Dragon Honey Novels & Stories

But he had chosen to leave, to disappear, and to hide in the shadows while I ate his food and read his words and tried to make sense of a man I did not understand. I picked up the bread and tore off a piece, and the warmth of it spread through my fingers and into my chest. I dipped it in the honey and put it in my mouth, and the sweetness filled my tongue, and I closed my eyes and tried to remember the last time I had eaten something that tasted like this. The honey was rich and golden, with a floral undertone that reminded me of summer, of flowers, and of warmth that had nothing to do with fire.

She rubbed her hands together and opened the first box. Inside lay a dozen pigeon-egg-sized crimson crystals. The moment the lid lifted, a warm wave of heat chased away the chill in the air. “These are firemelt crystals, Blackrock specialty. They work way better than a brazier. And look at this!” She opened the second box. Inside were delicate honey pastries, their sweet aroma filling the lobby. “These are the most famous honey cakes in the south district. I waited in line for hours to get them. Try one?”

I stopped at the door. She did not see me. She went on. "He kept bees," she said. "Did I tell you that? In the back of the founder house, behind the herb garden. Three hives. He tended them himself — he said it was the only work that required complete patience and rewarded you for it. He was not a patient man in the rest of his life. He was very patient with the bees." She paused. "He made honey for the bread. Your grandmother's bread recipe. The honey went in the second rise. When you're older your grandmother is going to teach you to make it, and the honey will come from the market because the hives are gone, but he put honey in it first and it tastes the same."

"Is it not?" "Honey is deceptively complicated." She says it with the face she makes about things she knows deeply. The focused serious one. "The floral notes change everything downstream. You can't just add honey and expect it to behave." "Tell me." She looks at me. "You don't need a lecture on honey." "I want one." "Dominic." "Emma." I lean back. "Tell me about honey."

Because it had been Saturday morning and he had texted at seven and I had said I was going to the market and he had said he'd come and that had been the whole of the arrangement. He carried the bag. I made the decisions. This was the natural division that had established itself without discussion, which was how the best arrangements established themselves. We were at the honey stall. Not the lavender honey producer from the Hudson Valley. The local beekeeper who had been at this market since before I had been coming to it, a woman named June who kept hives in four boroughs and had strong opinions about what the different neighborhoods did to the flavor of her honey. "Brooklyn honey tastes li

"Hana, honey tastes like lotus flowers." Hearing Zeci says Hana didn't want to punish it, Zeci's favorite was lotus nectar. It was willing to fight With Mr. Hartix only to steal his favorite lotus bile, though Hana later paid him the money. However, whenever he saw Hana, he seemed to abhor and locked the warehouse door carefully. He didn't know, Zeci had dug dozens of tunnels into the warehouse in Hartix's pub, which is why every day when he lost his honey wine, he always scolded Hana. Sometimes Zeci doesn't take it. In return, Hartix gave Hana food after each time she was hit by Eric.

But he had chosen to leave, to disappear, to hide in the shadows while I ate his food and read his words and tried to make sense of a man I did not understand. I picked up the bread and tore off a piece, and the warmth of it spread through my fingers and into my chest. I dipped it in the honey and put it in my mouth, and the sweetness filled my tongue, and I closed my eyes and tried to remember the last time I had eaten something that tasted like this. The honey was rich and golden, with a floral undertone that reminded me of summer, of flowers, and of warmth that had nothing to do with fire.

Dewy yellow chunks were poured on the table like a miniature golden hill. The honey trader hesitated. He was pondering whether or not to sell his products to Leila among all of the curious people craning their necks to glance at her. But he couldn’t possibly resist the lure of the silver dragon coin in Leila’s hand. Joyfully, she held an armful of honey candy and walked back to the inn.

Lorez seems to notice this and speaks up, “She smells delightful doesn’t she? I researched that your kind are attracted to the scent of melody bee honey from the land of Rashan. I had some imported a few week ago in anticipation.” The man has certainly been busy. I don’t like that he knows such a facts about vampires, but thankfully that is not a fact toward me. The honey is nothing but an enjoyment for me, so at least he won’t have an advantage with the knowledge. I need to be more wary of what he might know though.

"Heart-Eroding Honey is made by extracting the soul essence of the greediest and most corrupt men, brewed in the beehive using a special, secret method. When they were alive, they exploited others to the fullest. After they die, we transform their desires into the most powerful temptations. Their bodies will become eternal honey sources until they are completely drained dry." She pointed toward one of the honey sources that was twisting violently. Within that blurry humanoid mass, a face of extreme pain suddenly became clear. It was the husband of that wealthy lady I had seen! He was notoriously famous for his greed when he was alive, but now, he was silently roaring in the beehive, his faci