Cinnamon Cookie Cookie Run Novels & Stories

My silent question is answered by her, almost as if she's read my mind. "When things are wrong, Minnie always makes cookies. It's a way to change the mood in the house, and if it's her fault, cinnamon cookies are her trademark," she says softly, her eyes fixed on Minnie and Abby, who is sneaking a cookie while the housekeeper turns her back. I give a small smile. Cinnamon cookies are great. I need to remind myself that this is how I should apologize, too. I need to remind myself that I should adapt to their routine, not them to mine.

Final chapter,its a little special. "Babe?".Brian called and pads into the kitchen."where's Jace?". Justin looks up from the kitchen counter,shrugging."don't know,he's probably still out,take a look at this ". Brian walk over to Justin,wrapping his arms around his waist and peeking over his shoulders.He chuckled when he saw the cookies,shapes like gingerbread man,Christmas trees and snow flakes ready to be decorate. "Wanna help me put frosting on them?".

I said, my voice muffled through my mouth. “Oh, let me not forget to tell you this. There was a betting pool, too, you know,” Bianca said, “We all had bets on how long you'd survive after eating the cookies.” Then she paused dramatically, “Guess who bet on you surviving the shortest?” Her eyes darted to Jordan and her lips curved into a sly smirk, “It really is the ones we least expect isn't it?” “Listen it's- I can explain.” He tried to say, his hands reached out to me, but I flinched away from him.

Damon said, leaning back on his elbows, “are we winning the ‘best day ever’ competition yet?” Max looked up from his rock tower and beamed, that gap in his teeth on prominent display. “Maybe if we can have dessert.” Damon laughed and reached into the picnic basket. “You drive a hard bargain, kid.” He pulled out a container of chocolate chip cookies, and Max’s face lit up. “Now it’s the best day,” he said, abandoning his rocks to grab a cookie. Jane stirred at the mention of dessert. “Cookie?” she slurred. Chuckling, I smoothed her hair back from her forehead. “Yes, love. Uncle Damon brought cookies.”

I call out as Max and I head inside. We’re barely through the front door when I catch it. A scent so sweet it smacks me straight in the face — caramel, coconut, and warm cookies fresh out of the oven. My mouth waters. My knees damn near buckle. Sphinx is howling like a rabid lunatic in my mind, practically clawing at the walls. And before I know what I’m doing, I’m sprinting down the hallway, chasing that scent like my life depends on it.

She stopped speaking because Adrian had already left the room. Then she slumped back on the bed, gave an exasperated sigh, covered her hands with her face, and cried. Adrian knew how important the pack run was to werewolves, yet he was doing this to her, especially now that she was pregnant. A pack run was an extensive training for all wolves which helped them to defend themselves in the face of danger. But to a pregnant woman, it was different and compulsory. It helped them breathe well, it eased back pain, as well as constipation.

She springs her energetic self at me on the bed. I do my best to catch her and embrace her in a warm hug. “How are you, Cookie?” I ask with a smile. “Excited,” she cries out. “Come with me. Big bro and Henry want to race along the tracks.” I turn my face to the window and a smile curls my lips. “Alright, Cookie,” I smile and climb down the bed. I brush and then change into one of Rowan's black sweatpants. It's long enough to reach my toes so I pull it up to my stomach.

As they run past us, while Damian yells out over his shoulder, “Last one to the car is a rotten egg!” Lizzy stops dead in her tracks, crossing her arms over her chest, as she puts on her best pouty face, before she lets the tears begin to flow from her eyes, as she cries out, “I don’t want to be a rotten egg.” Ms. Caroline and I both give each other a look before she yells out, “Boys I made cookies.” Stopping them dead in their tracks, making them turn to run to her, as Lizzy turns giving Ms. Caroline a mischievous smile, before she wiped her tears away, and ran towards the front door, disappearing through it.

The gingerbread man was gone. In its place was a pile of fine, black powder that stank of mold and rotting meat. I almost threw up. I ran back to my room and typed a message to NocturneNotes with trembling fingers: The cookie is gone! It turned into black powder, and it’s moving! What the hell is this?! The reply was almost instantaneous: Add me on Discord. Now. We need to voice chat. I immediately opened Discord and searched for the user. I sent a friend request.

I said, and Mrs Kowalski cleared her throat from the doorway where she was pretending to read a magazine. We cut the cookies into shapes, and Lily wanted stars and hearts and dinosaurs, and Rook wanted hockey sticks, and I told him that we did not have a hockey stick cutter, and he said that we should buy one. Lily cut a cookie that was supposed to be a star but looked like a blob, and she said that it was Daddy, and Rook said that it looked exactly like him before coffee.