Bloom & Prosper Candle Novels & Stories

"It's not a regular candle. It's soy-based and has a low-melting point, unlike the normal kitchen candles. It doesn't dry into hard wax, it turns to oil on your skin." Despite his explanation, I still swallowed hard and eyed the candle warily. I guess I wasn't only afraid of needles, I was also afraid of hot wax from candles. "Do you trust me?" He asked gently, as he touched my face. I nodded, but still.. I couldn't drag my eyes away from the candle in his hand. Seeing that I was very nervous, he went back to his kinky drawer and returned with a blindfold. "This will help calm your mind," he muttered as he placed the black fabric around my eyes, blinding me.

We’re in the loft studio I sometimes rent for product shoots, and today’s subject is a sustainable candle company called Wax Poetic, run by an ex-theater couple who are currently arguing in the corner about whether rose and sage is a scent or a lifestyle. “You can’t tell me rose isn’t a grounding note,” the husband says, arms flailing like he’s mid-Hamlet. “You said that about patchouli last week!” his wife fires back. “We can’t ground every damn thing, Mark!” Sophia snorts quietly and I nearly lose it. “How did you get roped into this again?” she asks, fiddling with a stray fern I absolutely did not approve as set dressing. “They’re friends of friends,” I say, snapping a quick test shot and

"Right? I mean, if I wanted to spend that much, it better make my room smell like a spa in Bali and come with a free vacation voucher." "Oh, totally. And look at this one." I reached for a candle labeled Morning Dew. "I bet it smells like grass after a rainstorm, but not in a good way." She leaned over, taking a whiff, and immediately recoiled. "Ugh, nailed it. Why is everything either citrus, sea salt, or vague concepts that make no sense?" I smirked, setting the candle back on the shelf. "Capitalism at its finest. Slap a fancy name on something basic, double the price, and convince people they're buying luxury."

When the water inundated the two of us, Blaze turned off the water in the bath tub. Now that we were soaking in warm water, I could feel Blaze's tense anatomy touching my back. Blaze picks up a pink and purple bath bomb, he throwed it in the warm water in the bath tub where we were soaking, making it... give off a lot of foam and the scent of lavender blossoms.

He really is a businessman. I shake my head in response. “No, the goal is to make the candles available to the people. Besides, I am using the average quality of ingredients. I use animal fat to make these candles. I would only use bees wax for commissions or for carved candles. The ingredients I use are available anywhere and there is no shortage for it. In fact, I can get it for free. So the price of 1 copper is justifiable.” Helio and Olivia were peacefully eating while watching the two of us exchange answers and questions. Whether they are enjoying it or even understanding it, I never knew. The exchange ended with Marcus convinced that my pricing was justified.

he answered honestly. Luis stroked his son's hair because was pleased to hear his answer. "And the name of this flower is Calendula when you grow up maybe you can find out for yourself all things related to the flower," he continued reassuring his son. Troye nodded again. "Then what is the purpose of you bringing me here? Does it have something to do with the Calendula flower?" he replied curiously, because still curious about his father's statement.

“This proposal has to be flawless. I want her to walk in and be blown away by the beauty and the thought that’s gone into this. Everything needs to be perfect, from the flowers to the lighting. This house has to feel like a dream, a place she’ll remember for the rest of her life.” I walked through the house, pointing out areas that needed special attention. “The living room needs to be cleared out completely. I want a path of rose petals leading from the front door all the way through to the backyard. We’ll have candles lining the path, but make sure they’re safe and won’t tip over. The last thing we need is a fire.” I glanced at one of the workers, who was holding a box of candles. “Choose

Flowers. I had told myself earlier I wanted to get Susanna flowers. A small gesture, She deserved beauty, not just battles. I pulled away from the secluded road, turning not towards the fastest route home, but towards the distant glow of the city lights. I spotted a small, brightly lit shop, its neon sign flickering: "Blossom & Bloom." It seemed almost miraculous. I parked and went inside. The chime above the door announced my arrival. The air inside was warm, humid, and thick with the scent of lilies and roses. An older woman with kind eyes and a headscarf looked up from behind a counter overflowing with vibrant arrangements. She seemed startled, then offered a tired but gentle smile.

she said curtly. “Outsiders!” Magnus scowled at the remark. “Why are you being so heartless?” He presented the jarful of paper cranes he had folded for her and even made a point of showing her his swollen fingertips. “I remember you mentioned that the best way to get your forgiveness was to fold a thousand pieces of paper cranes for you. “In the two months you have been gone, I feel numb every day. I was like a walking corpse. I can’t handle living without you by my side.

She held it out to Eloise, the flame steady between them. “Hold it,” she commanded softly, her voice carrying both authority and quiet urgency. “This is for my final prayer. Do not let it go out—no matter what you feel or see.” Eloise hesitated only for a heartbeat before obeying. She reached out with both hands and accepted the burning red candle, its warm wax smooth against her palms. The flame danced steadily at first, casting a soft, reassuring glow across her face. But as Mrs. Sola resumed her deep, rhythmic prayer—those ancient, guttural words rising like smoke—the candle began to change.