Dulzura Borincana Novels & Stories

“We hold hands, but not like this.” “Ah!” I exclaimed, looking at the canned goods in the aisle. “What products are we looking at exactly?” I changed the subject. As if he knew I was changing the topic, he answered me, stopping and turning at the pineapple juices stacked carefully on the shelves. “All products of Dulce Alejandro,” he answered. “Let’s start with Dulce Pineapple products,” he grinned at me. I nodded, taking Callie from the cart and walking away from him to go near the shelf. I turned to the customer, having a hard time which brand of pineapple juice to buy. Her eyebrows knit as she decides.

However, everyone tried their best to hide their shock. "Ms. Becca Rodrigues, please tell me about yourself. And what is the name of the disk which you have prepared?" "Hello, sir, My name is Becca Rodrigues.", She replied in English but with a Portuguese accent. A scowl appeared on my face, hearing all the tons of lies. About everything, but then I reminded myself that this was an act. "The welcome drink I have prepared Cachaca, made from fermented sugarcane juice and is best known as the fiery kick in caipirinhas, I have prepared fried bar snacks as a starter, and as a main course, I have prepared Barbecued meat, and last but not least, I have prepared Brigadeiros in a dessert."

“It’s okay. No pressure. I’m still having my coffee.” “Okay. I’m speeding up. Love, is Brazo de Mercedes the same as Dulce de Leche?” “No, love. Brazo is horizontal. Dulce is round.” “What if they don’t have the latter?” I’m just playing around at this point. “I don’t know.” “You can just come home. Because I almost am and will be ready to cook. It should be done in no time.” “Okay. Let me just get ready. Am I supposed to also get chips?”

Seated on one of the stools, I down the entire thing in one go. Fuck! My throat burns at the sensation of raw, hot whiskey falling down my throat. “Mrs Delucca," a female voice calls out to me. I turn around and find a maid standing there staring at me wide eyed like she just saw me drink blood and not whiskey. “The boss says you're not allowed to drink alcohol." Not allowed? What I'm I, Fourteen? “Well," I begin, pouring another glass and taking a huge gulp. “You can go and tell your boss to go fuck himself. Now get lost."

She replied with a smile as she watched Philip leave the studio to answer a call. Dana had settled well in California within the short period that they had arrived. She turned on the T.V and watched the crisis going on in America and then it got to a certain point where she heard about the CRUZ company, owned by Maria and Manuel Cruz. The company was accused of plagiarism and infringement.

“Later, you’re treating me to turon. I’ve been craving it since yesterday.” “Turon? Banana dipped in melted brown sugar?” Ainara asked, and Marge nodded. “Fine. I don’t eat that. I hope they have carioca too.” It's a glutinous flour rolled in melted brown sugar. “We’ll find some.” She took another sip of her drink. “By the way, how’s that grumpy boss of yours? Isn’t he supposed to be good-looking? I just don’t get why he’s so grumpy when he should be happy with his love life.”

"Well I have to take her home. That's why I'm here in the first place. To bring her back to her Homeland" Wait a minute...... "You don't mean right this instant do you?" I asked "surely you can give me a few days to process all these and prepare myself" "I'm afraid not honey. The fact that you are alive and I found you so easily means that others can find you too. You are a very rare being little Azura, and you have lots of enemies. J could sense the energy from your power from miles away. So you are too vulnerable right now". Aunt Anna explained.