Baker's Nook Novels & Stories

A cab stopped in front of her, and she’d hopped into it and provided the cafe’s address. The Nook Café was located near the apartment where she used to live with Megan. It was one of her favorite places, not only because they served high-end coffee, but because of the library it had inside. She loved to read books, and it became her comfort as she thrived in life. "One macchiato and one chocolate mousse cake, please."

I laugh and look around the big foyer confused as hell, taking a guess I head straight and thankfully see an open doorway that shows a fraction of the counter. I head there, the first thing that I notice is that this is a chef's dream kitchen at home. To my left stands a double door pantry, I open it curiously, on the left is a kid's best dream, snacks and everything sweet then to the left is the basics. I close and lock the doors, as told there are a few lists on the counter. One is the basics, the other is a day to day schedule for Noelle and her allergy list. •Peanuts.

(Nikki P. O. V) "I am sorry for calling you all out of the blue like this. But I am in trouble, and I need your help. The bakery I contacted to prepare goodies to give to the leaders of other packs and clans had withdrawn their contract at the end time, and I didn't have much time to find other bakeries and order them to prepare the goodies for me. So I decided to prepare it at the packhouse, but I can't do it alone. I need you all to help me with it.

“Tourists don’t look like that.” The baker squinted toward the café. “Like what?” The butcher lowered his voice instinctively. “Like they’re measuring the place.” The baker frowned. Measuring. Yes. That was the right word. Inside the library, Elaine tried to act normal. The small building sat at the edge of the square, quiet and welcoming with its large windows and rows of neatly arranged bookshelves. It had quickly become her safe place in the village—a space where life felt simple and predictable.

I point to the little bakery, “Is it that good that people stand in line for it and why are there photographers?” “Oh yes, Loup Magique is the best bakery in town. We get our pies and cakes from there. The owner is Bronx Mason’s wife,” she wiggles her eyebrows at me as if that is supposed to be impressive news. “Ohhhh, how...uhh cool,” I make my eyes a little bigger and emphasize the word cool, for effect. When in reality, I don’t give a shit that the owner is Bronx’s wife. “You’re staying at Mrs. Kirby’s, right?” she asks with a tinge of sympathy in her voice.

she said, and I glanced at Blake quickly enough to see her scrunched up her nose. Blake let out a small laugh, the tension in her shoulders loosening just a little. “The Luna’s Bakes? Julia, come on.” Julia grinned. “What? It has a ring to it. Strong, sweet, a little mysterious. Just like you.” Blake raised an eyebrow. “More like it sounds like I’m about to sell cookies laced with wolfsbane.” That got a snort out of Nina, who hadn’t looked up from her tablet. “She’s not wrong. Sounds like something you’d find in a fantasy novel.”

That does bring a small smile to my face. Dallas owns the Bizzy Bee Bakery and Diner here in our small town in Minnesota. She moved here a few years back and has really taken what was the old craft store and made it into a chic diner that’s always busy. I do not have a clue what she puts in her cakes and dough for the bagels but they’re so damned addictive. I can never get enough of them. I guess I will need to eat and seeing Dallas will cheer me up for sure. She’s a few years older than me and I like to think that us Girl Bosses will stick together.

There were some customers walking in and out of the store casually. Sachin spread his arms dramatically. “Behold.” Drake stared at him, unsure of what he was referring to. “A bakery?” “Yes.” Elaina raised a brow. “The magicians are hiding in pastries?” “Not exactly,” Sachin said, already moving toward the door. Inside, the bakery was chaotic in the most pleasant way. Workers rushed with trays of golden loaves and honeyed buns to display counters while children pressed their faces to glass cases with drooling mouths.

Anson forced an awkward smile, pulling up his slipping backpack, “Then you should give it a try.” The guy smiled and nodded, “I will…how bout you show me your bestsellers?” Anson glanced at his watch. He had to be at the campus by nine. He had already missed out on a few classes the past few days trying to match the mysterious scent. But he couldn’t turn away a potential customer. Especially not when Margaret had just baked a whole new batch of cinnamon rolls. “I guess I could, come,” he led the way into the tiny bakery. *** The bakery was small but cosy with pale pink wooden planks flushed to the walls and a shelf of condiments and samples of bread and cheese for customers to try.

he'd asked, those big eyes so much like mine looking up at me with concern. "Yeah, buddy. It's RiRi." "You should say sorry and bring cookies. That's what you tell me to do." So here I was, mid-morning, headed to Erica's house with my crutches awkward under my arms and a peace offering in a paper bag—pastries from Flour & Co., the only bakery in the city that could possibly compete with The Sweet Spot. It was the thought that counted, right?