Cookie Cookbook Novels & Stories

I've never eaten lobster this tasty. Maybe Rowan doesn't know how much I love seafood, but tonight he'd definitely know. As I peel off the shell of the lobster, the cook commends my skill. “You see the way our guest eats?” Rowan's grandfather asks his little sister. “All you want is junk and wine.” Rowan has told me that Cookie wasn't a heavy eater. She just loves a few things, most of which happen to fall into the unhealthy side of diet. “I don't want to drink cranberry juice. I want wine,” Cookie grumbles.

My face turned into a thinking one. "Ummm.... What should I bake for dessert?" I asked myself while tapping my chin with my index finger. I snapped my fingers when a delicious idea came into my mind. "Red Velvet cookies they are!" I took out all the necessary things before placing them on the island in front of me. The kitchen feels warm against the crisp autumn air, and the smell of melted butter and sugar already fills the room, promising something sweet. I pull the bowl closer, watching as the deep crimson batter takes shape, a swirling dance of cream cheese and cocoa. There's a comfort in the familiar rhythm of measuring, stirring, and the steady hum of the oven preheating. It’s like a q

Romy batted her eyes at the others, “No worries. Lotte can hook us up…” Charlotte’s cheeks heated, and her jaw clenched. As if materializing out of the floor, Barbara was now at Lotte’s side and beaming with delight. “Hello, ladies! What a nice day we are having… Did I hear that we came in to try a few samples of our new cookies? Let me grab a few.” The bigger woman motioned for Charlotte to follow her into the back kitchen. With a sly smirk, she placed a finger to her lips and reached for a knife with her free hand. Whispering, she shared her trick with Lotte, “I get women like this all the time. Watch and learn.” Grabbing at one of the freshly baked cookies, Barbara sliced it into four pie

"Go get ready Christopher. If not I'm changing and stuffing my self with cookies." cookies? "There are cookies?" I ask with excitement. I really love cookies and I haven't had one in days. I want to teach my self how to bake so I can bake when I have a craving. "Yeah. I baked in the afternoon when I was waiting for the delivery. They are in the container on top of the kitchen counter if you want one. Make sure the lid is properly closed after or else... mh." she says, thought I think it's more like she threatens me.

Unable to stop it. No. I refused to stand here and cry. I needed answers, facts and proof. Not feelings. I headed straight back to the dining hall. Most of the festival guests had already left, and servants moved quietly through the room, cleaning the aftermath in silence. My gaze swept over the scattered remains of the celebration until something caught my attention. A cookie lay half-hidden beneath a table. Untouched. I crouched and carefully picked it up with a napkin. The scent reached me immediately—honey, milk, and butter, with a faint bitter note lurking beneath the sweetness.

"Hey Bri, do you have any more of those macadamia nut cookies?" "I have a half-eaten one. Last one." she chuckled and waved the delicious cookie before passing it to me through the silver bars. Her grandma worked in the kitchens, and unlike the rest of us, Brianna secretly got a dozen or more cookies a week. She was kind enough to share them with me.

Lindsay told Viktor. “If you are going to bake, can I request the chocolate chip peanut butter oatmeal cookies you make? Those are good,” Little Bob said. “Oh, those are good. Those, and the coconut cookies that she makes. Those might be my favorite,” Big Bob said to Little Bob. “And as you can tell, I have done that before,” Lindsay told Viktor. “If you can find a reason to stop by her house on a day when her husband is making pizza from scratch, do it. It is the best I have ever had,” Big Bob told everyone just as Madison walked in.

“Is it now? You think you can just pretend you meant something else?” “Of course, I meant this cookie. Not that rotten imagery in your head.” She smiles, straightening to finish her cookie now. A bit of satisfying crunchy silence rests between us as we work the cookies. By the time I finish mine, Ophelia is still biting at hers. She leans against the counter while I reach for another one on the cooling rack. Once I bite in, she angles her head at me with a question in her eyes. “So you said you never made anything yourself?”

It’s weird for her seeing me standing in front of the stove. “I baked some cookies.” I tell her. Right now, I’m just going to make some more cookies because Ugetsu loves my Swiss lemon butter cookies and so I’m gonna just make a few more. “Let me help you with that.” Natasha says as I take the cookies out from the oven and started plating them. “Thanks.” I tell her, taking off my gloves. “I just thought maybe I should turn it into an I*******m post.” I said as I take out my phone.

When I explained that to the kitchen servants, they kept insisting that they make it for me. “Honestly, I want to make them myself,” I keep saying to them. “It’s more personal if I do it.” “But why Luna Queen?” The head chef asked. “This is what we are here for.” “Because these cookies are meant to be a gift,” I told them with a kind smile. “A gift for someone special.” “A gift?” One of the other servants asks, raising their brows like that was the craziest thing they’ve ever heard. “A gift for who?”