Vivacious Honey Novels & Stories

It didn’t take me long to find Honey. She was in a club in one of the shadier parts of Budapest, looking for her next snack. Surrounded by a bunch of duds with drinks, Honey was purring over all of them. I didn’t want to stay in her head because I was afraid she’d detect me and get skittish, so I immediately jumped to the guy she was currently talking to.

To be more precise, it is often after Owen has gone to visit Finn and his friends when I suddenly get this faint whiff of honey and my body suddenly craves eating it as heat rushes through my body. If this keeps up, the pack is going to have to buy honey by the truckload. I don’t think there has been a day over the past several weeks when I’ve come back to the pack house and haven’t savored at least one piece of honey toast. Most days, I have a piece of honey toast as soon as I get back to the pack house and then later on, around midnight, I find myself back in the kitchen eating more. Is it even healthy for me to be eating this much of it?

Sh emutters, and I hum, then reach for something else. …Honey. I drizzle it lightly over another slice of bread, and Vanessa watches me with mortified eyes. “Now,” I say, holding the honey bread up slightly, “This… is not how people usually eat bread,” I admit, and her nose wrinkles immediately. “Bread and honey?” She asks in alarm, and I raise a brow. “You don’t think it works?” “It’s… weird,” she admits, and I smile. “Is it wrong?” I push, and she hesitates.

“I can get something else—” “Just bring me fruit. Apple slices. And honey. And if the honey isn’t warm, don’t bother coming back.” Sara nodded quickly. “Yes, your majesty.” She muttered in a cutting way. “What?” Karissa replied, but Sara shook her head. “It’s nothing.” “That’s what I thought too.” After preparing the apples and honey exactly the way Karissa asked, she brought it in. Karissa took one look, tasted it with the tip of her tongue, and nodded slightly.

"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."