Comics About Food Novels & Stories

Williams Ava is a well known doctor in New York, she maintained a low profile because she has someone she loves, she has saved many lives, after saving Alexander's grandfather, she got into an arranged marriage with Alexander who she is in love with as his grandfather requested, she turned a blind eye to all his escapades. Ava devoted all her being into their 4 years marriage, she made sure Alexander met food in the dining room, sort out his laundry, she had to stop practicing her career to be the submissive wife Alexander would want and hoped to gain his love. With all this, it still seems she wasn't enough for Alexander who had his first love lurking around him 24/7. Ava did all she could to get her husband attention to her but all proved abortive as Linda was also determine to get back into Alexander life as a legally married wife. Ava discovered that Alexander had eye defect and needed eye surgery with immediate effects, she didn't hesitate to give out one eye for him. Linda made sure all Ava does was nothing to Alexander as she claimed the position of the eye donor just as she has always does. Alexander was touched by her and vowed to give her a place in his life after leaving her hanging all this years. Alexander gave divorce papers to the sick Ava without any delay, Ava hoped to save her marriage and reveal that she was pregnant. Alexander looked at her coldly and spat 'abort it'. Forced into the cold walls of the hospital to get rid of the baby, Ava shed tears of blood and decided to cut off ties with Alexander after she makes it out alive.

My in-laws, Melvin Gardner and Sharon Murphy, kept it a secret from us and traveled all the way to Metoville to surprise their daughter, Vivian Gardner. I brought them to the restaurant where Vivian worked as head chef, thinking she would give them a proper welcome and a great meal. However, Vivian called over her favorite pretty-boy apprentice, Tyler Lambert, and had him handle a batch of wild-harvested oysters from the deep sea. These rare specimens were notorious because they may carry Tetrodotoxin if not purged with extreme precision—a high-stakes task that even the seasoned chefs usually avoided. Tyler frowned and whined at her, "Oh come on, Chef, these oysters are so tricky to prepare. I'm not sure I can handle them..." Vivian just laughed it off. "Just give them a quick rinse, and you're done. They're just a couple of old country folks. There's no need to fuss." Melvin and Sharon ate the oysters. Within ten minutes, they were foaming at the mouth and collapsed on the table. When Vivian rushed over, she did not even bother to look at the two elderly people. Instead, she was busy comforting Tyler, who had gone pale and fallen into her arms. She said, "If they got food poisoning, send them to the hospital. But make sure they sign a liability waiver before they leave." She glanced at me casually, her tone suggesting the poisoned elderly couple had nothing to do with her. "Your parents are from the countryside, so they're probably not used to city food. Don't try to pin this on the restaurant or Tyler!" It hit me that she still had not realized the people who had collapsed at the table were her own parents. I looked at her helplessly and confirmed, "Are you sure you want to clear 'Tyler' of all responsibility?"

When I opened my eyes, I found myself supposedly transmigrated to some ancient era. Every morning, before light touched the sky, someone would yank me out of bed to haul trash, chop wood, and do whatever filthiest job needed doing. Somehow, I'd become the lowest-ranked servant in the entire estate. The estate lord's son would climb onto my back and ride me around the courtyard like some pet he was proud to show off. Anyone in the household could hit me, kick me, or shove me aside, and not a single soul would speak up. Five years passed like that, so awful that I almost lost my mind, as if I were living in hell. Then one day, a group of servants cornered me. They didn't bother hiding their intention. The moment I saw their faces, I knew I was in trouble. Fists flew, boots landed, and everything blurred. Just before I passed out, I heard them whispering, "We're going to kill him if we keep this up." "Come on. This place only looks like some old noble estate. It's not an actual one. If he dies here, we're the ones who'll get dragged to court!" "Relax. Ms. Shaw will handle it. The idiot pissed off her childhood sweetheart. Getting tricked into this place is exactly what he deserves." Fear swallowed everything, and the world went dark. When I woke again, the lady of the house had conveniently "returned from visiting her family." The lord threw a grand celebration with tables full of food, wine flowing, and musicians playing like nothing had happened. I carried dishes into the banquet hall and lifted my head. Her face was the same as my wife's, Melissa Shaw. I set the final dish down, stepped closer, and in a voice only she could hear, asked, "Ma'am… are you enjoying your little game?"

