PREVIEW
Love, in its most majestic cruelty, possesses the power to shape destinies and destroy souls. It elevates the ordinary to the heroic and, in one shattering heartbeat, condemns the purest hearts to villainy. To hope for care and tenderness from those we adore is to unwrap a box lined with illusion,false reassurances, fleeting attachments, and heartbreaks that linger long after the last smile fades. Yet, hope is a tenacious thing,one that Ariel Smith clung to, with a devotion as unwavering as sunlight.
Ariel Smith—owner of a quiet bookshop on a windswept Californian street,stood five feet eight, her long black hair a midnight waterfall, hazel eyes alive with stories yet unwritten. She illuminated the lives of others simply by being present, dispensing kindness that asked for nothing in return. Her secret joy? Watching laughter bloom on strangers' faces, content in her role as a silent architect of happiness.
Arlo Johnson belonged to another world,a man of shadow and sinew, six feet two, with curly hair and a presence both magnetic and dangerous. Life, to Arlo, was a game of self-interest, with rules only he authored. Underneath the charm was a heart armored by secrets, his hands in ventures forbidden by law and conscience.
If Ariel was daylight gently breaking over a city, Arlo was the falling night: seductive, unexplored, treacherous. Their differences did not repel; they burned like opposing magnets drawn together by a force neither could articulate. For Arlo, Ariel's light was a revelation; for Ariel, Arlo's darkness was a crucible. She would illuminate his path, if only for a moment; he would teach her, painfully, that not all souls are worthy of redemption.
Set against California's restless pulse, Pleasing Rancor is a romance thriller that charts the fault lines of longing and regret, healing and harm. When love arrives at the wrong time, even the right person can become the villain of your story and sometimes the villain, the unlikely hero.
This is a tale of wounds that tell lies, of promises that dissolve, of happiness paid for in heartbreak. Have you ever known the ache of being despised by the one you love? The suffocating grip of misunderstanding from hands once gentle? In the end, fleeting joy and unending pain thread together the bittersweet tapestry that Ariel Smith calls Pleasing Rancor.
*THE CHAPTER STARTS*
There are days that slip by unnoticed, and then there are days that change your life forever. For Ariel Smith, this morning smelled of daffodils, nostalgia, and the quiet promise of something waiting just beyond the front door. Would that door open to a new ray of hope, or would it close off every path she'd been searching for? Only time could tell.
Ariel got ready for work as she usually did, though lately her outfits seemed a bit brighter, her morning coffee a little stronger. She had been busy with new stacks of novels, hoping the latest titles from trending authors might catch the eye of the Gen Z crowd,even if those books focused more on romance than on the rich details she loved. With her favorite coat and her "so-called nonchalant" coffee in hand, she stepped out and started her walk to the bookshop.
On the way, she spotted Oliver—a fifteen-year-old boy she'd known for years, always cheerful despite life's challenges, tending his little flower stand near the bakery.
"Oliver, shouldn't you be at school today? And where's your mom?" Ariel asked, picking out a fresh bouquet. She bought flowers from him every morning to brighten her shop.
Oliver looked up, a bit shy. "Mum's at home, sis. She's not feeling well."
Concern flickered across Ariel's face. "What's wrong with Julia?"
"She just has a mild fever, nothing to worry about. I thought I'd help her out today, so I skipped school," he replied, trying to sound grown-up.
Ariel smiled and gently patted Oliver's head. "You're a good son. Tell Julia I'll drop by after work."
She continued on her way, bouquet in hand, ready to face whatever this new day would bring.
Ariel reached the bookshop just as the city began to stir, sunlight spilling across the glass windows and casting a golden glow over the shelves. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, breathing in the familiar scent of old paper and fresh coffee. It was her little sanctuary.
She flicked on the lights, set her bouquet in a vase on the counter, and began her morning routine,dusting shelves, straightening stacks of new books, and letting the gentle strains of her favorite old melody fill the space. The song, all soft guitar and wistful lyrics, always made her think of love—its warmth, its longing, and its heartbreak.
With the music in the background, Ariel busied herself with the latest delivery. The covers were glossy and bright, titles promising tales of romance, adventure, and the thrill of first kisses. She arranged them in neat rows, making sure each one was perfectly visible for her customers. The scent of fresh paper mingled with daffodils and coffee in the air.
As she polished the front window, Ariel noticed an elderly woman outside, staring in with curious, gentle eyes. The lady seemed hesitant, her hands clutching a small purse, eyes flickering between the books and the sign above the door.
Ariel smiled and walked to the doorway, holding it open. "Good morning, ma'am! Please, come in. The shop is warm,and there's fresh coffee, if you'd like."
