Ii Taco Novels & Stories

She threw her head back, giving him a once-over. "Which is?” "Your name. What's your name?" "Tequila." she replied in a snap. He stared at her for a jiffty, his face breaking into a huge smile before he finally burst out laughing. She smiled too.his laughter was damn infectious. "Seriously?! " "My name is yara, it means a small butterfly." she said with a burgeoning excitement laced undertone. "It's a beautiful name" Toby remarked, still wearing a fond smile. "I guess so. Sister josie always told me that..." she trailed off, the excitement had gradually been replaced with a forlorn expression, a gloom silence had enveloped around them.

"Now, hurry up." "There, done," Cedric said as he stood up. "Let's go, loser." “What shall we order?” Kian muttered under his breath. He was struggling a bit because he’s never heard of such flavors before. ‘Spongebob bar? Iced Coconut? Choco Taco? What are these flavors? Don’t they have plain vanilla ice cream?’ he thought in his head. “The Choco Taco is my favorite, mister!” A cute voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked down to the direction of the voice and stared at the little kid who made the suggestion—a little kid that looked so much like Zeth.

Only after I’ve fully consumed that first taco do I begin talking. “So … what happened with Rebel?” I use some root beer to swish the meat grains from between my teeth. It’s some kind of miracle how the old T- Bell is able to provide me with meat the size and consistency of large sand granules like that. Respect, Mr. Bell, respect.

Adrian led me to a colorful truck with a sign that read “Taco Fiesta.” “Best tacos in town,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “Wow.” I hadn’t tasted it, but the aroma promised goodness. “I didn’t think you’d come to a place like this.” “Why? Because I’m a CEO?” “Well…” I shrugged, not sure how to voice my thoughts. He ordered some tacos, and we found a spot at a picnic table. Music played from somewhere behind the truck, keeping the night young and lively. We dug in, laughing and chatting like we’d known each other forever.

Izzy opens her container and starts in on her tacos, looking over at me every few minutes. "If you want to say something, Iz, just say it." I tell her as I finish the second taco and open the salsa for the chips. It tastes just like I remember, the fresh tomatoes and cilantro lingering on my taste buds. "It's not that I have something to say. More like an observation." She waits, takes another bite, and sets her taco down. "I think I just expected more of a reaction from you about this whole thing. Not like a full on emotional break down, becuase that's just not possible for you, but something. It doesn't even seem like your upset about Jack cheating."

Lexi felt a shiver run down her spine as their eyes met, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, the noise of the party fading into the background. Then, without breaking eye contact, the mysterious stranger smiled and raised his glass in a silent toast. Lexi felt her cheeks flush as she smiled back, feeling a spark of electricity that seemed to arc between them like a live wire. As the night wore on, Lexi found herself drawn to the stranger again and again, their conversations flowing easily as they talked about art, music, and life. She learned that his name was Julian Blackwood, and that he was the host of the gala, as well as a renowned art collector.

Marissa asked them. “We’ll make filipino-inspired tacos and mexican tacos, ma’am” Phoebe said. “Tacos.. What’s that?” Because of their anxiety they forgot how to describe it in English. They looked at Dawn. Dawn cleared her throat. “It’s a traditional Mexican dish consisting of a small hand-sized corn or wheat tortilla topped with a filling. The tortilla is then folded around the filling and eaten by hand. For our recipe we will be using cassava flour with mashed ube to make our tortillas and also regular flour. For our salsas which is sauce used as condiments for tacos and other Mexican and Mexican-American foods. It is also used as dips for tortilla chips. We will make two salsas. One spic

We pulled off the dirt road and onto no-man's-land, and Merrick turned toward the stores instead of the motel. "I'm starving." He shot me a sheepish grin and pulled into the drive- through of a little place called Eat Taco. "Did they forget the 's' at the end of 'Tacos'?" Merrick chuckled. "It's a running joke in the city that the Prices, the owners, had never eaten tacos when they opened this place and didn't know it needed to be plural. No one knows if it's true, but it keeps people coming back. Helps that it's the only drive-through in no-man's-land."

“Now you’re addicted just like the rest of us.” I could barely say anything as I munched into the taco, lost in the tastes that were swirling around in my mouth. It was the best taco I’d ever tasted, and I already knew I would be coming back for more. “So,” I said halfway through a mouthful, “how did you guys end up in LA?”

He was talking a hundred miles a minute and had to tell me everything Owen had showed him. Owen took my hand in his as we walked back inside and we beelined straight into the kitchen to eat. Marie had us pull right up to the big bar area and grab a barstool while she sat a tray of several styles of street tacos in front of us. She pointed out each to me. There was a steak and elote, an al pastor, one she called birria and fish tacos with a fresh mango slaw. They all looked and smelled amazing and was unlike anything I had ever tasted before.