Preview: Honey Lust-Whisper To Me
Honey Lust: Whisper To Me
Do you ever get the feeling that you became the heroine of your own story? Well, this was what happened in my story.
My name is Corabella, Corabella Diamonique Anderson, and I’m a bookstore employee. I’m a bibliophile who thrives on coffee and pastries when I’m not taking online classes for my MA in creative writing. I work at a bookstore on Sundays-Fridays, work at a coffeehouse (I’m a barista) and also volunteer at the public library on Saturdays; I’m never without a 2-in-1 tablet, paperbacks, pens, notebooks, a messenger bag, and purse because I take them wherever I go; I’d like to read and write on my lunch breaks.
On my days off, I have a blue sleeveless t-shirt I’d like to wear that says “Boys In Books Are Better”; the main reason I’ve been wearing that shirt often was because I had just broken up with with a guy I’ve dated for a year and a half named Alvin.
Alvin was an ESPN-watching, sports bar frequenting type of guy; we once went on a road trip together to a college football game. He’s usually a sociable fun guy when there’s alcohol involved, he described himself as a social drinker. Last year, I had accompanied him to his job’s Christmas party so he didn’t want to be bored; there he had a little too much to drink by way of adding some alcohol to the punch bowl. With the liquid courage in effect, he then told all his co-workers of how I’m a boring bookworm, how mad he was that he didn’t get promoted at his job, and he wanted to fight the person who got the promotion. I clapped back at him and told him good luck getting his license and car back because he was about to lose his job, which he did. He’s lucky he didn’t know about the true crime books I read, the ones with female killers that have bumped off their husbands or boyfriends whether they deserved it or not; I secretly thought about taking out an accidental death insurance policy out on him being that he’s a drunk, but I had a reasonable yet less deadly idea after taking a few calm deep breaths by dropping him off at the nearby rehabilitation center and never looking back. It was my own way of telling Alvin that it’s over.
After my breakup, I began reading into self-help books, ranging from finance to sexual well-being; I mainly focused on my online classes and my two full-time jobs. Many times, I think that men in books do it better when it comes to romance and pleasure, especially in romance novels; I mean at least they don’t break your heart, hurt you in any way, or make you feel lonely. In my spare time, I like to write erotic romance short stories that have a mix of sensuality and sexuality where the main female character feels wanted and desired.
One Saturday night after a busy day at both the public library and the coffeehouse, I came home to my two-story townhouse in the midtown area and changed into my loungewear. I wrote a story on my computer while I relaxed in my “Boys In Books Do It Better” t-shirt. I’ve written several erotic romance short stories and put them on my WordPress page; there’s one story I wrote involving a young woman who escapes to an enchanted forest in her dreams where she meets with a lavender long-haired prince and has these romantic trysts, he also satisfies her way better than her real-life boyfriend. I’ve been using my breakup as inspiration for a series of short stories I’ve been writing for a while; I created the male character based on Alvin except I made him into a Fantasy Football addict with a gambling problem and the female character inspired by me who reads romance novels and fantasizes about the men on the book covers. Like me, the main female character in my series of stories uses books to escape the reality of her relationship.
On Saturday, I was at work at the coffeehouse because it’s very busy on weekends and the smell of coffee makes my day a lot easier. I had to fill in for one of the cashiers, who was in the hospital for a non-work-related injury, in addition to my barista shift. I’d often see this one particular guy who would come in at night. I got a look at him a few times; he was tall with sun-kissed skin, dark hair, almond-shaped eyes, and sometimes wear glasses (though I swear he has 20/20 vision or had LASIK eye surgery). He’d sometimes order either a tall cold brew or a venti dark roast, often bringing his own coffee cup.
That Saturday night, I saw him and took his order while I lowkey flirted with him. I got to know his name, which was Joon Hwan. I filled his cup with hot coffee, handed it to him, and said in a whisper “Have a good night, Joon Hwan.”
“Thanks, you too Corabella.” He said with a smile as he walked out with his coffee.
Joon Hwan was so handsome, I swore he gave me Asian Ryan Gosling vibes. I thought about flirting with him again and also making the first move. After work, I went home, showered, and slipped into something a little more comfortable. I thought about Joon Hwan while I wrote my stories onto my computer and read a book titled Find Your Inner Sex Goddess.
The following Saturday, I saw Joon Hwan again at the coffeehouse and he ordered a tall espresso. He wore a black jacket with a white button-down shirt, black jeans and shoes, along with a pair of glasses that complimented his almond-shaped eyes.
“So what are you are doing tonight?” I asked as I gave him his coffee.
“I had a busy day today and I’m going out to dinner. There’s this new Korean restaurant that just opened in town.” He said.
