God Coffee Novels & Stories

For ten years, I’d been a devotee of solitude. “I’m thrilled!” I faked enthusiasm, steadying my voice. “I know what can cheer Gabe up,” one said, laughing, leaning back in his chair with a pen in hand. “Coffee.” “Coffee!” another laughed, excited. “Gabe needs coffee.” “I don’t need coffee,” I said seriously. “In fact, I haven’t had plain coffee in a while.” I admitted. “But you’ll like *this* coffee,” a third chimed in. “Because it’s served by none other than a hottie.”

And this coffee felt like heaven for her. Nicholas chuckled at her antics. Bella’s eyes were closed when she was drinking and was enjoying the after taste of it. When she heard Nicholas’ laughter she opened her eyes and felt embarrassed at her behavior. “What is this brew? It tastes good and the after taste is also good. It tastes like mint” “It is indeed mint. Do you like coffee? I can ask someone to drop this set of beans to you. I grow this on my farm. I sell this only to the elites. So only elites in our country know about it as it is not affordable to anyone.”

He wore a blue-striped suit and a red tie over his white shirt. There were many beautiful gift boxes on the coffee table in front of him, including imported coffee and rare tonics. All of the gifts were high quality. Howard took a sip from his cup and praised, "Bennet, this Colombia Gold Coffee you gave us is truly delicious. It's fragrant and mellow. It suits my taste very well.

“Or is this some… tasting ritual?” With a shrug, I offered no further reply. I brewed two cups of Toraja coffee and instructed him to prepare two more of Gayo without delay. As I opened the bag of grounds, a rich, heady aroma unfurled—cinnamon’s warmth mingling with other intriguing spices. For brews of this calibre, Mr. Benedict never provides beans with their shells intact; he imports even the pre-ground beans directly from Indonesia.

Let’s keep things in peace so she won’t push you away again. *** "It looks like you love coffee, don’t you?" Grace asked after thanking Sean, who brought her a cup of Matcha Latte. "I'm addicted," Sean chuckled. "That little café is the main suspect. I've loved their coffee since I tried it in high school." Grace chuckled. "But their coffee is indeed wonderful. No wonder you got addicted." "You know, right? And their recipe has never changed. I heard they especially import their coffee beans from Vietnam and Indonesia. Too bad you haven't tried their sandwiches. I hope they're not sold out tomorrow."

Troy I pick my coffee off the counter with a smile at the barista. I’m not generally a fan of coffee chains, but this little hole in the wall place is a secret gem that makes great coffee exactly how I like it: dark, rich, and soul filling. I turn and nearly bump into a familiar individual. “Hello, Troy.” Konan offers that pretty-boy smile of his, and I want to smash my fist into his perfect teeth. I refrain, of course. “Konan.” I nod my head in his direction, taking a sip of my coffee and instantly feel the searing pain of all my tastebuds being killed off in a tidal wave of boiling hot liquid.

When she saw 'Hannah Adames' displayed on the screen, she couldn't help smiling. Since she returned to the country, she never really smiled genuinely. It was time for her to relax today! At this time, the sunset painted the small building downtown with a thin, velvety layer of orange-gold. Gently Cafeteria' was the most romantic and warmest place to taste coffee in A city. The coffee beans were sourced from Brazil. They didn't use fake goods and was fully authentic, but it was also very expensive. Of course, the people who could come here were all rich young masters, wealthy young ladies, and officials.

“Okay, so I do have a list.” “She finds a new coffee shop,” I tell Holly. “Then she tries every single coffee on the menu. Then she stops going, and finds another one. It’s why she only ever goes to a chain when they have a new recipe out. And she buys coffee for home that I’ve never even heard of. Goat-digested and weasel-chewed.” “Monkeys, not weasels,” Francesca corrects me. “And its civets, not goats. That’s why it’s called Monkey Coffee and Civet Coffee.”

"You should taste the coffee. It's very good. I went through a lot of trouble to buy this coffee, and I don't just offer it to anyone. " He looked very proud of himself. After taking a sip, Natasha casually asked, "Is this Serranoa coffee?" Marcus was surprised. Someone unfamiliar with coffee couldn't tell the name from one sip. "Mrs. Grayson, do you know about coffee?" Serranoa coffee was only available in Topola, and most people had never tasted or heard of it. Natasha smiled thinly. "Just a little." "There's no need for modesty. Not many people understand coffee these days." Marcus sounded somewhat sad. He seemed to consider Natasha a kindred spirit.

I didn't want her to notice that she was bugging me by just asking me that question so I politely responded. “It's a mocha green latte. With extra foam.” She visibly cringed and I rolled my eyes internally. I should have just kept the name to myself. “What's the extra foam supposed to do? Make it any less bitter?” “It's not bitter. It's healthy,” I insisted, hoping that she sensed the finality in my tone but apparently, she did not because she continued anyway. “Who wants to drink a green coffee? It's like they blended grass, put it in a cup, added some milk and served it to you.”