Donut Nook Novels & Stories

“Didn’t see you at break.” “I was stocking,” I said. Neutral. Safe. “You eat?” “Yeah.” Lie. My stomach was a knot. It behaved better if I ignored it. He tugged his cap down. “I, uh… was thinking. There’s a Friday night thing at Dot’s. Burgers. Pie. Music if Dean’s nephew gets the amp working. You wanna go? As friends. Or not-friends.” Dot’s was the diner where half the town sat in the same booths they’d been born in. A date there was a declaration stamped in ketchup. I should’ve said no. Keep moving, stay grey, don’t let anyone get a good look.

The donut shop smelled of stale sugar, fried dough, and industrial-strength radiator heat. Thalia sat on an orange plastic stool, her large frame completely overpowering the small booth. Her wet clothes were steaming slightly against the blast of the wall heater, casting a faint mist into the air. In front of her sat a thick ceramic mug of black coffee and a glazed donut she hadn't touched. Across the Formica table, Chloe was methodically tearing a jelly donut into tiny pieces, completely unbothered by the rain dripping from her bangs.

As they reached the cafeteria Noah saw they were selling real human sandwiches and real human doughnuts He breathed the biggest sigh of relief before he dashed over to the front of the queue leaving everyone else to follow slowly behind. Noah’s troubles began rising again as he asked the woman behind the counter for a triple fudge hot chocolate doughnut. To Noah it was exactly the kind of thing he needed to relax until she told him it cost him 3 doughnuts Then he remembered that doughnuts were currency in this world and began to get angry again. “I don’t mean you any disrespect but why is it costing me 3 doughnuts to buy just one edible doughnut? It even says on your display that it's a basi

The cabinets were still mostly empty, save for a lone coffee mug and a bag of instant coffee I’d brought over from the hotel. Lilac had promised to swing by later with some more groceries for me, so I wasn’t too worried. But for now, I needed food. Something sweet and sinful to match my unusually good mood. Picking up my phone from the counter, I scrolled through my contacts until I found the number for Dunk’n Donuts. I pressed the call button and waited. A cheerful male voice answered on the other end. “Good morning! Dunk’n Donuts, how can I help you today?”

Judging by the growing mountain of crumpled napkins at her side, I’m convinced she’s already inhaled enough donuts to supply an entire police precinct for a week. The air is warm with the scent of fried dough and caramelized glaze, the sweetness wrapping itself around us in lazy, decadent waves — they’re so good it’s almost criminal. Alejandro’s new Australian chef, Dingo, has been making them fresh for The Doghouse — the quirky little new bistro tucked inside Paws and Claws — an upgrade of the old coffee shop. Mel closes her eyes on the next bite, letting out these faint, unashamed moans, the kind that make my guts turn with a mix of envy and secondhand embarrassment. She chews slowly, reve

"We have our finalists! Jason Dutton and Adrian Markham! The final shall commence straight after the 20 minute break." I walked out the hall, rushing to the tuckshop. If there was one thing I loved more than my family, it was doughnuts. Glazed, sprinkled with cinnamon or those tiny multi-coloured ones we loved at children, frosted or cream filled, I loved them all. I bought two and sat by myself to eat and enjoy myself without having Roxy there to remind me there would be a risk of cavities or diabetes. Roxy always keeps reminding me of how I had to get one of my wisdom teeth removed. Its so annoying.

Chantelle's sipping her usual—jet-black zobo with pink bubbles at the bottom of the bottle—pressing her phone and looking aloof. "Mmm. This doughnut will go well with small chilled zobo." Ahmed says, glancing meaningfully at Chantelle. "Abi?" He looks to Pascal for support. Chantelle cuts them some nasty eye, corks her drink with the straw still inside it, and tucks it under her armpit.

First there was a diner two blocks from the hospital that had proper oatmeal and a brown sugar policy that met Noah's standards. First things first. The rest would follow.

If I hurry up and get Anessa back to my house, there's a possibility we'll a few minutes alone before Dolores and Liam return from visiting the ice cream shop and playground. ... "I can't believe you're making her leave. We are bonding." Katy shuts the door on the bakery case and passes over the donut in the ridiculous pink bags Anessa serves her food in. She'd probably sell more doughnuts if we men didn't have to walk around with pink shit every time we left her store.

But before the nurse could, Zikki caught sight of Miranda. .... Noah's café, nestled in the heart of town, beckoned to all who passed by. It was renowned for its scrumptious banana cake, the kind that made your taste buds dance with joy. Stepping inside, one was transported to the vibrant streets of New Orleans, as the owner had carefully crafted the café's interior with his memories of the city. Mornings and mid-days saw the café bustling with activity, the aroma of coffee wafting through the air, while the evenings were a bit quieter, as the day wound down. The story of how the café came to be was a charming one, filled with unexpected twists and turns.