Donuts Book Novels & Stories

Outside a bar, several bouncers puffed on cigarettes and chatted loudly. I recognized a few faces. They were with Vincent earlier that evening. “Freaking hell, tonight’s been a drag! I can’t believe how tough the menace has gotten!” “Shh! Keep your voice down. Don Colleo is in a foul mood right now.” “What’s there to be scared of? If you ask me, Evelyn needs to be taken down a peg. She was Don Colleo’s lapdog. Does she think she’s a big deal just by putting on some designers?”

"I wanted to, but my appointment got rrescheduled, so I just came back straight home." I wanted to ask her what the appoinment was for, but changed my mind instead and gave her small polite answer. "So, you love to read books? I didn't know that. Rosetta said you spend some of your free time i here." She sounded genuinely interested. I trailed my hands across a row of books. "I do, but it's the smell of the books that make me come here often. And it's so cozy in here." I told her honestly. "Well, I used to, but Dante put me off for good, after gifting my favorite rare edition series to a girl, just to get in her pants."

Damon shrugged, pushing his head forward to a book that was placed on the man's table, and the title that was written by the side was vivid, at least, enough for him to see. “That book,” he announced, raising an eyebrow. “Walking free by Dr. Munjed Muderis, in the year 2014.” “You've read it already?” The man kept revealing the shock on his face, after every word that left his mouth. “Yes,” Damon replied almost immediately, placing one hand in his pocket. “About three times to be precise, so yeah, that should be an easy guess.” “Then why did you use two options?” the man questioned, squinting.

Chapter 49 Rose stared at the two donuts in the open cardboard box. One had a white topping with small black powder, while the other had a red raspberry topping. She let out a long sigh before finally taking the vanilla-flavored donut and began to nibble on the edges. While sitting at the bus stop and staring at the passing vehicles, the long-haired woman could only rumble with her own thoughts. "Why did I get fired?" Her mouth filled with doughnut pieces made her voice sound like a mumble now. "He just gave me the day off and then fired me. Do I look stupid now?"

If this was what love felt like, then Dawn was willing to forever remain drunk on it. Likewise, Aqua clung to Dawn tightly, enticing him with everything she had. In years to come, the aspiring writer would eventually churn out many best-selling fiction about mermaid romances with the most popular being a mermaid’s letters to her human lover sent in glass bottles titled “Dear Don”, inspired by the little things she kept bottled up whenever they fought, but never letting the flame die. *** “Dear Don, I wished you’d buy another blanket with all the money you spend on expensive gifts so that you would stop snatching mine.

But tonight, I would remember who I used to be. Before marriage. Before motherhood. Before love had made me weak and vulnerable and stupid enough to believe that devotion would be rewarded. The safe behind our wedding photo held more than jewelry and important documents. Hidden beneath insurance papers and birth certificates was a small black book. Names, numbers, addresses. Contacts I hadn't used in years but had never forgotten. People who'd helped me build my first empire when I was barely old enough to drink legally. People who understood that in certain circles, loyalty was everything and betrayal was a death sentence.

I look at the food and know the calorie count is 195. "195," I mumble. "195, what?" Collin asks. "Oh, sorry. 195 calories. That's how many are in one of these medium-size donuts," I say. "You count calories too?" He asks. "Yes, it's what people with my...well, you know...it's what people like me do," I say. "Well, if you are uncomfortable eating the whole thing. Can you humor me and have five bites?" He asks. "Sure, I will eat five small bites," I say.

"For you. The signed first edition of that neuroscience book you’ve been wanting for a year." Avery opened it. It was the new release, with a golden "To" signature on the title page. She looked at Sophia, her eyes stinging. "How did you even find this?" "A bookstore owner in London knows the author. I pestered him forever. Just tell me you love me!" She pushed the other box forward. "And this is for my darling Dorothea. Portable watercolors. They don't stain clothes." Avery took it, her throat tightening at the rabbit and strawberry designs on the packaging. "She’ll love it."

ISAAC SHOVED ANOTHER DONUT in his mouth, groaning with delight. He wasn't the only one having a donut-gasm. When Ruthie walked in with two boxes of donuts from North Avenue Pastries, I almost screamed. It was the best donut place in the world, but their shop was all the way down in Aptos. We had to battle traffic on Highway 1 to get there, so it didn't happen very often. Probably a good thing, too. We'd weigh another hundred pounds if it did.

"When you were looking at that magazine, your eyes were glued to this ring. Couldn't look away." "So I bought it for you." There was a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He had no idea I'd only stared at the ring so he could pay off his debt faster. The cold of the diamond crept up my finger and into my chest. I shivered. But he didn't need my help. Did he? The voice on the phone had just called him Don. The Angelo I knew was a broke kid drowning in mob debt. What a joke. "Three whole years," My voice came out cold. "A Don playing dirt-poor with me. Was it fun?"