Is Hour Of The Bees Worth Reading?

The Scions rule the world now. Born of celestial light, they turned on their creators and claimed the earth for themselves. But their victory came at a cost—every daughter of their kind has withered into dust, and extinction looms. So they hunt human women to survive. Anwen has always been fragile. Sickly. Ordinary. She was meant to be hidden away in a sanctuary, safe from the monsters who would claim her. Instead, she’s taken by three of the most feared shifters alive. A Dragon, cold and untouchable. A Lycan, lethal and always too close. A Minotaur, silent and watching—like she’s a puzzle he intends to solve. They expect her to die like the others. Another delicate human who won’t survive the bond. But Anwen doesn’t break. She burns. And the longer she remains in their fortress, the more their control begins to unravel. Their magic bends toward her. Their instincts sharpen. Their possessiveness turns feral. Others want her. Their High King demands her. But these three won’t give her up. Because the fragile human they stole? She might be the most dangerous creature in their world. And they’re done pretending she isn’t theirs.

After Pierce Emery and I got back together, I started "renting him out." Every time his old flame, Daphne Roach, called him away, I stopped crying and causing scenes like before. I charged by the hour instead. Ten grand an hour during the day. Twenty at night. Triple on holidays. Three months later, my account was up almost two million dollars. Pierce had promised to help me pick a dress for a banquet, but Daphne called him crying, saying she'd sliced her hand while cooking. I didn't even look up. I just held out my phone with the payment screen open. One night, I came down with a brutal fever. While Pierce was driving me to the hospital, his phone rang again. Daphne. He stared at the screen for a long second before answering. Her voice came through shaky and tearful. "Pierce, the thunder's so loud. I can't sleep. Can you come stay with me?" I quietly pulled out an umbrella and told him to let me out at the next intersection. He looked at me like he wanted to explain something, but I just smiled. "Don't forget to transfer the money." The same thing happened again on the day our daughter went in for her routine checkup. Except this time, she was the one asking him for money.

a really good book for you. I hope you like it becuase it tells you a good story. Please read it.

Abigail, a struggling writer, time-travels to 19th century France, landing in the lavender fields of Provence. There she meets Vincent, a solitary artist with a mysterious past. Together, they explore the land and inspire each other's work, leading to a passionate, yet doomed, affair. As the hourglass drains, Abigail must choose between her modern life or her love for Vincent in the past

Eliza Ward does not fall through time. Time bends toward her. Pulled from the present into Revolutionary America, Eliza becomes trapped in a landscape where history repeats unevenly, battles restart with variations, and memory functions as both anchor and weapon. She is not a chosen heroine, but a constant: a woman whose awareness destabilizes the moment itself. She meets Mercy Hale, a midwife and witch who understands time as a negotiation rather than a force to command. Mercy aids Eliza’s survival while refusing the role of savior, having already learned the cost of standing too close to history’s center. During a looping battle, Eliza saves Thomas Reed, a Continental soldier who does not shift when time does. Thomas is an anchor: steady, observant, unchanged across iterations. Their bond deepens in an almost-normal village where time briefly behaves. Eliza’s intervention triggers time’s response. Rather than immediate destruction, time collects interest. Mercy bargains to spare Eliza and Thomas, sacrificing her own future to stabilize the present. Time extracts payment from Eliza as well, stripping away her voice, the very tool she uses to name and hold moments in place. Silenced and unmoored, Eliza is violently displaced back into the original battle. Unable to anchor the moment, she watches Thomas die in the version of history that was always waiting beneath her defiance. Told in rotating perspectives between Eliza, Thomas, and Mercy, The Hours That Refused to Behave is a lyrical time-travel novel about revolution, restraint, and consequence, asking not whether history can be changed, but who pays when it is.

My mother's honey shop served only women, and she sold only one type of honey. The honey was contained in small glass jars, and it had an eerie name—Heart-Eroding Honey. Whenever women came to buy honey, my mother would personally lead them through the shop and into the mysterious beehive room in the backyard. Shortly after the door was closed, there would always be faint, suppressed moans coming from inside. I never knew whether it was from pain or satisfaction. However, when the women reemerged, they would all have rosy faces and radiant smiles, as if they had been completely nourished.