Butter Book Novels & Stories

No other woman was allowed inside, except for the maids. Yet now, I saw Lily in the estate. She looked at me smugly, her tone full of provocation. "So this is the legendary Irene Estate that only the Alpha and Luna are allowed to enter. It doesn't seem that special. I got in without much trouble. "I heard this place was your exclusive love nest. But Judy said it's perfect for pregnancy, so Carlen let me move in. You're not mad, are you? He didn't want anything in here to hurt the baby. That's why he replaced all the furniture with my favorite styles."

Then she stood there for a moment looking between us like she was watching a car accident in slow motion. "Well," she said finally. "I'll just be in the kitchen if you need anything." She left. Two minutes later, she was back with bread we hadn't asked for. "Fresh from the bakery," she announced. "Thank you, Mrs. Billy," Julian said without looking up. She disappeared again. I counted to sixty before she returned with butter. "The Irish kind," she said, setting it down with unnecessary flourish. "Mr. Blackwood prefers it." I almost smiled. Almost.

Arthur and Vivian parted with a warm laugh as Emma ran up to the dining table, placing the notebook down with great importance. "What is this new book, Chief Director?" Arthur asked, dropping to one knee beside his granddaughter. "This is the Family Adventure Binder!" Emma announced proudly, opening to the very first page. "Page one is titled Friday Pancakes and Weekend Picnic!" Vivian walked over, placing a gentle hand on Emma’s shoulder. "That sounds like an amazing schedule, Emma. Are we making blueberry pancakes this morning?" "Yes! With extra maple syrup!" Emma cheered, jumping on her toes.

“Better than that club, at least.” “Exactly.” April disappeared into the back room, returning with a stack of books. She plopped them in front of me. “Here. Keep your hands busy, maybe your brain will stop overloading.” I rolled my eyes but pulled the stack closer. “My brain has stopped overloading, work master.” “Motivator,” she corrected with a grin.

I wasn't sure whose I wanted more. "Excellent choice. Those guys are legendary." She was trying to make small talk but talking wasn't my thing. Sorry. "Here, one of Walt's best art work." She handed me a book. "Song of myself." I read the title out loud while checking out the book. "Or do you prefer Leaves of grass? That one is quite nice but I prefer this one." She said. The lady was a strawberry blonde with brown eyes. She had a round baby like face and slim lips. She was pretty and looked within her early twenties.

There is no mate bond, but having him close makes me feel more secure. “I can’t wait for you to see this.” He rubs his thumb on the top of my hand as he leads me to a store. It’s rare Bronx gets so excited about surprising me. We approach a bookstore with a dusty, old window display. In gold paint, there is a picture of a pan flute and a goat. The images are peeling and sundried as if they’ve been there forever. Over the pictures are the words ‘The Barded Goat Used & Collectible Books’.

I do love jewelry. After looking a little, my eyes stopped on a brooch. It was a small handmade gold filled butterfly. It was simple but absolutely beautiful crafted. Seeing the butterfly brooch Alex words popped in my mind. “My Butterfly” It doesn’t matter how much I tried to fight it, Alex continued to be in my head every second of the day. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t realize when start walking towards the store entrance. As I was about to reach out to the door, when it suddenly opened and I hit a wall.

He was here. The sun was up and in my eyes. The first thing I saw was a sheer curtain attempting to keep the morning light away. The wind blew, sending the curtains up to the ceiling. The few seconds that the window was left bare, I caught a glimpse of the flowers designed by mother nature blooming in bunches and shrubs. They were in a dozen poignant colours, the reds looked like it could bleed. And there were butterflies, two– no three fluttered in my vision. Their wings, quite small but painted like it could only be made for the museum or for Disneyland. The curtain closed and I saw the room more clearly.

"Don't look so amused. Anyone can make the mistake of cooking bacon without clothes on." I doubt that. Only an idiot would put bacon in a frying pan and stand so close to it without wearing a shirt. But...I won't tell him that. The last thing I want is to miss out on free food. So, I remain silent and take the liberty of collecting cheese and butter from the fridge. Brandon doesn't seem to mind. He is plating eggs and bacon for us, and I jump when bread jumps out of the toaster. "Just sit down," Brandon says. "I got this."

“An instruction? I was under the impression you were a critic, not a chef.” “I am a connoisseur of all exquisite experiences,” she countered, holding his gaze. “And I prefer to understand the mechanics of my pleasure.” A dark, pleased light kindled in his eyes. He moved to her side of the counter, his body heat radiating against her arm. “Very well. The key is the butter.” He produced a small, intricately carved dish holding a pale, golden substance. “Succubus butter. It must be warmed by hand, not by flame. The heat must be… personal.”