Clover Cookie Novels & Stories

And I definitely can’t talk to my dad. I park Wesley’s truck in the garage at the packhouse so I won’t disturb him and Haven at their home, then hop out and make my way inside, stopping in the kitchen to check for any of Cookie’s homemade cookies. I may have had dessert with Taryn at the restaurant, but Cookie’s cookies are legendary, and as much as I enjoy Claude’s food, his macarons do not compare. Only the cookies at Brewed Awakenings even come close to hers. And there is no such thing as too many cookies. Plus cookies are good brain food, which I desperately need. “Score one for Cookie Monster Beta!” I exclaim as I find a storage container on the island counter full of still warm chocola

I knew if he was pushing, it was important, whatever it was. As we are running, I keep picking up faint traces of spices. I recognize the spices from my sister Amelie’s baking. One of them is clove; she makes an awesome cinnamon and clove apple pie. I think the other one is cardamon. It stands out because she makes this chi spice coffee cake and the cardamon always smells so good. The two scents together are making me hungry. I don’t know if it’s the smell of the forest; for some reason, the scent makes me happy. There’re other scents mixed in something sickly sweet-smelling, and the other I’ve never smelt before, it’s faint, but it makes me want to know what it is.

Clara smiled at her excitement. “Is it like pancakes or something?” Cyra asked her, extremely curious to know everything. “Yes, you can make it as a pancake or muffin, muffins but I prefer them as cookies more. This way they came out more nutritious as well as tasty,” Cyra keenly heard her every word which doubled her excitement….but that excitement started vanishing as the time proceeded further and she watched her making those same exact looking cookies which she had seen and tasted before. But Cyra kept her mouth sealed.

“Jules might not have baked it, yes. But, he assisted me in getting the measurements right. That counts for something, no?” “What do you call them?” I asked, pointing at the tray in front of him. “The cookies you made, I mean. They ought to have a flavor or something like that.” “Oh, yeah. They’re spicy cookies.” Cole said, scratching the back of his head. “Spicy cookies?” I raised my eyebrows at him. “I’ve never heard of those before.” “Well, now you have,” Cole said as he placed one on a plate and handed it over to me. “Here you go, try it out and tell me what you think about it.”