“I’ve never had Korean food before, I’m thinking of trying something new food-wise.” I replied.
Do you ever get the feeling that you became the heroine of your own story? Well, this was what happened in my story.
My name is Corabella, Corabella Diamonique Anderson, and I’m a bookstore employee. I’m a bibliophile who thrives on coffee and pastries when I’m not taking online classes for my MA in creative writing. I work at a bookstore on Sundays-Fridays, work at a coffeehouse (I’m a barista) and also volunteer at the public library on Saturdays; I’m never without a 2-in-1 tablet, paperbacks, pens, notebooks, a messenger bag, and purse because I take them wherever I go; I’d like to read and write on my lunch breaks.
On my days off, I have a blue sleeveless t-shirt I’d like to wear that says “Boys In Books Are Better”; the main reason I’ve been wearing that shirt often was because I had just broken up with with a guy I’ve dated for a year and a half named Alvin.
Alvin was an ESPN-watching, sports bar frequenting type of guy; we once went on a road trip together to a college football game. He’s usually a sociable fun guy when there’s alcohol involved, he described himself as a social drinker. Last year, I had accompanied him to his job’s Christmas party so he didn’t want to be bored; there he had a little too much to drink by way of adding some alcohol to the punch bowl. With the liquid courage in effect, he then told all his co-workers of how I’m a boring bookworm, how mad he was that he didn’t get promoted at his job, and he wanted to fight the person who got the promotion. I clapped back at him and told him good luck getting his license and car back because he was about to lose his job, which he did. He’s lucky he didn’t know about the true crime books I read, the ones with female killers that have bumped off their husbands or boyfriends whether they deserved it or not; I secretly thought about taking out an accidental death insurance policy out on him being that he’s a drunk, but I had a reasonable yet less deadly idea after taking a few calm deep breaths by dropping him off at the nearby rehabilitation center and never looking back. It was my own way of telling Alvin that it’s over.
After my breakup, I began reading into self-help books, ranging from finance to sexual well-being; I mainly focused on my online classes and my two full-time jobs. Many times, I think that men in books do it better when it comes to romance and pleasure, especially in romance novels; I mean at least they don’t break your heart, hurt you in any way, or make you feel lonely. In my spare time, I like to write erotic romance short stories that have a mix of sensuality and sexuality where the main female character feels wanted and desired.
One Saturday night after a busy day at both the public library and the coffeehouse, I came home to my two-story townhouse in the midtown area and changed into my loungewear. I wrote a story on my computer while I relaxed in my “Boys In Books Do It Better” t-shirt. I’ve written several erotic romance short stories and put them on my WordPress page; there’s one story I wrote involving a young woman who escapes to an enchanted forest in her dreams where she meets with a lavender long-haired prince and has these romantic trysts, he also satisfies her way better than her real-life boyfriend. I’ve been using my breakup as inspiration for a series of short stories I’ve been writing for a while; I created the male character based on Alvin except I made him into a Fantasy Football addict with a gambling problem and the female character inspired by me who reads romance novels and fantasizes about the men on the book covers. Like me, the main female character in my series of stories uses books to escape the reality of her relationship.
On Saturday, I was at work at the coffeehouse because it’s very busy on weekends and the smell of coffee makes my day a lot easier. I had to fill in for one of the cashiers, who was in the hospital for a non-work-related injury, in addition to my barista shift. I’d often see this one particular guy who would come in at night. I got a look at him a few times; he was tall with sun-kissed skin, dark hair, almond-shaped eyes, and sometimes wear glasses (though I swear he has 20/20 vision or had LASIK eye surgery). He’d sometimes order either a tall cold brew or a venti dark roast, often bringing his own coffee cup.
That Saturday night, I saw him and took his order while I lowkey flirted with him. I got to know his name, which was Joon Hwan. I filled his cup with hot coffee, handed it to him, and said in a whisper “Have a good night, Joon Hwan.”
Joon Hwan was so handsome, I swore he gave me Asian Ryan Gosling vibes. I thought about flirting with him again and also making the first move. After work, I went home, showered, and slipped into something a little more comfortable. I thought about Joon Hwan while I wrote my stories onto my computer and read a book titled Find Your Inner Sex Goddess.
The following Saturday, I saw Joon Hwan again at the coffeehouse and he ordered a tall espresso. He wore a black jacket with a white button-down shirt, black jeans and shoes, along with a pair of glasses that complimented his almond-shaped eyes.
“So what are you are doing tonight?” I asked as I gave him his coffee.
“I had a busy day today and I’m going out to dinner. There’s this new Korean restaurant that just opened in town.” He said.
“I’ve never had Korean food before, I’m thinking of trying something new food-wise.” I replied.
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