Black Cake Book Review Novels & Stories

“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.

"Why won't this work?" Luke stared. The kitchen looked like a war zone. Flour dusted the counters, something was charred on the stove, and Cass looked like he was about to set the building on fire. "What are you doing?" Luke asked slowly. Cass looked up, his hair messy, eyes wild. "I'm trying to make a damn cake, okay? A 'Welcome Home' cake for Bingley. But the chemistry is wrong and the gravity is off and I hate everything!" Luke looked at the smashed banana on the wall behind him. "Is the banana part of the recipe or a weapon?"

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.

The antique looking cookbook, themed after witches and wizards, was what propelled me into my passion for baking. “Let’s see…” I trailed off, pulling two from the shelf at random. Colorful pictures jumped out at me until I chose one from each book, as I did every night. “…how does bacon jam burgers and a black forest pudding cake sound?” “Sounds like I need to start paying you instead of the other way around. You keep spoiling me like this, and I might not want to retire.” Jackie teased, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Next time you make some of them cheesecake bars, I’ll take another pan. Phil went crazy over those things.”

Dark chocolate with lots of cream of the same flavor—in essence, it was all chocolate, to the point where I wondered if she should just eat a chocolate bar instead of a cake like this. I had tried this cake once, but I disliked it. The taste was too rich and sticky, making me want to wash it with water. "Do you not like it at all?" Nicole, much younger than she was now, asked, frowning as she watched me. "But it’s delicious, and you’re the one who recommended it to me, Chris." I shook my head, feeling bloated from drinking too much water. "I just shared what I saw on the restaurant’s Website and the reviews from other customers. I didn’t try it myself."

“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 floor looks like it’s a warm cherry wood, and they have foam mats in front of the sinks, stoves, and a few along the counters. “Would I be able to bake in here?” Ashton pops his head up from the cutting board, a look of shock across his face. “Of course, you can! You can use anything in the pack house and save the packs individual houses you can use anything in our territory. I didn’t know you could bake though!” “I do here and there, I'm no chef, but I enjoy it.” “Then I look forward to tasting some of your creations.” “I think we left two of my favourite baking cook books back in Scotland. I don’t think that is something Cal would have thought to bring. Do you think we could get anothe

Kael said, filling a pot with clear water and beginning to ask it riddles in binary. I went for the main event. I decided to bake the Literalizer a cake. A "Cake of Infinite Why." I used the Essence of Déjà Vu, so each step felt familiar yet wrong. I measured flour not by cups, but by the volume of a good secret. I sweetened it not with sugar, but with the anticipation of sugar.

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.

As he leaned back, something on the shelf behind me caught his eye. “Is that yours?” he asked, pointing at the pale pink notebook with cupcake stickers along the edge. I followed his gaze. “Oh, that? Yeah. It’s kind of dumb.” He reached over and picked it up before I could stop him, flipping through the pages carefully. His expression changed as he read, a slow lift of his brows, a curious narrowing of his eyes. There were handwritten recipes, clumsy diagrams of cake layers, and notes like “try less sugar next time” or “lemon zest makes it pop more.”