Burnt Toast Book Novels & Stories

"Harriet, didn't you mention on YouTube how much you love oat milk?" I waited ten minutes before slipping away to the restroom, where I dumped the coffee into the trash and made a call. "Hello, is this the Marshall family's security? This is Harriet Harlow speaking. "I'm at Camford University's Tech Museum, and Bennett's here. He's been using the tech meet-up to creep on the ladies and spill family secrets." Within five minutes, a pair of the family's enforcers showed up at the entrance. Bennett was deep in conversation with Sophia, his hand casually draped over her chair, nearly hugging her from behind.

Fridge hummed low, stocked with stuff that looked straight from a magazine, organic milks, berries in neat pints. I yanked the bread from the pantry, popping two slices in the toaster. "Alright, operation breakfast. You want jam? Or the fancy cheese Elias snuck in?" Angel climbed a stool, legs swinging. Scribbled: JAM RED. BURNT OK? Grin wide, like she knew my track record. "Burnt's my specialty." The toaster dinged, too soon. Smoke wisped up, toast edges black as my mood after Mason's stunt. I waved it away, coughing light. "See? Told you. Hockey pucks incoming."

I hadn't even had the chance to recover when Mom grabbed my hair, dragged me, and tossed me back into the dark attic, yelling, "You're far too unruly, Cynthia! It seems like you didn't learn your lesson the last time!" I accidentally banged my head on a container before gradually losing consciousness.

Gabriel mutters a good morning to exactly no one but he avoids my gaze as he strolls to the fridge. "Your eggs are burning. “Gabriel says casually. "Shit!" I realize now that I remained glued in my position the whole time. I immediately rush to remove the frying pan where my finger accidentally touches the burning steel. "Fuck!" I curse painfully. I switch off the stove returning my attention to my burnt finger. Immediately Gabriel rushes to me and gets my hand. He inspects the burn but right now as his hand touches mine, my mind is far away from the pain but it is concentrating on the person in front of me.

“I know, my love, I know. But you have to let go, Jacob. And I'm not referring to the fact that you can't do what you loved to do anymore. You have to let go of the hate you feel for yourself, love. You can't live like this, it's not good for you. You have to stop beating yourself up, Jacob.” “How?” He asked without letting go of me, “How do I do it, Vivi? How can I forget the hatred I feel towards myself?” “Living one day at a time, Jacob,” I replied, pulling away a little so I could look into his eyes. “You’ll never forget something so traumatic, especially when you have to live with the result of that moment every time you see your prosthesis. It’ll always accompany you physically, but yo

Seconds from Death The warehouse groaned like a dying beast, its structure collapsing in a violent symphony of fire and steel. Dino lunged forward, instincts overtaking pain as he reached for Elena. A massive beam came crashing down, missing them by inches as the floor trembled beneath them. Flames roared around them, licking at his back, the heat searing his skin through his shirt. Elena gasped, coughing weakly as the acrid smoke filled her lungs. She barely had the strength to move, her body limp against his.

Worried that I might end up hiring someone who failed to do a good job, I even spent two weeks carefully putting the wallpaper up myself. But now, it was full of stains. Meanwhile, I'd stayed up several nights and created hundreds of drafts before coming up with the design for my most beloved carved wooden dining table. I cherished it so much that I always made sure to cover it with a tablecloth before using it. But these people had stripped off the tablecloth I'd carefully chosen and dumped their greasy food right on top of the wooden table. It was now covered in grease and water stains. With just a single look, it was obvious that no one had ever bothered wiping it down.

I sat beside it. Tore off a piece of toast. Chewed slowly. Swallowed harder. It tasted like ash. But I kept eating. Because sometimes, even the broken girls have to keep going. Even if no one is watching. Even if they’re still on fire.

He looked at Elian. "I came back," he said. It was not a complicated sentence. It was simply the true one. "Yes," Elian said. "Not the same," Dante said. "Not the same person. But to the same place." "The pattern completes," Elian said quietly. "Yes," Dante said. Elian looked at the book in Dante's hands. "Buy it," he said. "It's a children's book," Dante said. "Buy it," Elian said. Dante looked at it. He looked at Elian.

My idiot ex-boyfriend, Cedric Gray, had been sitting right beside her, indulgently brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Professor William Calloway stroked his beard, smiling kindly. "Sabrina's always had a quick mind." Quick mind? Mixing internationally banned neurotoxins into the drinks of competing teams was what he called clever? Very well, then. The chief flight attendant approached at the mention, her professional smile tightening slightly. "Excuse me, did someone just mention something about a highly toxic substance?" Sabrina instantly switched to a playful tone, sticking out her tongue at her. "Don't be nervous, we're medical students discussing a case study. It's just a jo