Black Cake Book Novels & Stories

When I returned, he had everything laid out and he was trying to measure flour on the small scale, his face contorted in a frown. He looked ridiculous, in the most adorable way. A Lycan king with his tall, muscular build towering over a bowl of dry ingredients. “The recipe is here,” he said, pointing to the cookbook. “It requires precise measurements. We must ensure the consistency is perfect. So…I have compared three separate historical werewolf recipes for this thing. They all vary slightly on the leavening agent.” I walked closer and looked at the recipe. It was a rich, chocolate cake.

I said to him. “Everything is on the second shelf by your right child,” he said and left the kitchen quickly. I guess Luciano scared him away. I wriggled out of Luciano's grip and walked towards the shelf by my right to the second shelf. I took up my book to check all that would be for the butter ice cake and brought them all forward. I mixed the flour, sugar, baking powder, vanilla extract, and salt in a large bowl. I put in some eggs, milk, and vegetable oil and began to beat with an electric mixer on low speed until it became smooth.

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.

I got Cecil and Richard to bed son after Kelly left and was grateful to simply have the time to plan my course of action. “Need help?” I looked up as he entered. “I’m not much of a baker, but I can measure things.” I smiled. My fingers traced the faded words of my father’s old recipe book, each page a treasure trove of memories and flavors from my childhood. “Help would be great,” I said. “Adult help anyway. I’ve got a lot of cookies to bake.” He walked to stand behind me and looked down at the book. “What’s on the menu?” Charles’s voice was low and soothing.

“All of you, out. I want to cook.” “Out? But, Sir—” “Now,” he cut firmly. Without daring to argue, the servants and chefs exchanged looks and quietly walked backward out of the room. Yet they still peeked from the slightly open door. What they saw made their eyes widen. Grayson Blackwood, a man usually holding only pens for billion-dollar business contracts, now stood before the stove, opening his phone, and turning on YouTube. On the screen, a video appeared titled “How to Make Classic American Pancakes with Maple Syrup.”

I asked with an amused tone. “Pasta of all sorts, from scratch,” he added the last part and I chuckled, “rice pilaf, puréed soup, crème brulèe, and I make a mean black forest cake.” “Black forest cake?” “Chocolate cake soaked with cherry juice and topped with a cherry whipped cream spread,” he described. “My mouth is watering already,” we shared a laugh. “I’ll make it for you sometime,” his tone was so polite and simple. I nodded my head, “I’d love that.”

she murmured. "Mmmm, what smells so good?" Dressed only in charcoal grey boxer briefs, hair falling down over his eyes, Blake sleepily wandered into the kitchen. "They're supposed to be blueberry pancakes," Shasta began, "but they're kind of falling apart." Hurriedly, she used the spatula to scrape the first batch out of the pan and put them on a plate. They both stared at the pancakes, which were black on the outside. Gooey batter oozed from cracks and fissures where they'd broken open.

La Grace. Caroline found an easy-looking recipe in one of the cookbooks on the kitchen shelf. Jane gathered all the ingredients. But the cake was a failure. For starters, the layers wouldn't come out of the pans. Jane turned the pans over onto the cake racks, burning her hand on one of them, and then pounded the bottoms again and again. "You're not doing it right," Caroline said. She took over, whacking the pans until she dented the metal. The cakes still wouldn't come out.

Both were ready for more and kept teasing Trigg about it. Pink champagne infused raspberry lemonade cake with raspberry mousse. Knuckles could feel his mouth watering. He hoped that she had some icing leftover. Nessie’s hidden library had some very interesting idea. In addition to the standard icing ideas, there were a few new things he wanted to try. He discovered that several of the ladies liked her now not so hidden library. Anytime that he was caught reading one of her spicy books, he just grinned at his brothers. Papa Dean had described them as instruction manuals.

Melody was completely unaware of what was going on. She and Albert went to a popular pastry shop. The staff recommended their most popular black forest cake to the two with great enthusiasm. The cream was sweet yet not overly rich. The decorative cream flowers on the cake were both intricate and charming. This delightful cake instantly captured Melody's heart. They picked a bright spot in the pastry shop and settled in. Albert flashed a bright smile. He raised an eyebrow and inquired triumphantly, "How is it? I know you'd like it."