Booktok Candles Novels & Stories

They exist only in books. He must sense my apprehension as he closes the door behind me, startling me into a small jump as I dart to the nearest piece of furniture for a semi-shield. Briefly taking in a comfortable interior with rustic seating, a table, and a bed. It’s a one-room cabin with a fire already lit and candles on every surface. Strewn with home-made items, like wool blankets, hand-painted art, and pottery. It doesn’t look like the dwelling of a demonic.

According to Isabel, he was an avid reader and also frequently suffered from migraines. So for him, I prepared several handcrafted pressed-flower bookmarks along with a calming incense blend meant to ease headaches and improve sleep quality. “Thank you,” he said with a composed but warm smile. Then came Isabel herself. Her gift was essentially a little bit of everything. Since she had repeatedly complained about nearly running out of the previous batch I gave her, I simply took this opportunity to replenish whatever I could. The moment she opened the box, she immediately let out a delighted squeal.

“Is there a store I can order something from. Lamps. Anything.” “Not in this weather.” He reached under the counter and produced a small wooden box. Inside were three thick candles, the kind that came with their own glass holder, wrapped in ribbon. “These will do. Scented. For couples.” He held them out with the satisfaction of a man solving a problem efficiently. “You and your girlfriend will enjoy the night. It will be magical.” Amanda did not correct him. I watched her not correct him and felt something warm move through my chest that I decided not to examine too closely right then.

he glanced at me and He began arranging the candles dramatically. “I ordered them from an online store,” he said proudly. “I saw that they help set the mood for relaxation, so I’m trying to set the mood.” He gestured toward the candles like a man presenting a masterpiece. I forced a smile. “Very impressive.” “I know.” Adrian said looking entirely pleased with himself. The candles flickered gently around the room while the music continued playing quietly in the background. Almost annoyingly perfect. I watched him walk back toward the kitchen. A few moments later he returned carrying two wine glasses. One in each hand.

Her aunt gives her a small smile and nods, Celine finds the bookmark and opens to the page. The woven bookmark has a faded blue tassel and was made of woven threads depicting wolves running in a forest, at the bottom of the bookmark was an old wolf’s tooth with a hole drilled through to be able to tie it onto the bookmark. She puts it to one side to look at the page it had been marking. It looked much like many of the others she had seen flipping through. But its words had her feeling like her world was slipping through her fingers and she was unable to do anything to stop it.

Wax pooled at the base of the candle, cascading down the iron holder before being dried up by the wind coming from the open windows. Each drip marked the passage of minutes Micah did not acknowledge. Her gaze remained engrossed in the open page before her. Her long fingers holding the book with reverent steadiness. The candlelight gilded the sharp bridge of her nose, traced the curve of her cheekbone, and rested beneath her eyes, eyes that did not wander away from the book she was so absorbed in. She turned a page, a smooth glide. Her lips remained immobile; the only thing that moved was her pair of hazel-brown doe eyes under those thick, long lashes.

While focused on staining the bookcase, she lost all track of time and had no idea what he was really up to. Chris had completely transformed the room. Candles lit in numerous holders and containers throughout the room flickered, and a roaring fire beckoned her with its warmth. The white bulbs of string lights dipped along the mantel, the glow romantic and soft. With the sofa pushed back, Chris spread several blankets across the wooden floors with a bank of pillows lined against the furniture. Several bottles of

The glow from the candles flickered off the polished chrome of the vibrator I held like a loaded weapon—warm, pulsing, ready. The scent of sandalwood curled through the room, mingling with the thick anticipation bleeding into my skin. The soft leather cuffs, the vibrating wand, the nipple clamps with the delicate pink-gold chain—I laid them all out like a sensual ritual.

Another card: "For relaxation." Noon brought aromatherapy candles, each one hand-poured in crystal vessels that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent. The scents were carefully chosen – chamomile, vanilla, sandalwood. A third card: "For peace of mind." I stood in the middle of my bedroom, surrounded by Kyle's latest attempts at... what? Apology? Compensation? Control wrapped in cashmere and silk? "Mrs. Branson?" Mrs. Chen appeared in the doorway, her arms full of yet another package. "This just arrived. Shall I—"

Another card: "For relaxation." Noon brought aromatherapy candles, each one hand-poured in crystal vessels that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent. The scents were carefully chosen – chamomile, vanilla, sandalwood. A third card: "For peace of mind." I stood in the middle of my bedroom, surrounded by Kyle's latest attempts at... what? Apology? Compensation? Control wrapped in cashmere and silk? "Mrs. Branson?" Mrs. Chen appeared in the doorway, her arms full of yet another package. "This just arrived. Shall I—"