Campfire Cooking Anime Recipes Novels & Stories

When my colleagues find out that I'm pretty good at cooking, they start organizing dinners at my place. Lucy Holt, one of the junior accountants, suggests that we split the groceries evenly between us. As a result, I don't think I can reject their request without being rude. On my last day of work, the group gathers at my place for one last meal. "You're such a good cook, Jess! We'll all be transferring you 500 dollars later. It's just a token of our appreciation," Lucy declares with a bright smile. But the very next day, she sends me a message. "Hey, Jess. You know it's illegal to operate an unlicensed catering business from your home, right? Your house will get sealed off for further i

Ten years to the day we were mated, Eric came home wearing the scent of his first love. He wrapped me in his scorching heat, his voice a hoarse whisper against my ear. "I want you, Lyra." He hadn't marked me on a full moon in so long. But right now, the scent of another she-wolf on him was a bitter ache in my chest. The dinner I'd prepared for our full moon ritual was swept off the table by our cub, River. He looked at me with his father’s cold expression. "Mom, your cooking doesn’t even come close to Auntie Aurora’s." Aurora. The first love Eric could never forget. The one he'd brazenly appointed as CFO of our pack's corporation. They were the perfect pair, flaunting their connection for al

On the way home during the holidays, my fiance's sister-in-law, Pamela Kensington, brings out an electric pot that requires 2,000 watts in order to function so that she can cook some meatballs. "The sockets in the electric car are meant for us to use, no? If we can't have hot food during our trips, then what's the use of having an electric car in the first place?" My fiance, Mason Vance, who is driving, doesn't bother to stop Pamela. Instead, he helps her fill up the pot with water while smiling. In my previous life, I had strictly stopped them from cooking meatballs and told them that we didn't have enough power left in the electric car. If they were to cook the meatballs, the car would

On Christmas Day, eight months pregnant, I struggled through the kitchen,cooking for my husband and his secretary. When I finally sat down, hoping to taste a piece of turkey I didn’t even get during Thanksgiving, my husband shoved me aside like I was nothing. He slid the turkey in front of his secretary instead. “Alison,you’re already so fat. Stop eating. Let Daisy have it—she deserves to enjoy your cooking.” Daisy，chewing on the turkey I had painstakingly prepared, had the audacity to mock me under the guise of playing truth or dare with my child. “So, what do you think your mom looks like?” “Mommy looks like a fat pig on a farm!” “Her stretch marks? They’re like disgusting worms crawl

The day I learned the family's secretary had been Richard's mistress for three years, I called off the wedding without a second thought. Heartsick, I took a family flight and moved out to the West Coast, only to walked straight into an ambush. When they had me surrounded, Richard appeared out of nowhere and threw himself in front of the bullet meant for me. He ordered his most trusted guards to keep me alive, whatever it cost. Dying, he stared deep into my eyes. "Elise, I have no right to ask your forgiveness. Just live. Live well, and let me love you properly in the next." The sea ran high and wild that day, and they never found his body. By the time the rescue boat pulled me out of t

During the holiday break, my wife, Jayda Glover—the hospital's star surgeon and Chief of Cardiac Surgery—suddenly "had to work overtime." Our third-anniversary hot springs trip? Canceled. That night, I was scrolling social media when a post from her intern, Dillon Tripp, popped up. My ice-queen wife always said her "golden hands" were only for patients. Apparently, they cook now too. She was in a cartoon apron, calmly chopping vegetables. The caption read: [Thank you, Dr. Glover, for personally cooking to comfort me after I was bullied by a patient's family!] I tapped like and left a comment. [White coat to apron. Very domestic.] Ten minutes later, the whole hospital knew Cardiac Su

RACHEL:I was supposed to be a bride. Instead, I became a tragedy in a white dress. When your mother dies the same night your groom disappears, you stop believing in happy endings. Then came him. A man with no warmth, no promises and eyes that watched me like I was a puzzle he didn’t want to solve. He saved me once. Now I live under his roof, cooking meals for a stranger whose silence speaks louder than comfort. Then there is Chris, the charming CEO who drowns me in the kind of affection I always dreamt of. And there is Liam, my ex fiance who came crawling back, begging for another chance. But the heart is a stupid thing. Even when it’s broken, it still learns to give second

"No Chris… you can't fucking kiss me with the same lips that tasted Anna's. You can't… just leave Chris, please leave…” She screamed, her body shaking terribly. For Anna coming home meant summer nights by the lake, her mother's cooking, and slipping back into the life she left behind. Most of all, it meant Carly, her best friend, her constant, her home. And Chris, Carly's boyfriend. Who was clearly off limits or at least... he should have been. Because the moment Anna steps back into Millbrook, something feels wrong. The town is quieter. The air feels heavier. And Chris? He isn't the same boy she remembers. He's colder, stronger and dangerous in a way that makes her heart race a

Three years into my fake death, my wife and daughter showed up at my door. To get rid of them, I grabbed a knife and threatened to end my life. Then my seven-year-old daughter put her hand on my father's ventilator. Claire Harrison stood beside her, her voice trembling as she delivered her ultimatum. "Wesley, either you see your father suffocate to death, or you come back and be my husband again. Your choice." I was shaking with rage, but I put down the knife and remarried her. Walking back into that familiar villa, I became the Harrison family's model "devoted husband and father." When my foster brother needed her company because he was feeling down, I cleared out and booked myself a

Amara is the lowest-ranking omega in the Silver Ridge Pack. Orphaned at twelve, she survived by making herself useful — cooking, cleaning, tending wounds nobody else had patience for. She never expected the Moon Goddess to pair her with Alpha Kael, the most powerful wolf in the region. But on the night of the mating ceremony, in front of the entire pack, Kael looks her in the eyes and says three words that shatter her world: I reject you. He chooses Vanessa, the strong, beautiful daughter of a neighboring alpha. A political match. A power move. Amara is nothing to him. But instead of crumbling, Amara does what no rejected omega has ever done. She walks out of the pack. Alone. With noth