Black Cake Book Novels & Stories

Edward remembered that Sasha didn't hate strawberries. He thought for a moment and asked the clerk again, "Do you have any low-sweetness snacks in your store?" "The baking ingredients we use in our store are 70 percent black chocolate, absolutely no cocoa butter substitutes, and there are tastings here for you to try." The tasting cake was divided, only the size of a coin, and was handed over by the clerk girl on a toothpick. Edward took the toothpick, pulled the mask down slightly, and quickly put the cake into his mouth.

Hence, the covert operation: baking her a surprise birthday cake and finalizing our party plans. The ingredients lay sprawled on the counter: flour, sugar, eggs, chocolate, vanilla extract, and a myriad of decorations. I’ve decided on a red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting—her absolute favorite. As I start mixing the batter, a shadow unexpectedly looms over me. Startled, I nearly drop the whisk. Turning around, I’m met with the piercing gaze of Karl. He stands there, his arms crossed, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity evident in his brown eyes.

The lady didn't mind. At break fast time, Kayle opened the cake book. Inside square pieces of pastries were separately places in a column. Using a disposal plate, brought from the shop, Kayle picked up piece of the cake in strawberry flavour with creamy topping and a small biscuit flower decorated on top. Obviously, this was specifically for her. He gave it to the little girl with a juice pack. The little girl only took the cake plate cause that was more attractive to her than the pack. For the first time, Loathefiya had a real cake in front of her.

Welcome to unedited Black book 3 of the Woods series. This book can be read independently. You can read it without adventuring into 'Married to a stripper'. I'll be extremely happy if those who haven't checked that book out do so. I hope you enjoy my works. Love you guys much much. Your humble author Zagzahzlau. ~••~ The Sunday night was frigid against unarmed skin in Buea--the city of legendary hospitality-- located in the southwest region of Cameroon.

He removed the backing carefully. Between the frame and cardboard was a folded piece of paper. That is it? I asked. Adrian unfolded it. A recipe. My mother’s lemon cake recipe. A hollow laugh slipped out of me. A recipe? Seriously? Look again, he said. I took it. At first, it looked harmless. Ingredients. Instructions. Familiar handwriting. Then I saw it. A line of numbers written in my father’s handwriting. ISBN 978 0 14 044913 6

Seven months after the night in Moonstone Hall, I turned twenty-three. Nobody made a thing of it except Jax, who made a thing of everything that gave him an excuse to cook something ambitious. He had been researching a specific cake for three weeks, a layered thing with hazelnuts and a coffee filling that he had found in a recipe book someone had left in the kitchen, and the birthday was his justification for the attempt. The cake was technically imperfect and actually delicious, and he presented it at the table that evening with the expression of someone who knows the difference between those two things and has decided the second one matters more.

Or bourbon. For a second, my exhausted brain tried to dismiss it entirely. I told myself it was just the wedding cake, that the pastry chef must be putting the finishing touches on the display using a heavy dose of almond extract. But the wedding cake was vanilla bourbon with blackberry compote. There wasn't a single drop of almond anywhere on the menu. The smell got stronger. Another wave of the scent curled through the air, and this time, something inside me went completely cold. It wasn't sweet baker’s almond.

She always responded with a smile, watching us joke around with whatever she thought. Had she known? Night fell, and the sound of the roaring wind crawled into my ears. I opened my eyes, rolling lazily off the bed. The room was dark, but I could see perfectly like it was day. "Emily…" a masculine voice reached out to me. I searched the room with my eyes, the sight of a black-covered book coursing through. I could remember the book from the hospital desk but I hadn’t brought it home. How did it get here? The book looked disheveled, big, and had a strange inscription on it. I didn't remember buying such a book, nor had I seen it in Dad's hands.

they answered in unison. “Nine cakes?” “And it'll be really big so we'll have cake for a year,” Talia said. “Raspberry, lemon, vanilla. Double dark chocolate— "Ooh, and the spicy one we read about in the dragon book.” Kael quipped. “You want spicy cake?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Exactly!” Talia said excitedly. "Honey, cake should be sweet not spicy." “But it would be unique and cool." "Dangerous” Kael stood up and made a fighting stance.

His glance conveyed all his frustration, saying, ‘You young people and your newfangled tools! But then a smile appeared on his face and he mumbled, “At least, the cake is good.” Milli laughed as he took another huge forkful, eyes shining his pleasure at the flavor. “It’s called black velvet, a buttermilk cake flavored with dark cocoa powder and espresso. It is my friend’s birthday today and this was his favorite. I left one for him in another friend’s freezer as a surprise.” “You’re a very good person, young lady,” Ben said softly. “And an excellent baker.”