Embarrassed, the woman stepped inside, cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry for staring, dear. I haven't been in a bookstore in ages. Everything looked so lovely from out there."
Ariel's smile was reassuring. "No need to apologize! You're welcome to look around as long as you like. Let me know if you need any recommendations."
The lady wandered slowly through the aisles, fingers brushing over the covers, pausing every so often to read a title or admire a cover. Ariel brewed a pot of coffee, and the aromas seemed to relax her guest even more.
Eventually, the woman stopped at the counter. "My granddaughter's birthday is coming up. She's turning sixteen. I want to find her something special."
Ariel listened carefully, asking about Rose's interests,romance, mysteries, perhaps a story with a strong heroine. Together, they explored the shelves, chatting about books from their own youth and sharing quiet laughter.
After some thoughtful searching, the lady chose a novel beautifully wrapped in pastel colors,a story about love and courage, perfect for a young girl stepping into adulthood.
Ariel wrapped the book carefully, adding a ribbon and a handwritten note for Rose. "Here you go. I think she'll love this one."
The woman smiled, her eyes soft with gratitude. "Thank you, dear. You remind me of my granddaughter,always eager to help. And thank you for making me feel so welcome."
"It's my pleasure," Ariel replied sincerely. "And please, come back anytime."
As the lady left, clutching the gift and waving goodbye, the shop returned to its gentle hum, filled with the scent of daffodils and the lingering melody of love.
The morning faded into afternoon with a golden softness that made everything feel possible. Ariel checked her phone for the third time, heart skipping with excitement. Today's lunch was special,she'd be meeting her best friend Berry, more properly Beryl Blue, but nobody called her that except perhaps the occasional formal invitation. To Ariel, she was "Berry"—her partner-in-crime, her safe haven, and now, soon to be a bride.
Berry arrived at the bookshop punctually, her usual sparkle lighting up her face. She wore a pale yellow dress sprinkled with little white flowers, her curly hair pinned up with artful care.
Ariel hugged her tight. "This is it, Berry. The wedding dress hunt officially begins!"
Berry laughed, squeezing Ariel back. "You promise not to let me choose anything ridiculous?"
"I'll only approve the ones that make you look like you walked out of a fairy tale," Ariel teased, linking arms as they stepped out into the bright day.
They made their way to the nearest mall, chatting the whole way,Berry regaling Ariel with mishaps from wedding planning, Ariel offering a running commentary on every dress they saw in shop windows. In the first boutique, Berry tried on a classic lace gown. Ariel gasped.
"That is stunning, but maybe too traditional for you?" Ariel mused, walking around her friend to admire the intricate details.
Berry twirled. "Let's keep looking. I want something a little bolder. Maybe with blue accents,wedding tradition be damned."
They tried another shop, where Berry slipped into a sleek, modern dress with a daring neckline and a shimmering blue sash.
Ariel clapped her hands. "Berry, you look like a storybook princess. Your fiancé won't know what hit him."
Berry giggled, cheeks flushed. "Can you believe it's really happening?"
Ariel smiled softly, heart swelling with joy for her friend. "You deserve every bit of happiness, Berry."
After a whirlwind of laughter, selfies, and swishing fabrics, they left the boutiques feeling victorious,one dress standing out above the rest, chosen for its elegance and that hint of blue that felt so perfectly Berry.
Their stomachs finally reminded them it was lunchtime. They found a cozy cafe inside the mall, settling in by the window with sandwiches and iced tea. Ariel set the shopping bags beside her and leaned in.
"So, Mrs. Soon-To-Be—are you nervous?" Ariel asked, stirring her tea.
Berry grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Only about tripping on the aisle. But honestly? I'm just happy you're here with me."
Their conversation drifted from wedding plans to memories of their childhood,adventures in the park, shared secrets after dark, the way Berry had stuck by Ariel through every heartbreak and loss.
The afternoon sun glimmered through the window, catching the laughter between them and making it golden. It felt, for a while, like nothing could go wrong.
They were still basking in the glow of a successful dress hunt when Berry's phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, her features lighting up, then dimming just as quickly as she answered.
"Harry?" she said, her voice tender.
Ariel watched as Berry listened, her face flickering between happiness and worry. Berry's fingers twisted in the fabric of her shopping bag. After a moment, she let out a quiet sigh. "Italy? For work? But… the wedding's in a week."
She tried to keep her voice cheerful, but Ariel could hear the faint quiver. Berry nodded, forcing a little smile for Harry to hear. "No, I get it. You have to go. You promise you'll be back in time?" A pause,Harry's voice, softer but reassuring, drifted through the phone. "Okay. I trust you. Safe flight, love."
