Kali Belladonna Lemon Novels & Stories

"We’re literally risking our lives for weeds." Caroline snorted, crouching to examine a cluster of mushrooms growing at the base of an oak tree. "They’re not weeds, idiot," she shot back, her fingers brushing over the caps with practiced care. "This is Belladonna. One bite, and you’re hallucinating demons for days." Charlie paled. "Great. So if I accidentally eat one, I’ll finally see the nightmares that live in my head?" "You already do that sober," I muttered, plucking a sprig of thyme and tossing it into my basket. "But seriously, we need to move faster. Alden’s not joking about the sundown deadline."

Lisha smirked, “If you don't want my magic, I will put it back where it came from.” The smell of rotten eggs rose from the ground; I knew it was sulfur coming from the earth's core; a dark-haired woman stepped in between Lisha and Allana and placed her hand on Lisa's shoulder as she said, “Enough stop this nonsense.” Lisha smirked, “AAhh Belladonna, it's about time you arrived.” Belladonna narrowed her eyes at Lisha, then pointed at Allana and hissed, “You would risk destroying everything to rid yourself of her.”

“They were afraid that we’d take the girl away to be sold. That’s what Orion…Deimos did to their children if he wasn’t pleased with them.” “Where did she even get the Belladonna?” Deacon asks. “You don’t have any in your herb garden?” “Yes, but not that much. I don’t use it a lot.” Belladonna, in minute dosages, has some healing properties. I always expressed my fears about having it on the property, but Deacon grows it in a greenhouse that he keeps locked and he’s the only one with a key. “Check your garden anyway, make sure no one went in there.”

In front of her sat an ancient, terracotta pot containing a lush, dark green plant with dull purple, bell-shaped flowers and glossy black berries that looked like polished obsidian. "Do you know what this is, Mr. Rossi?" Isabella asked. Her voice was a soft, velvety purr that seemed to blend into the gentle patter of condensation dripping from the glass ceiling. "Belladonna," Dante replied flatly, his predatory eyes scanning the rows of hanging ferns and dense foliage behind her, checking for blind spots. "Deadly nightshade. Atropa belladonna, if you prefer the Latin. It’s an odd choice for a hobby, Miss Valeriano."

She recognized the small box, Donald’s errand boy (Alejandro) had brought it yesterday. Jairo opened it and pressed the bottle to her lips. She gulped greedily, finishing every drop. She sighed softly. The water felt refreshing… too refreshing. When he pulled the bottle away, he smiled like he already won. “It’s called Belladonna Negra.” Eloise stared at him, confused. “What?”

“I’m just...not good with knots.” “Everything likes you, Loralie,” I said. “Even things with a body count.” Professor Thorne moved between tables, pausing occasionally to scowl or sigh. She reached my station and stopped. The belladonna was thriving, its petals rich and purple, leaves relaxed and swaying. “You’ve handled this before,” she said. “My mother made me grow one before she let me have a cat.” Her lips twitched. Approval? Or indigestion? Without a word, she reached into her robes and pulled out a small obsidian pot. Inside was a rare variant of belladonna—violet-black petals, roots coiled protectively in the soil like a sleeping serpent.

Rumi who had heard Miss Rowena's orders was waiting there. "You're so lucky," she said, grinning. "I don't know, I'm surprised myself," Bella replied, reaching for a silver plate and a cup from the same set. "I have to go before Miss Rowena calls," she said. "Wait!" Rumi grabbed Bella's hand. She took something out of her pocket. "Let me wring your eyes first with this." Rumi opened the lid of a small object shaped like lipstick. However, when the lid is opened, the object's cream stalk is jet black. Bella immediately knew that it was an eyeliner, eye lining tools to make your eyes look beautiful. Not having time to argue, Bella is already rendered helpless when Rumi's adept hands daubed the

The sun hangs low, casting amber light across the water, and the lake glitters like it’s holding secrets just beneath the surface. We find a spot beneath an old tree with thick, gnarled roots and settle onto the soft grass. Lila opens the box with a flourish and hands me a fork like she’s presenting a royal treasure. “Blackberry lemon,” she says. “Tastes like mischief and regret.” I laugh. “Perfect.” The first bite is sweet, tart, and soft on my tongue. I let the flavor linger, staring out at the still water. Lila lies back, arms tucked behind her head, and watches the clouds drift.

So I'll take any opportunity I get to tell him. "And about that mark," she continues. "Have you tried Aloe Vera gel and lemons with tiny moss?" Lemons, yes. Aloe and moss, no fucking way I'm not putting those on my neck, especially moss." "It's not bad Sebastian. The aloe gel should help with the stinging from the lemon, and also help with the healing and changing the color back. The moss helps too. Using only lemons will not solve the problem. "Ok fine, I'll get them from the supermarket."

Just then, my phone rang before I could light into Mancini. “Lyon, I’m returning your call.” “Track, where are you guys? What’s up?” “We’re in the desert.” “What fucking desert?” “Sahara.” “What dafuq! What are you doing there?” “We came to pick up a plant for the girls.” “What plant?” My eye started twitching. “Calotropis Procera.” “Cali, who what? What dafuq does she want with that?” “I’m not sure, but I’m almost certain it’s illegal in the US, but since we’re on the island….”