long, brown hair and the big, brown eyes and think I’m someone who can’t fend for themselves. I can tell this prick feels entitled. My lip twitches at his evident annoyance. This should be fun. I’m not small, but I’m not tall either. My black leather boots are thigh-high. I don’t wear them because they’re cute. They serve a purpose. I tried wearing regular boots once and found that when there’s a large amount of bloodshed, getting your pants soaked can prove bothersome.

I still have my pants, but now they’re leather. I’ve learned these last few months how to improvise. My gear currently consists of brown leathers with black stitching on the sides, and black, thigh-high boots. The outside is leather, but the insides are made from the finest Egyptian cotton. Comfort is my biggest concern. My heels are flat, which comes in handy when I need to scale a building or two. Tonight, a black leather vest covers a black tank top. My daggers are situated in the inner lining of the vest. I’ve stowed two more in my boots, and another pair is holstered to the outside of my hips. I also keep two pistols on me.

I’m curvy, but I’m also built. Most men don’t even notice the bulge of my guns until it’s too late. Like this fool. He still hasn’t caught on to the fact that I’m the predator and he’s the prey.

You might want to remove your hand from my person, sir.

I tried to be nice, but you’re acting like a bitch.

True, but in what world does that give you the right to put hands on me?

The man looks even more confused by my choice of words. His hand’s been there too long. I’m starting to feel dirty just from being in his presence.

I’ll say it again. I haven’t seen you around here before.

The fogginess in his eyes clears and is replaced by an intelligence that wasn’t there before. I’m not some woman that needs rescuing. I can take care of myself. His grip on my wrist tightens. It isn’t painful, and I don’t think he means it to be. At least, not yet.

Fish, she’s just here for a drink, man. Leave her alone, a female voice says from somewhere behind me.

Shut your mouth, Stony. This isn’t your concern.

Everything that happens in this place is my concern. You know that. Now, back off before I go and get Ant.

Fuck you, Stony, Fish