Baked In Book Novels & Stories

With a racing pulse, I carefully peeled back the wax paper and opened the very first page. “For Zara,” the handwriting read, the ink faded but clear. “If you are reading these words, it means the oven has finally gone cold. Do not waste your life attempting to rebuild the bakery. Rebuild the foundation. The flour is the beautiful lie we told the world; the stone is the ultimate truth. Look for the friction.”

My face turned into a thinking one. "Ummm.... What should I bake for dessert?" I asked myself while tapping my chin with my index finger. I snapped my fingers when a delicious idea came into my mind. "Red Velvet cookies they are!" I took out all the necessary things before placing them on the island in front of me. The kitchen feels warm against the crisp autumn air, and the smell of melted butter and sugar already fills the room, promising something sweet. I pull the bowl closer, watching as the deep crimson batter takes shape, a swirling dance of cream cheese and cocoa. There's a comfort in the familiar rhythm of measuring, stirring, and the steady hum of the oven preheating. It’s like a q

"That's very smart." I looked at the book. "And very irritating." We definitely inherited that, Nina said. I couldn't argue. "There's writing underneath," Pippa said. "Where?" I asked and she pointed to the back cover. At first glance it looked like an oil stain, but Thalia tilted it under the light. "We need heat." "Don't burn my book." "Trust me." "Dangerous phrase." We placed the back cover near the oven, without touching it. Little by little

In the kitchen area, the tantalizing aroma of dishes from different cultures mingled in the air, a delicious testament to the harmonious blend of diversity. In the heart of the center, where the old library had been lovingly restored into a learning hub, the rustle of turning pages echoed the continuous quest for knowledge. The library was a sanctuary of wisdom, where books became vessels of time, carrying stories from distant lands and forgotten ages to their current realm. Each book was a world unto itself, waiting to be explored and understood.

She said and directed me to where I would be meeting the bakers and testing the cake. Stacks of design books were kept on my table. The walls also had cake pictures framed to decorate them. There were a lot of choices, I was so grateful I wasn't going to make the decisions alone because I would have to pick out all the cakes. I reached for the first book on the pile and immediately fell in love with the cake on the front page.

I pull it off the rest, hiding it behind me. "It's okay, we don't mind if you read it," he says, expressionless, not looking up from his task. He seems to examine the spine of each book, looking for a certain title that belongs to the book he needs. I walk by his side, now noting the real similarities between Ray and Xavier; their almost identical looks except for the scar and hair. All this time, he hasn't acted like a grump, which is a plus, and also a side of him that is pleasantly new to me. He smiles as he pulls out the book we need, a dusty one that isn't thick at all. The side reads Summer Kitchen: 100 Delicious Recipes and the cover is completely blank. I squint at the thin cookbook,

Today she had braided her hair in two pigtails that made her look more beautiful and innocent. Her light eyes glanced at me with a frown resting on her link-puckered lips. “That’s what recipe books are for,” Xerxes still hadn’t given me any phone or device to use the internet. But that was alright. There were many books in the cabinet for recipes and I was going to use one of them to make cheesecake. Though I was familiar with baking and cooking, I was not very familiar with making cakes often. If anything, cookies and a few side dishes as desserts.

I was used to people being upset to see me, so I didn’t think much of it. I walked along the rows of shelves running my fingers along the spines, stunned at how many they had. Little signs stuck out in regular intervals indicating the types of books. I stopped at ‘Cooking’, and flipped through one of the books. I’d never seen anything like the confections pictured. I had to try human food.

“Is he asleep?” Hazel whispered in Adam’s ear from behind as she bent slightly. Her hands held a tray on which there was a vanilla cake. It was layered with grape jelly and strawberries and blueberries. It was made by Hazel and Adam. Only because Adam was fond of cooking at a young age, he wanted to help Hazel and ended up decorating it with her from the bottom of his heart. The word ‘PAPA’ on the surface of the cake was written by Adam. It looked like the words had paralysis yet Hazel admired it.

“Since you’re back, are you going to pick the next book?” I blinked. “Me?” “Of course,” she said, smiling. “You’ve been gone. You deserve the honor.” Everyone nodded expectantly. I looked down at the stack of books on the table, my fingers brushing across their covers. My hand paused on a novel about love, identity and societal expectations. This book will give them a glimpse of what I passed through during my absence. I smiled softly. “How about this one?” Brent groaned. “Oh no, not another depressing tragedy. Can’t we read something with a hopeful romance?”