Sugar: A Novel Novels & Stories

A single strand of her hair flickered back to silver for a fraction of a second. "Sofia, remember the sugar!" Nomo gasped, his lungs burning. "Remember the taste of the stolen sugar on the roof of the vats! You said it was the only thing in this city that didn't taste like metal! Don't let her turn you into a machine! Be a thief again! Steal your life back!" (SOFIA QUISPE’S POINT OF VIEW) "The sugar..." The words didn't come from Sofia’s mouth; they echoed inside the violet storm of her consciousness.

He just needs to be in the room the instant he is called and the moment the man is finished with him, he will just leave without a word. Ben can’t ask for more. He will soon be graduating and he has an ample amount saved from the contract which will end on his graduation day. He became a sugar baby, a tag that he is trying his best to hide even from hid friends, and he is fortunate enough that the man he is with is treating him right. He will soon achieve what he has worked hard for and will bury this past until his death. Exhaustion took over his whole being and he slept comfortably without even washing.

he winked. Back in my apartment, there was no peace of mind. I was thinking. So many things were on my mind, ranging from the unhappy divorce to my little cupcake. Johnny was the little cupcake I thought about. Although the pain from divorce hunted me, there was always a glimpse of a smile on my face whenever I remember Johnny and the subtle naughty things we did earlier in the day. I couldn't just wait to set my eyes on him again when he comes around the next day.

Indri cursed, barely avoiding spraying juice out of her nose due to Chelsea's outburst. Chelsea's eyes rolled lazily. "You're the one who's damn, you started it. You just casually suggest that I become a sugar baby." She sighed in frustration. Indri, who had come up with the crazy idea, looked at her friend. It was impossible for Chelsea to become a sugar baby for her mother's lover. Where would she even put her face? If anyone found out that she was involved with a man nearly the same age as her father, she would surely become the subject of ridicule.

My family was still buried under hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt, but I had a kindhearted, foolish mother, and a father, who had walked through death's door and emerged just as resilient and forgiving as before. I also had a wealthy creditor with a sharp tongue and an impossibly soft heart. Life was messy, but as long as we kept holding on to one another, somehow, even this damn life had started to taste a little sweet.

With Aurora, however, kissing felt different, awakening a newfound craving within him. Now, he knew he couldn't resist indefinitely. The desire for Aurora consumed him, and he craved more of her. Her essence was like sugar, a taste that lingers and entices, no matter how many times one has it. He yearned to savor her repeatedly, unable to quench his insatiable thirst for her presence.

I like pure because that's where I enjoy milk. Now I looked for the sugar and there were three containers there that looked the same. First I took the one closest to me and smelled it but I couldn't smell anything, but its texture was different because it wasn't refined like sugar. It's like Betsin. So I put it back and covered it. I followed the second one and smelled it. I can't quite predict the smell. It's refined so I tasted it first and winced because it was salty. It's salt. I followed the third one and smelled him. I immediately inhaled the sweet smell that was familiar to me. I smiled. It's just too much sugar to make it harder to search. And I'm sure about the smell because I memor

They looked so alive, as though dew had been caught in mid-air and frozen into bloom. “Too hot,” Laurent said, raising a finger, “and it burns. Too cold, and it shatters. Sugar is the art of precision. The art of patience. And,” his gaze swept over them, sharp as a knife, “the art of courage.” His demonstration was nothing short of mesmerizing. He poured molten sugar like glass onto marble, folding and stretching until it gleamed. With steady hands, he teased strands into golden threads, rolled and twisted them into petals. When he held up the finished rose, it seemed impossibly delicate.

Unsought, she found her gaze returning to the leather binding, over and over again. She wondered if the enslaved vampire was real—and okay. If she could help him. A few times, she even opened to the middle of the book before she realised she’d moved. She always darted off before the tale could lure her. And maybe that’s why the ridiculous thing was given to her. To hook her, to send her racing back to work. Well, she didn’t need to work. Money was not a problem for her. More than that, she no longer loved the sciences. Why would she? There was never an explanation, only more difficulties. Because when one puzzle piece wobbled into place, there were always twenty more needed. And in the end,

He just needs to be in the room the instant he was called and the moment the man finished with him, he will just leave without a word. Beam can't ask for more. He will soon be graduating and he has ample amount saved from the contract which will end on his graduation day. He became a sugar baby, a tag that he is trying his best to hide even from his friends but he is still fortunate enough that the man he is with is treating him right. He will soon achieve what he has worked hard for and he will bury this past until his death. Exhaustion took over his whole being and he slept comfortably without even washing.