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Bella Bathurst
Bella Bathurst

Bella Bathurst is a British author born in 1969. Her works span across various fields such as history, travel, and nature, known for her unique perspective and vivid narrative style. more

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“My name is Jasmine Lewis, and this is my story. It’s a cautionary tale about money, sex, and power, but I guess those words are redundant. Money is always about sex and power. And sex is always about power. And why have power if you can’t have sex and money? But anyway, this is a story about money, sex, and power. This is the story of The Sugar Baby Club.”

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Book:The Sugar Baby Club
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“Pandora, who walked down the aisle of the estate chapel on Devon's arm, was radiantly beautiful in a dress of white silk, the billowing skirts so intricately gathered and draped that no lace or ornamental trim had been necessary. She wore a coronet of fresh daisies and a veil of sheer tulle and carried a small bouquet of roses and daisies. If West had any remaining doubts about St. Vincent's true feelings for his bride, they were forever banished as he saw the man's expression. St. Vincent stared at Pandora as if she were a miracle, his cool composure disrupted by a faint flush of emotion. When Pandora reached him and the veil was pushed back, St. Vincent broke with etiquette by leaning down to press a tender kiss on her forehead. "That part isn't 'til later," Pandora whispered to him, but it was loud enough that the people around them overheard, and a rustle of laughter swept through the crowd.”

WeddingPandora RavenelBride And GroomGabriel St VincentPandora And Gabriel
Book:Devil's Daughter
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“Danielle wore a simple bias-cut gown of the palest blush silk- one of her own designs- with white roses and jasmine braided into her thick auburn hair swept up from the nape of her neck, onto which she'd applied a new perfume she'd blended with a corresponding harmony just for the wedding. She carried the flowers of Bellerose: mimosa, rose, jasmine, violet, and orange blossom, twined into a voluptuous bouquet that spilled from her hand. Jon stood before her, his velvety brown eyes sparkling with flecks of gold. She drank in the delicious, virile smell of him, loving how the scent of his skin melded with the perfume she had blended for him for this day- blood orange and orange blossom, patchouli and sandalwood, cinnamon and clove. She had devised a salty note, too, and added the sea's airy freshness.”

FlowersOrangeWedding DressBride And GroomPerfumesWedding BouquetOrange Blossom
Book:Scent of Triumph
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“The overhead lights hit the Serch Bythol sculpture on the utmost tier, the sugar crystals shimmering and dancing like a cascade of diamonds. The planes of the cake beneath were clean and crisp, and the sugar-stained glass panels caught every light on the ceiling, throwing back shimmering rainbow rays. Sylvie was most proud of the silhouette that circled the middle stained-glass tiers--the skylines of London and Johnny's family estate in Lancashire. Only when viewed at close range did a second, hidden skyline emerge from within the reflective depths---the fantasy lands of I, Slayer, complete with a tiny, flying dragon. It was a work of art---and even now, she was taken aback by the level of harmony they had achieved, twinning together two very different styles. In honor of the union of two very different people, whose lives would hopefully interlock just as successfully.”

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Book:Battle Royal
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