She hung up, face pale and a shadow of sadness in her eyes.
Ariel reached across the table, squeezing Berry's hand. "Hey,it'll be okay. He adores you, Berry! And he's coming back. Besides… now you have another story to tell at the wedding, right?"
Berry managed a small, grateful smile, the worry still lingering beneath. "It's just… we planned everything together, Ari. I wanted him here, you know?"
"Of course," Ariel said softly. "And if you need a distraction, nothing beats ice cream therapy. My treat."
Berry's laugh shimmered back to life, and together they wandered to a little ice cream kiosk in the mall. They chose their favorites—Berry had chocolate fudge ripple, Ariel went for strawberry with rainbow sprinkles. For a while, their worries melted along with the ice cream.
As the sun dipped low over the city, turning shop windows bronze, the girls headed back toward the bookstore. Ariel turned the sign to "Closed," tidied up the day's sales, and locked the door while Berry wiped the counter and arranged the bouquet Oliver had sold earlier.
"Come on," Ariel said, her voice playful. "Tonight is officially designated as Pajama Night. You, me, movies, popcorn, and the ugliest pajamas we own."
Berry grinned wide. "Deal. And we make a solemn pact,no talking about boys unless it's about how awesome we are."
They walked to Ariel's apartment, arms full of shopping bags and laughter, sharing old jokes and dreams only best friends understand. Inside, Ariel's little living room was transformed,blankets piled on the couch, bowls of buttery popcorn, mugs of hot cocoa, the air full of their favorite childhood songs.
They changed into pajamas,Berry wore faded blue ones with cartoon cats, Ariel opted for a pink set with tiny books stitched on the pockets. They danced, sang off-key, binge-watched silly rom-coms. Ariel painted Berry's nails pale yellow, and Berry braided Ariel's hair into wild plaits.
Between movies, Berry finally let her worries spill out. "Just sometimes, I wish things were simple. Like when we were kids and the biggest problem was which girl got to be the princess."
Ariel hugged her close. "Whatever happens, you're not alone. I'll always be here, Berry. And everything will be okay. Promise."
They talked and laughed until midnight,sharing stories, secrets, and snacks,until the city outside was silent and calm. In those gentle hours, friendship softened every shadow, and both girls knew, even in uncertain times, they'd always have each other.
Night had settled softly outside Ariel's window, the sounds of the city reduced to distant echoes. The apartment was dark except for the glow of a streetlamp that slanted across the couch, where Ariel and Berry slept in a jumble of pillows and blankets.
But as silence deepened, Ariel's breath quickened; she was trapped in the recurring nightmare that haunted her most vulnerable moments. In her dream, she was back in her parents' car—warm and safe, laughter bubbling in the air, a road winding through the countryside.
Suddenly, Ariel called out—she'd spotted a single wildflower, delicate and bright, growing in the brush. "Can we please stop, Mom? Just for a minute, I want to pick it!"
Her father smiled, slowed the car, and pulled to the side. Ariel scrambled out, racing toward the flower with the abandon of a child. The sun seemed brighter; the world, still. Just as she reached out and plucked the wildflower, a screech of tires shattered the silence—a deafening crash, twisted metal, glass, her parents' voices snatched away into the night.
Ariel tried to run back, her hands clutching the bruised petals, but she was too late. The car was destroyed, everything changed; the flower in her hand felt cold and heavy, as if her innocent wish had plucked away her parents' lives as well.
She woke with a sharp gasp, drenched in sweat, heart hammering. Her cry stirred Berry, who sat upright in her pajamas, concern etched across her face.
"Ari? Hey, it's just a dream—just a dream, sweetheart." Berry wrapped her arms around Ariel, holding her close as Ariel trembled, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"I dreamt it again, Berry," Ariel whispered, her voice raw. "The crash... and the flower. I always wonder—if I hadn't asked them to stop, would they still be here? Was it all my fault?"
Berry cupped Ariel's cheeks, speaking softly but firmly. "It's not your fault, Ariel. What happened was tragic, but it was not because of you. I know it hurts, I know it feels impossible to let go, but you were just a child who wanted a flower. You gave them joy every day."
Ariel sobbed quietly, and Berry stroked her hair, whispering reassurances until Ariel's shaking slowed. The room felt safer in Berry's gentle embrace, grief turning from overwhelming to bearable in the warmth of friendship.
Eventually, Ariel's breathing steadied. "Will it ever stop hurting?" she asked, voice barely audible.
Berry pressed her forehead to Ariel's. "Maybe not completely. But I'll be here. Always. We'll get through it together."
Outside, dawn began to color the sky, and inside, two friends held onto each other—finding comfort in the innocence that survived, even in the face of loss.