When Elowen learned that she had been switched at birth, that her life as a princess was nothing more than a mistake, she quietly accepted her fate. She accepted being treated as an error. Accepted being hurt so deeply that even crying had to be done in secret. She believed she would fade away like this — silently, unnoticed, forgotten. Until one day — when despair pushed her to the edge — she felt a faint chill, as if someone were standing behind her, protecting her without a word. From that moment on, Elowen knew she was no longer alone. — Adrian survived a horrific car accident. His body lay motionless in a hospital bed, while his soul became bound to a wounded girl he had never known. He couldn’t hold her. Couldn’t shield her from harm. Yet when she was starved, warm food appeared in her drawer. When she was bullied, her tormentors met with inexplicable accidents. When she curled up crying in the dead of night, an invisible hand gently rested on her forehead—so tender it hurt. Adrian was there. Quieter than any living person. He witnessed every wound, remembered every tear, every trembling breath she tried to suppress. Affection grew in silence—slowly, carefully—as if one careless step closer would cause the girl to shatter. One was alive, yet denied a life. One was dead, yet still learning how to protect someone. Some forms of protection need no light. Some kinds of love cannot be touched. — Then one day, Elowen spoke seriously to her “Ms. Ghost”: Elowen: “Ms. Ghost, if you’re lonely…” “Maybe you could bond with a male ghost.” “I’d give you my blessing.” Adrian: … Then the “Ms. Ghost” coldly placed a hand on her forehead. Adrian: “Call me Mr. Ghost.”

You think you've had a bad day? My name is Braddock Westfield, Billionaire Alpha (head werewolf) of the Crescent Moon pack I've searched for my fated mate for 22 years and finally conceded to the elders to choose a Luna to produce an heir. The night before our union my pack was attacked by rogues (werewolves with no pack, no morals, mostly criminals), we suffered no losses except my Gamma (Lead Warrior), who now we need to pick up 100 miles away in a small human town at a Diner. I receive a call as I pull into the parking lot, that my chosen mate has been kidnapped by rogues on her way to my pack. Pissed off, I enter the Diner, an intoxicating scent hits me and my wolf howls in my head "MATE" (22years of searching and on my Union Day, you find her). Two men crash threw the door inside the diner, yelling "Charlie get your ass out here now, we're not done with it yet." The old woman behind the counter grabs a shotgun and makes them leave. A waitress comes out bringing food and that intoxicating scent, my heart clenches when our eyes lock and our mate bond snaps tethering our hearts together, as I look at her broken nose, bruised face, split lip, swollen green glistening eyes. I need to get her to leave with us, promising to keep her safe, revealing I'm a psychiatrist with facilities, to help her rebuild her self-esteem and build her confidence to help her, move past her obvious trauma. Explaining she's a werewolf and I'm her fated mate and at least 20+ years older than her, that may be more challenging. Let's not forget, I now need to find my kidnapped chosen that I need to reject. All this before 9am.

At 10:00 pm sharp, a food deliveryman wearing a cap knocks on the door of Unit 502. "Excuse me, are you the one who ordered delivery?" Unit 502 is an apartment that's rented out to multiple people. There are three rooms here altogether. The one opening the door is my roommate, William Yates. He has his headphones on and is currently immersed in a game. So, he waves a hand impatiently. "It wasn't me." The deliveryman wastes no time in pulling out a machete. Immediately, he slashes William's throat in one fluid motion. Next, the deliveryman opens the door leading to another bedroom while holding the takeout. "Did you order delivery?" That room belongs to a gym trainer named Leon Holton. He's obviously taken aback by the deliveryman's presence. "Nope. Who are—" The deliveryman doesn't give Leon a chance to finish his question. He reacts by plunging the machete into Leon's heart. When I'm done with my shower, I open the bathroom door to see large puddles of blood on the floor as well as the deliveryman, who's wielding a machete. "They weren't the ones who ordered delivery. Did you do it?" Scared out of my wits, I subconsciously shake my head. "It's not me! I don't know anything—" Before I can finish speaking, the deliveryman hacks me to death. When I open my eyes again, I've gone back five minutes in time before I get murdered in cold blood. Almost immediately, I rush out of the bathroom, only to see the alarmed expressions plastered all over William's and Leon's faces. That's when I'm certain that everyone has gotten reborn. Suddenly, the doorbell rings loudly. A suppressed masculine voice echoes afterward. "Excuse me, are you the one who ordered delivery?"

