And if yearning had a shape, it would look an awful lot like me. ▍ AN ORIGINAL STORY ╱ small town romance! Graceland, Georgia. A town where spotted cattle graze and home is always for certain. Where the girl crowned homecoming queen bleeds for the boy with old money veins and wandering eyes. That girl blossoms like she's expected to, bleeding heart and all, just to wither beneath the man oozing green and gold. It's too late to go back, but it's never too late to try again. Junia ( June ) Driscoll was homegrown royalty. Her small town notoriety was meant to carve out a pathway to her undoubted success. Her husband, her high school sweetheart, a star athlete, and successful investment banker, had given the girl all she could have imagined. However, the dream had since become a total nightmare. All that is shadowed is brought to light when she agrees to star in a segment disguised as a Mother's Day tribute on a popular talk program, in which her closest friend confesses to having an affair with her husband. Heart corrupted, she chooses not to be left alone in spite of herself. With her small daughter, Pearl, in tow, she forges a route back to the place where everything is comforted by love and lillies. There, she hopes to mend the pieces of her broken heart. Bit by nauseating bit. What she hadn't anticipated was to reconcile with an old friend turned brief flame clad in consolation whose heart had nearly bled him dry. Their shared gloom soon begins to fade, playing host to luminescence. And in that glimmer of light, of what was then, what was now, and of what was to come-that, was where eternity began to flow. ❪ f!oc & m!oc ❫ PEARLJARS © 2024 BOOK ONE of FOUR written by april COVER by the amazing @aastratta ❤︎

Strange house we must keep and fill. House that eats, and pleads, and kills. ▍ AN ORIGINAL STORY ╱ historical romantic melodrama! Cape Iris was swathed in lilacs and lilies. A small land of pure fragrance. A honey scene of air soft dandelion tuffs encased by a large pool of Himalayan salt and ivory sand beaches. The Chevaliers ruled that place. (The Chevaliers ruled the world.) Whispers were harsh, tones full of lead at the mention of the Chevaliers wealth. They were gold emblemed, star-studded, but there was something about them. Something the world raised their necks, clearing the ears, eager to know. What do you know about the Chevaliers? Nothing. No one knows a thing. Some said the father had multiple wives. Some said the mother had a lobotomy. Some said the son had a drug problem. Some said the daughter murdered the Lowry boy. But everyone talks. So does money. And the Chevalier's had a lot of it. But no one could pay Killian Alcott, esteemed writer, enough to keep his fingers off the typewriter and his prying eyes away from the Chevalier's that dreaded Summer of 1954. But there was one Chevalier in particular that left an impression. Call it a mark. A wound within flesh. A narrowed confession only spoken between two. And that single impression doomed the Chevalier name. Isn't that the best part of a story? The tragedy. ❪ m!oc & m!oc ❫ ❪ f!oc & m!oc ❫ 𓊝 written by april PEARLJARS © 2024

Fame is a poison most would drink happily despite the warning of a slow, and miserable death. ▍ AN ORIGINAL STORY ╱ romantic melodrama! ❪ multiple oc's ❫ written by april PEARLJARS © 2025