Good Roasts That Rhyme Novels & Stories

Roxy coughed one last time, clearing her throat as she peered down into the basket at the blackened, unrecognizable remains of what was supposed to be our fried chicken. She turned back around to face the room, her cheeks still flushed, but she forced a straight, unapologetic face as she looked directly at my woman. "Don't worry, Sienna, we're safe..." Roxy announced, her voice deadpan as she held up a piece of smoking charcoal with a pair of metal tongs. She gave a small, weak shrug, ignoring Ma’s horrified, judgmental expression behind her. "It's just a little… crunchy." The absurdity of her words echoed through the silent kitchen.

The leftovers, she would put back into the rabbit soup in the morning. Soon the fire was ready, Beth bought the meat out for the boys to roast. The smell of roasting meat was especially fragrant. Even Joan couldn’t sit still. She came down with Emma. They sat around the fire talking while the meat cooked, forgetting all about the unhappiness from the evening. The fragrance also bought the neighbors to the fence. “What’s that smell, Beth?” Mary yelled from her corner of the field. “My nephew sent us some meat.” Beth smiled although she was cursing in her head.

Long tables were set end to end, loaded with roasted vegetables, glazed meats, sweet breads, and tarts from every region they’d ever traveled to together. Drixie gave the first toast, loud and unapologetically sappy. “To Norwan and Natalie,” she declared, hoisting her glass. “Proof that stubbornness and romance can coexist. May you always find each other in the dark. And may your kitchen always have wine.” Grego followed, sharing a story from his own youth that ended with the entire table roaring with laughter. Amanda spoke last—tentative at first, but with growing warmth.

The aroma of steak was incredibly tempting, and Gia could feel her mouth-watering. “Morning...” The voice that had nearly driven her insane last night greeted her warmly. Raven stood by the stove, flipping a piece of meat and drizzling it with sauce. When Gia saw him, she felt like she had a mini-heart attack. Raven only wore casual pants, leaving his upper body completely bare. His toned abs, wrapped in firm muscles, moved as he stirred the food. Gia’s mind wandered to memories of how that body had embraced her passionately. The sight was no less enticing than the aroma of the steak that filled the house.

Ronan posts another crystal photo right after. "First time trying mountain-herb pork ribs in this territory. Yum!" Ronan text-blasts again. "I totally love the grilled river prawns. They are super sweet!" I reply on the network thread, joining in on the fun. "I like the mountain-herb ribs the best. They smell so good and aromatic!" Keira adds to the chat. "I prefer the smoked bacon meatloaf. It tastes way better than any ration pack I have ever chewed in my life," Solomon texts back.

The cinnamon-laced aroma had been tantalizing her since her uncle had set it in the oven to stay warm. Aided by a Crock-Pot that had been tenderizing a pot roast all day, Aunt Janet had whipped up the fabulous meal in less than thirty minutes. Buttery sweet potatoes and tender green beans sautéed with shallots and pine nuts accompanied the pot roast, which was quite simply the most tender piece of meat Leesa had ever tasted. The succulent beef seemed almost to melt in her mouth, and the gravy was to die for. It was the best dinner she had ever eaten, and she hadn't even tasted Uncle Roger's pie yet.

Axel Roe is peeking at me with her glistening amber pair of eyes. I'm glad she stayed for dinner. Roe didn't tell me who my ex was, so I decided to move on and just cooked her dinner. "Dig in." The aroma of honey glaze and teriyaki sauce fills the air. "What is this? Some chicken with brown sauce?" I laugh at her clear no, idea demeanor. "Silly girl, it's Chicken Teriyaki; I ate it numerous times at the Japanese restaurant, one of my favorites; I must say, come one try it, you won't regret it."

“Five minutes. Also, the argument couple RSVP’d. Separate chairs.” Marcus laughed. “Progress.” Staff meeting in the kitchen felt like church, plus knives. Rory stood on a crate. “Family,” he said, which meant everyone. “We’re approved—trial month. We do it careful. We do it kind. We do it like your mother is trying to nap upstairs.” Cheers. Pots clanged. Someone whistled the hymn. “And,” Rory added, glaring for no reason except tradition, “Copper Pot is sniffin’ around our block. I got two words: out-cook and out-love. That’s one word with a hyphen and another that’s a command.”

CARRIE The kitchen smelled divine hours later, after we've had our shower. A comforting mix of roasted tomatoes, garlic, and herbs lingered warmly in the air as I stood over the stove, stirring the final pot of what my late mom used to call ‘Rustic Harvest Stew’, a hearty blend of roasted carrots, tomatoes, and baby potatoes simmered slowly in a savory broth. It wasn’t anything fancy, but there was something deeply satisfying about cooking with vegetables we had just picked from our own garden.

I smiled to myself, assuming this was her attempt to keep her locks out of her face while cooking. Roxy was so absorbed in her culinary endeavors that she hadn't noticed my approach, a testament to my ability to move silently. I slid onto a stool at the bar, and my voice broke the quiet. "This smells amazing." Roxy spun around, her eyes sparkling with delight as they met mine.