Baked In Book Novels & Stories

I took note of the jobs that had higher wages so I'd be able to notice immediately if they have emailed me back. I was happy with how my day was going so I made baked macaroni for my lunch. I don't know if Jeff likes macaroni but I have cooked some for him, too. I spent the entire day reading a book I randomly got from Jeff's library he has a lot of books. I wonder if he's read all of them. I got a book about a woman lost in heaven. She was not dead yet but when she woke up, she was already in there. It was a fun read.

I said, grinning from teeth to teeth like a child. We walked into the library. It looked like it had been a while, since it was in use. We went through several sections which included, finance, self-improvement, ethics, business amongst all. I caught a glimpse of a book I had been wanting to read, “Atomic Habits” by James Clear. I picked it immediately, and started going through it. After a while, I noticed I wasn't hearing any sound from the cook. I looked around and found her wiping tears off her eyes with the hem of her apron.

The city sky had grown dark to a mellow gray, the kind that swathed everything in gentleness—buildings, trees, people. Rain still lingered in the air, shrouding the windows of **Chapter & Soul** in a soft mist. Inside, the world progressed more slowly, more softly. It was perfumed with old books, chamomile tea, and something sweet that Lena had baked and not labeled.

“A friend of Theodore’s new mate is a friend of ours; come tell us about yourself.” I let their voices fade behind me as I walked down the hall and into the kitchen. There, I unpacked all the food that would help fuel my magic. I was going to need to figure out how to cook with these types of ingredients. As if my thoughts had conjured it, a recipe book lay at the bottom of the box. I pulled it out carefully, immediately noticing it was used. A piece of paper stuck out of the top, and I opened the book to that page.

Phoenix takes my hand in his and brings it up to his lips to kiss each of my fingers. “Not to worry beautiful, we can get the chain off. Is that not the recipe book you asked them to pack?” he looks at the big book, puzzled. “Er, no. Granny’s recipe book was tiny compared to that thing. She was always losing it then finding it in the fridge or under the flour and sugar in the pantry. It was a stained and sticky mess. Granny was a great cook, but the kitchen was chaos every time she baked.” I can’t help laughing at the memories of the mess she would make. It was totally worth it for her cookies though.

She didn’t want Calvin witnessing another chapter of her black history. Calvin smirked, but didn’t push. “No rush. Take your time.” He casually stepped across the spacious hall to the bookshelf that opened with a light touch, pulled out a hardcover English book, and flipped to the title page. His eyes skimmed the words, but his mind wasn’t on the text. Within earshot, the sounds of cooking reached him from the kitchen: the fire being lit, oil heating, and the batter hitting the pan with a loud sizzle.

The delicate fragrance of blossoms mingled with the earthy scent of the old books, creating a sensory symphony that enchanted anyone who entered. In the center of the library, a long, exquisitely carved wooden table was set with an array of culinary delights fit for a king. Silver platters held an assortment of fruits, cheeses, and pastries, their colors and textures a feast for the eyes. Crystal goblets brimming with sweet nectar sparkled in the soft light, inviting guests to savor the flavors of Arodona.

I glanced down and frowned. "I never asked for them heated." Panic instantly spread across her face. She bit her lip, clearly at a loss, before finally forcing herself to speak. "I'm sorry. Lucas only ever eats them fresh out of the oven, so I subconsciously just…" I almost laughed out loud. Was she trying to declare that she knew Lucas's habits better than I did? Such a cheap form of provocation. Truthfully, I had been the original regular customer at this bakery. I'd even gotten myself one of their black-gold VIP cards.

Every now and then, I check what the man is up to before glancing at Vincent. “Do you have any books about baking?” the customer asks. “Yes.” I leave the counter and head to the aisle where he’s waiting. Grabbing a book off the shelf, I hold it out to him. “This one is pretty straightforward. You don’t need a degree to follow the recipes.” “Oh good.” He pages through it then gives me a smile. “I’ll go with this one.” “Great.” I take the book from him and head back to the counter. “Hey, little man,” I hear him talk to Vincent. My eyes flick to my baby before they settle on the customer.

I figured I'd take a break and come back to it later. I went looking for a distraction. The plan was Lior, his school stories could carry a whole evening, but he'd worn himself out and was already down for the night. So I wandered into the kitchen instead, just after a snack. Halfway through digging for something to eat, I realized the pantry was fully stocked, everything for cinnamon rolls right there. Before I could really decide, I was reaching for a bowl. Baking felt like the kind of thing that would rest my brain before I went back to the books.