Black Cake Book Novels & Stories

Hello my lovely readers, first of all, I would like to thank all of you for taking some time out to read my book. It is really appreciated and I would like to have more of your views regarding the chaps and how the story is going so far or which character is your favourite or least favourite. Secondly, I had a very hectic month so I am taking a few days off because I've been working on both of the books at the same time... but don't worry I won't leave you hanging. As writing is my passion therefore I am writing a chapter each day but I will upload it together. Thirdly, please comment on my books and give me feedbacks which is so important to me. I want to know what my readers think about th

I heard that information from my friends. His mouth curved into a smile. "Yeah, admirably isn't it?" I smile back before nodding. "Is there anything that I can do for today?" I ask. Blake snap before turning his back at me and search for something. "Yeah, We have the simple recipe that you can easily learn here." Blake give me a thick old book. I frown. Does the owner of this book is a fan of gothic styles? "Is this our Boss's recipes?" I ask. Blake nodded his head.

I didn’t turn around. Back at the Packhouse, I tried to distract myself. I scrubbed the kitchen counters until my palms stung. I gathered ingredients I didn’t need and baked a black forest cake from scratch—something with layers and steps and just enough mess to keep me busy. I whipped the cream by hand because I wanted to feel the burn in my arms. My fingers shook as I spooned the cherry jam onto the sponge. I couldn’t taste it. None of it mattered. The sweetness sat on my tongue like vinegar.

"Read. Hurry." June unfolded the paper. Her vision blurred. She expected secret codes—numbers, something cryptic. Instead, she saw her own handwriting, copied from her grandfather’s old notebook. “Three parts winter wheat. Two parts honey from the dark forest. Bake until the sun rises in the east.” She stared at it, blank. "It’s just a bread recipe, Dante! The Black Forest Loaf. My grandfather made it every Christmas!"

" You better never let her go." " I won't." I promised, my voice thick with emotion as she opens the book and shows me the velvet cake recipe. She leaves me to it after warning me to not destroy any of her other kitchen appliances. Ten minutes later and the batter this time taste a bit better. Not perfect but better. After putting it in the oven I waited with impatient breaths until it was ready. I cringed when I saw how flat and ugly it looked. " Fuck." I groaned, throwing my head back in frustration. This won't do. Another try again I suppose.

The baker was more interested in Ivan than she was in the flavor we ended up picking. And Ivan knew this, because he had her eating out of his hand, and this time I didn’t hide the eye roll. He had a disgusted expression at the Lemon olive oil, intrigued at the Almond sponge, a ‘not bad’ head shake at the Hazelnut praline. I have no idea why I was studying his expressions, including the micro ones so closely. “Dark chocolate and espresso, this is your jam.” he nudges me when we try the cake.

“Will you come with me?” There was a long pause. Then he nodded, his voice soft. “Alright.” Zack pulled the car around. As we drove, Kane wore a low cap and a mask, clearly uncomfortable being in public. I slipped on a mask too, and we slipped into the mall without drawing attention. At the entrance, the smell of sweet cream hit me like a memory to the face. There it was. The Cake Boutique. Black Forest. The one cake I could never have. My feet stopped before I realized it, eyes locked on the glass display. There it sat—rich chocolate, creamy layers, glossy cherries on top.

The news filled me with cautious hope. I went back to the ward, kissed Mum goodbye, and promised I’d return tomorrow. She protested as usual, but it was futile. I would be here — no matter what. On my way back, I spotted a small roadside thrift book stall. The colorful covers drew me in. As I browsed through the shelves, bumping gently into other customers, a green book caught my eye. The cover was filled with beautiful pastries. Bake Like a Pro: A Beginner’s Guide to Making Homemade Specials. I flipped through the pages, scanning the headings. It looked solid. I counted a few bucks and handed them to the old trader.

Carmen said giggling "I have prepared his own share like you asked me to wrap it in the red paper box and and the black dripping to it. He would like that, I guess because it is very beautiful and sweet. I've had enough of the cake already while baking, but let's go eat it officially, you guys should have a taste now." That laughed loudly at Anita's words and followed her to the Kitchen. The cake was indeed very beautiful to behold, it was iced with black that formed the drip on the cake and it was soft on the inside. There was also some cake without icing.

Two hours later, the kitchen looked like a battlefield. Flour in the air. Chocolate smudges on cheeks. Sugar scattered across countertops. Ava and Malik were covered in evidence of their crimes. Adrian looked exactly as he had at the beginning—composed. Denise and Dominic’s pastries sat cooling in flawless rows. My father’s cake—rescued from Alex’s destruction—looked simple but elegant. And ours? Our counter looked like a bakery display case. Cupcakes perfectly frosted. Lava cakes resting in ramekins.