Booktok Candles Novels & Stories

He’s quite red and out of breath. "Well, please come on in," he moves over from the door and gestures into his room with a swoop of his hand. Giving him a weird look, and I walk into the room and gasp. His whole bedroom is lit up with candles. A soft orange glow basks the entire room with serenity as candles of all shapes and sizes burn with low lights. On the floors, there is a path formed by two lines of candles leading to Theon's spacious balcony, where a table is laid out for two on a pleasantly embroidered white tablecloth. Candles line the railing of the balcony, but unlike the ones in the room, those are electric to withstand the slight breeze that flows through the balcony.

“I couldn’t sleep… I was looking for a book.” With little choice, Sparkle walked into the room and took a quick look around. This room was gorgeous during the day, but at night, with flickering shadows floating around... it was purely amazing. Really, was there anything prettier than a firelight? When she shifted her gaze back to him, Sparkle realized the glow from the fire shining in his dark brown eyes was nearly hypnotic. Which was a silly thought to have, so she pushed it away fast. “Would you mind terribly if I borrow one of your books? TV is just so boring and…”

But when I held it, it felt surprisingly sturdy. Holding my breath, I opened the lid. Inside was a small bookmark, simple and beautiful, with a wolf made of pressed lilies—Canadian Lilies—pressed delicately onto it. The sight made something tighten in my chest, a strange mix of emotions swirling too fast to untangle. Beneath the bookmark was a small card. I pulled it out, flipping it over to read the message written there in Draven’s familiar, precise handwriting: Dinner at 7.

he teased. Ava’s heart raced as the telltale click of a lighter reached her ears. The aromatic scent of the candle reached her, bringing a calming sensation amid the growing anticipation. "I’ve always loved playing with candle wax, you know," Carver whispered, his breath caressing her ear, sending shivers down her spine. He let the candle burn for a moment, the soft glow illuminating the room, casting shadows that danced on the walls. The first drop of melted wax landed on her sensitive skin, and Ava gasped, her back arching in surprise. The warmth spread, fading to a gentle tingle.

' I ask Axel. 'Definitely unscented. It would only distract from the smell of the food.' 'Excellent point, good looking out as always, Axel,' I commend him. 'Always a pleasure, Chris,' he says while managing an awkward salute with his paw. I can’t help but laugh. Points for effort though. I grab some white candles from the kitchen drawer, place them in some candle holders – not silver ones – and set them on the table. I step back and smile at my presentation feeling very proud of myself.

She dropped a few drops of melted wax onto the plate and used it to secure the white, black, and purple candles in place. “Now they won’t move, and won’t drip wax onto the floor.” She waved her hand and I wanted to smack myself. “You think of everything Wendy.” Toya smiled wide at her and I could see a faint blush rise to her cheeks. Interesting. But I turned my mind back to the matter on hand. “Okay. Let’s start.” I lit the candles and used their flames to char some herbs. I ripped a few pieces of paper up and threw it into the bowl with the charred and burning herbs, lighting the pages. “Everything is in.”

But cross her, hurt someone she loves, and the toy poodle turns into Cerberus. “I’m going shopping later today,” she says, coming back behind the counter and pulling a notebook out of the drawer under the register so she can start making a list. “Shopping” is code for she’s traveling to another coven to purchase magical supplies. “Do you need anything?” “Black salt and mandrake root,” I tell her quietly, eyeing the couple who went right to the romance section. We’re the only independent bookstore in the area, and after the last big chain retailer went out of business, things really picked up for us.

Even while in the shop, it reminded her of old antique stores or junk stores except it smelled a lot like incense and it had different pots of herbs growing in the windowsills. The shop had everything, from carved candles which were the shop’s specialty and bestselling item, to a fully stocked apothecary with everything from mugwort to rosehips, an entire binder of custom oils and incense and a large selection of books. Behind a glass case in front of the cash register was a variety of tarot cards and silver occult jewelry, a shelf of statuettes of gods and goddesses of every ilk adorned one side of the shop and behind the front door, a small altar was tucked out of the way of customers’ fee

To his left was a sturdy metal camp-bed, a cooker and a set of camping pans. Brian walked to the bed and began to unpack his rucksack. His treasured blow-pipe and herbal tranquiliser he lovingly placed on the workbench. The rest of his supplies were tipped onto the bed and arranged onto the floor around the cooker. He had tried various ways of lighting the chamber from torches to camping lanterns. Finally he had settled on some large fat 'church' candles that had promised up to eighty hours of burning time. These also served to apply some heat to the chamber. He lit three of them. The cave seemed to spring to life as the candles flickered in the gentle breeze that came from the tunnel. The m

“Help me with the candles, Ash.” She pulls me up, leading me away from the bonfire towards the tent, where our bags are piled in a jumbled heap near the entrance. She crouches down to the sand and turns up the flame on an old gas lamp from the cabin (packed by the ever-thoughtful Elliot, of course) and unzips a bulky black beach bag, lifting a wide cardboard box out of it. She lifts the lid to reveal a chocolate cake on a silver platter. Nodding, she rips open a packet filled with white candles. They’re not the small, thin candles you’d usually stick in a birthday cake – but regular sized candles like you’d put in a candlestick.