Book Club Dinner Ideas Novels & Stories

I lift a hand to scratch my nose, only to hide my smile. That's so cute. "Am I keeping you from dinner with your mom right now? Because I promise it's cool if you leave, I can bring you with me tomorrow," I say, but Bram starts shaking his head right away, "Seriously." "No, seriously. She has a book club every Wednesday and Friday, so those days I have to eat leftovers because she won't be around. She comes late at night, drunk on wine and gets angry if I ate all the leftovers," he says, giving me an insight into his life that I know most people would pay for. I eat it the fuck up, "So, it's cool if I stay."

I inform both of them. Scarlett cannot suppress the peel of laughter that explodes out of her. “It is basically a country dance, usually accompanied by barbecue food, and it is not as flashy as a ball.” She quickly explains after she is done laughing at me. “Oh, or we can do a luau or a masquerade type thing.” Hannah quickly pops in. “Those murder mystery type dinners are becoming really popular.” Scarlett quickly interjects. They rattle off a few more options and my head is simply spinning.

“You’re totally the leader of our book club; you write her. Maybe it’ll be called The Last Werewolf Ever: For Real. What do you think?” I laughed. “Probably. Speaking of, I should get the next book club scheduled, shouldn’t I? We have so many theories to discuss.” “I’m open tonight,” Kaitlynn offered readily. “I have plenty of ideas of what could happen next.” “Tonight?” I bit my lip and winced, recalling how Brick had said we were going to enjoy his hot tub together this evening when he’d kissed me goodbye at my door. “Um, I can’t tonight. But maybe this weekend?”

He felt the unfamiliar stab of guilt. ‘What are you doing tonight?’ he said. The question made Pamela turn round. ‘It’s my book club.’ ‘Your book club?’ ‘Six to eight women,’ she explained, since he’d clearly never heard of the concept. ‘We all read a book and then afterwards we sit round and discuss it.’ He knitted his brows together. ‘And that’s supposed to be enjoyable?’ ‘That’s the general idea.’ ‘Cancel it.’ The answering smile he floated her was supremely confident. ‘Have dinner with me instead.’

"Are there any themes you’d like to go with?" "Themes?" I set my fork down, meeting her expectant gaze. "Uh, I think we should keep it simple. Nothing extravagant." "How about a masquerade ball?" she suggested, her tone so serious I nearly burst out laughing. Daria clearly had a different definition of "simple." "Something simpler than that." I stressed. Nathaniel would loathe a surprise masquerade party. "Maybe a cocktail party? A self-serve bar, some finger food—" "We could have a string quartet." she interrupted enthusiastically. "And I know an excellent caterer who makes the best gourmet food."

“I can’t get the bad taste out of my mouth.” “Amy, will you and Daisy tell us about your event idea yet?” Megan asked. “We are dying to know what you two have planned.” Amy looked at me and shrugged. “It was your idea,” I said. “Tell them about it.” Amy placed her plate on a nearby table. “It’s called a progressive dinner.” I listened to Amy explain her idea to a growing crowd of young Alphas. But before she was finished, Mr. Foster sent for me. “Tell Amy I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I told Hallie.

“I better go get ready. I’m with Henry before dinner.” Lisa winks at me. “Just make sure you don’t show up to dinner looking like you’re hiding something.” “I’ve got nothing to hide.” “Of course.” “I don’t.” I repeat. “Oh, I’ve organized the hen’s for Friday night. We’re getting a limo and hitting several clubs.” “As long as you don’t ask Phillip along as a stripper.” Lisa grins. “Never say never.”

“That means I have to bake again tomorrow.” “Tragic,” I say. She sighs deeply. “You two are impossible.” The rest of the evening moves quickly. People come and go. Someone asks about hosting a book club. Another group wants to start a poetry night. At one point Mara drops an entire tray of cookies and insists gravity betrayed her. Luca spends ten minutes rearranging chairs because apparently the reading corner seating arrangement is very controversial. And through all of it one thought keeps drifting through my head. Ethan should be here.

I said with a smile. Her eyes lit up with recognition. "Oh! You're the Gonzalezes! In the Miller beach house! We're so glad someone is finally living there year-round." She leaned in conspiratorially. "We have a weekly book club. Tuesdays at ten. We're starting a new mystery next week. Nothing too taxing. We'd love to have you." A book club. The invitation was so ordinary, so wonderfully mundane. For a moment, the old Gwen surfaced—the one who scheduled meetings with senators and orchestrated multi-million-dollar legal strategies. But she was quickly quieted by the woman I was now.

The Monthly Dinner With Caleb driving us both back to our home pack, The Sagar Wolf Pack, we past the local town which consists of the usual hangout places for young people. “Shall we head out for dinner?” Caleb asks me. “I can’t tonight, it’s the monthly dinner with my Dad and Henri?” I groan pushing myself down further into the seat. “I’ll break you out early.” He smiles at me. “No Saskia?” “Oh she’ll be there, she can’t help herself and not be!”