Corpse Honey
Clara Thurman came to Maple Valley for a byline. She's leaving with a body count.
Assigned to cover a small town's 150th Apple Festival, cynical city journalist Clara expects charming locals, blue-ribbon pie, and a puff piece she can forget by Monday. What she gets is Liam Johnston: honey farmer, small-town legend, and exactly the kind of man Hallmark movies are made of. Golden light. Easy charm. A truck that smells like sandalwood. Eyes that make her forget every red flag she's ever learned to spot.
Then she tastes the honey.
It's the best thing she's ever put in her mouth. It's also the reason the whole town is looking a little too healthy, a little too hungry, and a little too devoted to the man who makes it. Because Liam's bees don't just pollinate. They feed on the dead. And what they produce doesn't just taste incredible.
It changes you.
By the time Clara understands what's growing in Maple Valley's orchards, she's already addicted. The town is already infected. And the man she fell for under the Christmas lights isn't entirely a man anymore.
Corpse Honey is a splatterpunk love letter to every cozy small-town romance that never told you what was really in the jar. Body horror, folk dread, and a heart that keeps beating long after it should have stopped. For readers of The Ruins, Midsommar, and Tender Is the Flesh who like their sweetness with a little rot underneath.
The honey is pure. The love is real. Neither one is going to save her.
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