To scrape together enough money for tickets home on New Year’s Eve, I took on a part-time job and accidentally entered a livestream where money was being thrown around. The boy on screen had fair skin and wore a high-end knit sweater, with a luxuriously decorated villa behind him. “It’s too boring being kept here. My sugar mommy gives me more money than I can spend. Let’s do some giveaways.” Excited, I grabbed several large cash drops in a row. The money for my girlfriend’s and my tickets was almost enough. Then the boy suddenly leaned close to the camera. “She keeps saying the tear mole under my eye looks like her boyfriend’s. What bad luck, sharing the same feature as some poor loser.” My fingers trembled. I had a tear mole in the exact same spot. A comment floated by: [How could a sugar mommy’s boyfriend be poor?] The boy sneered, running a hand through his hair. “She’s just playing around. Told him she’s a million in debt, and he’s dumb enough to work and help her pay it off.” My heart went cold. My girlfriend was also supposedly a million in debt. “The funniest part is, she just spent three days with me. When she left, I asked if she still had the energy to go be with him. “She said as long as she tells him she’s going to wash dishes at a barbecue place, that idiot will feel bad and go deliver food to make some extra money overnight.” Another big cash drop came in. I had enough now. My phone rang. Wren’s voice sounded tired as she said, “Aran, the ticket money isn’t enough… I made a little over two hundred dollars washing dishes. I’ll head home now.”

"ohh myyy! just a taste of him will satisfy me to the core. I saw him early that morning, dressed up in some touch of casual and elegant and he's been on my mind ever since. 'Hey Damon, I'll be here thinking about everything I'm supposed to be doing with you.' " This novel is about a young girl who is obsessed about her boyfriend's dad. She wanted him so bad that she started having wet dreams about him.

On the eve of our engagement ceremony, I noticed that Angelina Manning, my rich girlfriend, wasn't paying attention at all when we were shopping together. I bought a hotdog from a nearby food truck and passed it to Angelina's lips. To my surprise, she tossed it to the ground furiously. "Devon Fuller, my family wants a son-in-law who can carry himself with confidence and poise! Stop buying these cheap things! You'll just end up embarrassing me even more! How can my parents ever accept you if you keep doing things like this?" Feeling rather awkward, I picked up the hotdog and threw it into a nearby trash can. Then, I nodded in response so that I could maintain our four-year relationship. "Okay." I thought that was the end of the outburst, but Angelina decided to get engaged to Jeffrey Terell the next day. "Devon, Jeffrey committed suicide and got admitted into the hospital just so he could be with me. Once he's back to normal, I'll definitely return to you." I still nodded and broke up with Angelina. "Okay." After that, I left. Four years later, Angelina shows up at my residence with the diamond ring she had used to propose to me back then. "Devon, Jeffrey has agreed to file for a divorce from me. We can finally be together again! I told you before that I can return to your side as soon as Jeffrey lets go of his obsession over me and stops hurting himself." I frown at Angelina, who looks all loving and affectionate. At the same time, I mentally curse myself for picking this particular time to come home. After all, I've decided to come back to my cottage just to grab something on a whim, only to bump into my delusional ex-girlfriend. I just push her toward the door. "Excuse me. I don't want to be late picking up my kid from school."

Everyone says I have the face of an angel. However, I choose to take a knife and slash my own beautiful face. When my twin sister sees the drastic change in my appearance, she loses it and screams at me, wanting to know why I ruined my face. In my past life, she couldn't stop stealing food deliveries. When our next-door neighbor caught her, she shoved the pregnant woman so hard that she miscarried. The woman was seven months along, and both she and her baby died. But my sister just shrugged it off, bragging that she was some popular influencer, and two pathetic lives didn't matter. She even slapped down a 50-dollar bill like it was nothing, just to humiliate them. "Still trying to scam my money? For all we know, that woman's baby was already dead inside her. Your family must've done pretty awful things to deserve losing two lives like that!" When the dead woman's family showed up at our door with kitchen knives, ready for revenge, my sister chickened out and hid. Before that, she tricked me into coming home instead. The second I walked up to our front door, the grief-stricken husband slashed at my neck, severing the artery. I died right there on the spot. After I died, everyone spat on my memory. They all said I got what I deserved, and my parents covered up what my sister really did. She even had the nerve to come forward and apologize for me, cashing in on my death while hooking up with my boyfriend. The two of them became this perfect couple online and made tons of money. This time around, I decide to destroy my face. I want to see how she will steal my identity and pin her crimes on me now!