Novel Candle Co 소설 & 이야기

A moment later, another little pool of warm glow flickered to life. Then another. And then Ember realized— Her nose twitched. No. No way. He lit more candles, three, four, five, each one releasing the same fragrance she used in her own apartment, amber resin, citrus rind and a hint of smoke. Her candle. Her scent. In his apartment. Ember blinked at him through the soft orange halo, “…Seriously?” Ghost straightened, candlelight painting gold across his cheekbones. “The power goes out on this floor a lot.”

Every corner of the wall has a designed candle as well. No wonder why they named this restaurant "Torch Warming Light Restaurant" because everything you see is a torch or candle. The table is covered with white clothes with extravagant plates on the table. There is a small candle in the middle that formed a heart. I smiled while looking at it. How romantic is this place? And the candles are all scented. I am not a fan of a candle nor places like this one but I just can't deny how it gives chills and a fluttering feeling to someone.

The scent is soothing, warm, made to ease the body into rest. “How do you never run out of these?” I say lightly. “I can’t even sleep properly because I don’t have one.” She takes the candle from my hand. “Are you having trouble sleeping because of the candle,” she says coolly, “or because of the drama you keep creating?” I look at her. “I heard the noise,” she adds. “Rowan was here, wasn’t he?” I slump and fall onto her bed. “He won’t let go, Cole. He’s refusing to accept it.”

Lillian found herself walking hand-in-hand with Nicholas through the square, marveling at how quickly Port Haven had become home. A vendor selling handmade candles called them over, insisting they take a moment to smell the fall-inspired scents. Laughing, they indulged, breathing in the fragrances of spiced apple, pumpkin, and pine. Lillian selected a small candle with a cinnamon scent, her favorite since childhood, and tucked it into her bag, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction from even the smallest pleasures.

Isabel’s POV I rubbed my temples, trying to shake off the lingering heaviness in my head. “I’m fine. Maybe it’s just grogginess from sleeping too long.” Emerson nodded, but kept studying me as if he wasn’t convinced. I decided to change the subject, if only to get his scrutinizing gaze off me. “The new scented candles are nice. Where did you buy them?" I asked, looking at Marianne. Her face lit up at the compliment. "Oh, I’m so glad you like them! They're handmade by my family. We’ve been making them for years, mostly for gifts and home use. But if you enjoy them, I could have them send more."

just for her. But he is not done charming her yet with gifts as inside the bigger bag that contains the boots is a smaller pink one from a candle company inside the mall. It contains a various assortment of small votive and tea light candles of all different colors. But the highlight of the bag is the three large pillar candles that he has attached a rose to with tape. There are two pink roses and one white rose, each with their stems neatly trimmed in half so they could fit more discreetly in the bag. "Well I guess you remembered my little candle fetish huh, baby," she says while carefully peeling the tape off.

The warmth of his skin burned my system, making me feel alive. “We're not riding your monster of a bike?” I asked when we began to walk. He shook his head and glanced at my direction. “It's just you and me tonight.” And that was enough to say that I was captivated by him. I barely know him yet he managed to sweep me off of my feet. We enjoyed the cool breeze of the night and the simple conversation we had along the way. Unlike the other two clubs I've been in the previous nights, this one was not loud and jampacked. The purple neon lights read Sphere and there was no long line of people waiting to have their turn inside. True to his words, we'll definitely have the night to ourselves.

We’re in the loft studio I sometimes rent for product shoots, and today’s subject is a sustainable candle company called Wax Poetic, run by an ex-theater couple who are currently arguing in the corner about whether rose and sage is a scent or a lifestyle. “You can’t tell me rose isn’t a grounding note,” the husband says, arms flailing like he’s mid-Hamlet. “You said that about patchouli last week!” his wife fires back. “We can’t ground every damn thing, Mark!” Sophia snorts quietly and I nearly lose it. “How did you get roped into this again?” she asks, fiddling with a stray fern I absolutely did not approve as set dressing. “They’re friends of friends,” I say, snapping a quick test shot and

It looked like I was in the Mummy Return movie going to find some mummies there. Could Zander Have A Mummy As His Lover There? Wow, Now I Have A Mummy Competitor. Anything Is Left That Idiot Did Not Stick His Dick Into? I wanted to go there but I could not find anything that could help me to see things. I forgot my phone in my room. I started going through a cabinet and came across a candle. This could work. I concentrated on the wick of the candle and thought about fire. The candle wick soon sparked into flame.

Really, it had all the trappings of a nice hotel room, with a vintage seaside charm. However, the bed, or the amenities of the little shack weren't what had me captivated. The room was filled with burning candles. They were in the windows, on every ledge and counter in the space. Tall pillar candles, tea candles, column candles, and candles in little jars. It smelled like sea salt and cologne, the way I was used to Rowan smelling. I breathed it in deeply.