Aromatic Flesh Novels & Stories

"The dark vintage. From the southern valleys. It has a metallic undertone that pairs well with the richness of fresh meat. We’ll need enough for the whole pack to toast." Elara pulled away from the vent, her hand clamped over her mouth to stifle a scream. Sweetbreads. She knew what that meant. In the village, sweetbreads were the internal organs—the thymus or the pancreas of a calf. He was going to serve her heart and her organs to the pack. He was going to wash her down with dark wine. She looked around the room, her eyes landing on the silver-handled brush on the vanity. It wasn't a weapon, but the handle was heavy, solid. She grabbed it, feeling the cold weight. It wasn't silver—it was ju

“Good. I thought by now I’d be solid black like my father.” “Have you noticed that his aura looks wrong? It’s not just the colour…it’s as if, as if…” I couldn’t quite find the words for what I was trying to say. “It reminds me of a gangrenous wound,” Troy said. “The green-black rot of dying flesh.” “Yes!” I exclaimed. “And he smells like it too.” I gagged a little when I remembered seeing myself running into that rotten man’s arms and kissing him. “That is why I’m sure I’ll never go to him. Imagine…kissing that.”

At first, I thought it was just my ears ringing from the battle, but then I saw it. One of the dead rogues, the one closest to me, started to smoke. Not burn—smoke. Thick wisps of gray, almost bluish vapor began to rise from its fur, and I staggered back instinctively, watching in horror as its skin began to shrivel and curl, peeling back like parchment caught in flame. The fur disintegrated in tufts, vanishing into nothing. Flesh sloughed off the bones in sickening clumps, melting into the soil beneath it like candle wax left too long in the heat.

Death. The stench of it lingered, suffocating the air around me. It wasn't just the rusty tang of blood; it was something sweeter, heavier, that clung to the back of my throat. I inhaled deeply, my pulse quickening with the scent. My claws dug into the damp soil, the grit grinding against my paw pads. Beneath me, something warm and soft shifted-flesh. My sharp nails caught, tearing. A shudder rippled through me, part ecstasy, part horror.

“That's not how you talk about my cooking. He frowned. “That's not what I meant. It smells like an animal in heat. “It's probably just my mother's friend Cynthia. She does tarot readings at a store downtown and they burn all kinds of incense. The scent follows her like a cloud. She would be the type of woman who would wear a perfume called Eau de Wolf . Oh, that reminds me. ’ As the pasta boiled, I dragged the huge book Derek had given me from my backpack by the door and held it out to him. “My friend Derek gave me this. He's a mythology student and I think he can help me make a case to discredit Ruth...

His razor-sharp teeth tore the flesh and chewed the muscle, his body growing plump as he feasted on her guilt. She screamed and tried to get away. But she couldn’t move. The angry Nameless Dead drew near, a pile three hundred thousand deep worming her way in a line four miles long. At the end of the hall, Madame’s skeleton carefully stood. In the dusty red light, Lucky could see the flesh grow. Pale and white, it slithered from the bone and snapped around her limbs, reaching up to her neck and the smooth of her skull. The kimono fell and rose as the darkness pumped fetid air into her dry lungs. Fingers stretched. The head circled on the neck. Hands rose to find the black wig with the high bu

The way she flinched everytime it hit her skin was an unparalleled torture. The smell of her burnt flesh seeped into the nostrils of the younger ones. However, they couldn't turn their heads behind. Once the smell crept into Tarah's airways, she got even more determined to break free off Purple Smoke's grasp. She was moving hard in a way that Purple Smoke would accidentally let her go. She was kicking everywhere in the air. Her hands worked hard to open the fingers on her neck that seemed to have been locked automatically when it took a hold of it. But all of it didn't work on Purple Smoke; she didn't even flinch at how Tarah wiggled herself in the air and her fingers were as hard as iron.

His dark shirt made his neck appear even paler, giving him this incredibly sexy but untouchable vibe. Any other woman would have blushed at this sight or found him deliciously attractive. But Aria only saw the faint blue veins on his neck. For some reason, she felt an uncontrollable thirst rising in her throat. Once again, Aria caught a glimpse of his divine form. Beyond the countless karmic bindings encircling him, he was radiating layers of golden light with an indescribable fragrance. He seemed to exude an aura that whispered, "I taste wonderful."

It was the sweetest smell in his world, the thick warm honey aroma mixed in with the earthy scent of a woman in heat. With a growl, Demetri sank his fangs into Mara's soft flesh, pulling hard to drink down her life's essence. Her blood was so thick and rich, pulsing with the vibrancy of life. He wanted to sink his body into hers, to pound away until she screamed with pleasure.

Talk about ego. I sat down there watching him cook. Damn, he is as hot as hell. I was smitten watching his hands flex. He worked confidently and precisely. "Done," he said, carrying the plates to the table. pulled off the apron and sat down bare-chested to eat. He sure has a hot body, If he was trying to seduce me, he was indeed doing a great job. His six packs seemed more defined than last time. "Mind out of the gutter," I said, shaking my head.