Homeless Honey Bun Novels & Stories

She stays forty minutes and tells me the light in here is good and that I should put a shelf on the back wall, and she is right about the shelf, and there is a shelf there now. At the door she stops. "It suits you," she says. "This more than that." She does not specify what that is. She does not have to. The honey bread sells out at ten. Not the pastries. Not the sandwiches. The honey bread, which is my grandmother's recipe, unchanged, made from a card that has been in my wallet through Sean's house and Gloria's diner and a glass tower twice. I make forty loaves. They are gone in three hours.

Wondering what he was up to, I left the dishes and walked closer. Hogan got a large bowl and a mud pot above the cabinet. He opened the pot and poured the orange sticky liquid into the bowl. ‘Is that honey?’ “What are you going to do with honey?” I asked. Hogan raised his hand. “Give me your hands.” My hands? I looked at my hands before I slowly reached them out to Hogan. Suddenly, Hogan grabbed them and soaked them in a bowl of honey. “Ahhh,” I winced in pain. I shut one eye, bearing with the pain until I gradually became accustomed to it. Breathing heavily, I watched how Hogan kept my hands soaked with honey.

The retired couple, the Bennetts, moved into the lake house with quiet determination. Harold, a former accountant in his late sixties, saw the property as a peaceful place to spend their golden years. His wife Margaret, a retired librarian, fell in love with the lake views and the potential for a small garden. They unpacked slowly, filling the rooms with books and photos of their grown children. I watched from the shadows, my form bound to these walls, unable to step beyond the front porch no matter how I strained.

"I did it for the money. We had been broke and struggling all our lives. Suddenly I had a chance to make some real money. Honey talked me into it, she even took me into the club and had me watch while she danced. She was really good. "Then Bill offered us some coke and we took it. You weren't around me much in the early days, but I was a real party girl and the coke was nothing new to me. The stuff he had was almost pure and it wasn't long before I disconnected with reality. I came to my senses in bed with Bill. And Honey. He'd had sex with both of us. I screamed and ran out of the room. Honey got me into an empty room, calmed me down, and helped me shower. She had douches so we both used th

He told her he’d be her friend if she was open to that, and she was. “I shouldn’t be eating these, but I can’t help myself,” she mumbled between bites. “They’re addictive.” VIOLET shook her head with a grin. “You sound like some of the bear shifters that come in here desperate for a fix.” She stopped the second honey bun mid-way to her mouth. “A fix?” “For honey. You know, bears and honey.” VIOLET giggled.

He needs to back off and leave me the hell alone. I start Sally up again, turn on her air, and pull onto Cactus Road heading east to I-17 south. I then take Dunlap east to 7th Avenue, turn left and backtrack north to Hatcher. It's the quickest route. Terry the Fairy's office is off Hatcher on the side of a strip mall in Sunnyslope's Wendell Police District. It's how I know Terry. This is the district I worked. There are some decent areas in Sunnyslope, but it's mostly known for its eclectic crazies. I say eclectic because where else can you find a large community of homeless individuals with animal companions. Not just dogs either. Mama Kane has a goat and Cucumber Bill has a desert tortoise

Two months later, Dewy Honey Shop's business was only improving. More women kept coming in, and I became more and more proficient. Today, a new customer came in—a young girl no more than twenty years old. She timidly walked into the shop, her eyes red and swollen. She had clearly been crying. "Do you really have that kind of honey here?" She asked in a low voice. "What kind of honey?" I pretended not to know. "The kind... that makes men obedient. " She blushed. "My friend introduced me to this place."

He glance at Lucinda too, she was looking worriedly at her sister, and in Tems mind, he couldn't help but wonder what was going on between her and Lorenzo. Shouldn't she be hating him? After all, he raped her! “Fuck!” Tems cursed lowly, roughening his hair. *HONEY’s NEW–APARTMENT* In the one-room apartment, Honey was laying on her plush, lavender-colored bed, her body plunging into the comfortable mattress. Her fingers twisted absentmindedly through the tendrils of her long hair as she nestled her phone between her ear and her shoulder, enthralled in discussion with her father.

I laughed as I finished preparing the scones I was working on. “I will miss being here too. I have loved working here. Thank you for everything." Mrs. White had actually hired Bree to replace me. Bree had decided to move in with Audrey and Paxton since I was leaving. She had still been living at home with our parents and she was finally ready to move out. "Thank you for hiring Bree. I know she will be a great person for the job." I said to Mrs. White. She just smiled at me then went about the shop getting ready for it to open. I was going to miss this place, but I knew where my heart was and it was with Matto.

The trees were bare, their skeletal branches clawing at the sky, and the snow blanketing the earth made the place feel even more isolated. Home. The word felt foreign now, wrong. What was home without Riley in it? Five hours on the road had left my nerves raw. When I turned onto the secluded street and saw the cabin come into view, my chest tightened. “It’s… small,” Ronan said as he climbed out of the car, his voice hesitant. At least the weird tension between us had lessened a little. I killed the engine and got out, running a hand through my hair. “I wasn’t exactly expecting company,” I said, sarcasm lacing my tone even though I tried to hide it.