Cannon Mine Coffee Novels & Stories

“Like remove him from the shop?” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug and she frowned in horror. “Rin!” “He wasn’t specific with instructions. We surmised what he needed from us.” “Why did he think you put coke in the coffee?” “Because I put coke in the coffee.” “What?” He threw his head back and laughed, “I’m kidding, my little mouse. As you know, one of Sonny’s first endeavors after the casinos was to create an airline to transport people to our casinos. It evolved to cargo and we ship the coffee for my friend. The man was a retired DEA agent who felt on the numerous busts where he found nothing but coffee, we got lucky. He started stalking me and the coffee shop hoping to find something and

"Happy to hear your voice too, shortcakes. Work is just you know, work. Which is why, if you are not busy maybe we could grab coffee? Do some shopping? What do you say?" "Yes. Ofcourse!" I exclaimed. I needed her right away. xXxXxXxX In all my years in Venice the best place I would recommend to get coffee would be Torrefazione Connaregio. And my favorite drink of all time would be their famous iced coffee with double cream top and bottom, a real calorie bomb! For Becca, their expresso was the best thing she loved about the place but for me it would forever be the iced coffee. We spent a whole lot of time drinking coffee and talking about everything. Her work, her boyfriend and how her family

I couldn’t stop staring at her, not because I was jealous, but because she had everything I had once dreamed I’d give to a daughter of my own. “Coffee is perfect today,” she murmured, taking a sip, her voice casual but clipped at the edges. I nodded eagerly. “The grounds are imported. From Kenya, I think. Charles ordered them last week after Barrett complained about the acidity in the old batch.” Maya rolled her eyes with a snort. “Of course he did. Barrett Augustus, titan of industry and king of pettiness. God forbid his morning brew tastes like peasant water.”

If coffee could change the fact that I was about to see a six-foot-two man with the face of an angel and a sin record fit for the devil… maybe I’d order a gallon. “Too late,” I muttered. “Just keep going, Albert.” “Okay.” I leaned toward the window. Trees were giving way to glass towers. The hospital would appear any minute now. And once again, I’d have to plaster on the “loving wife” face Claudia insisted was “good for the patient’s recovery.” What no one ever asked was: who was supposed to recover the wife? I ducked back to my phone, answered one last email from the interior design team, approved a minor revision on a SoHo boutique renovation, then shut it all down because my brain was alr

“That is the official name of our special coffee cream. The Alpha came up with the name himself last winter. It is one of our best sellers in the entire metropolis. It is because we do not use cheap beans from the rogue lands. No way. The boss would never allow bad quality inside his shop.” The maid covers her mouth and giggles, leaning toward Zara. “He is extremely strict about what goes into his products. That is why Zara’s Java Jolt is made with a special dark brew that mirrors the old espresso drinks from the southern mountains. We only use beans that are hand-picked by pack merchants from the high-altitude forests. The customers love hearing that story.” She sounds like she is giving a

I posted the photo on both of my social media accounts, simultaneously with the caption: "I don't give a damn about the long line but caffeine." #mornigritual #caffeineholic Soon my turn came, and I decided to order one for myself and one for my team leader as well. If I am going to be late, the caffeine would help me go through my day and maybe calm down Louisa a little. I sprinted from the shop, straight towards the office. Halting abruptly near the tall, glassy skyscraper building that reflected the Manhattan sunshine. 'Andersen Corporation' was written in huge bold and metal font on the building with the attached logo. The office appeared massive and expensive.

The air outside is damp and cold, smelling faintly of rain. The car across the street—the black one, tinted windows—sits where it always does. I force myself not to look at it twice. West End Café is only fifteen minutes away. And "Mr. Black" is waiting. ——— CAINE I arrive early, of course. Always early. The West End Café hums with the mid-morning crowd—students with laptops, retirees lingering over newspapers, a few suits huddled over espresso shots. Ordinary. Safe. That's what makes it perfect.

With blankness overtaking her facial expression “ well, we can go to the cafeteria if you insist, '' she said, placing the receiver back. Ryan smirked before saying “ I know a good place for coffee…..” Now, Jenny felt like cursing herself for bringing this on in the first place. ****** After a good few minutes of driving Ryan and Jenny were sitting across from each other in a grab-and-go coffee bar, which is quite known for the french style ambiance and cosy environment of it. The smell was circulating the shop because the coffee bar is located near the left side of the door. The first attraction for people mostly would be the baked food. They are tidily placed on the transparent glass cabi

MAXINE I stopped in front of the cafe and read the sign. It was Howl's Cafe. I had managed to get a hold of Mark and convinced him to see me. It had taken a lot to make him come here today. I hoped he was here. As I pushed the door open and walked in, the scent of cinnamon and roasted beans filled my lungs. The bell at the top of the door rang, signaling my entry. My eyes scanned the small crowd in the interior and landed on Mark who was hunched over a steaming mug of coffee. I walked over to him and slid into the worn leather booth across from him.

, quickly shoving away a memory trying to peak out. “So, the coffee date you talked about, can we go to it now? I want to know what you know about aboriginals.” Anya added, stopping at the tarred road alongside her walk partner. Caleb's face lit up in joy. “Sure, why not?” “Okay.” Anya began. “Since you are new to town, I guess, it falls on me to select a coffee place.” “Exactly,” Caleb responded grinning like a two year old. “Except that I don't take coffee outside my home. I brew my own coffee. However, we can check Longroove's best, or so the TV commercials say. And by that I mean The Nickle Cup. It's just down the road.” Anya pointed downwards.