Kitchen Wizard Block Tales Novels & Stories

Rejected. "He will be quiet, do not mind him." the wizard said. "Just keep on reading your book." Taegen just cleared his throat and took a sip of the tea. Ruvyn looked at Jimmy and smiled. "Eat," he whispered. Jimmy nodded shyly as he looked at the Wizard's shiny purple eyes that had the power to make you feel happy during a moment. He lifted his head to see what was on the table. "Woah," he mumbled quietly to himself when he saw all the different dishes prepared only for breakfast. The table was filled with colours and luxurious pastry; Caramel apple cinnamon rolls, stuffed toasts, cranberry orange pancakes...

“I have a good healer,” he led me through the ground floor of the castle. “She’s normally in the kitchens.” “In the kitchens?” I repeated. “Apparently they’re the perfect place for brewing up potions. You would know. You’re a mage.” “I have never willingly stepped foot in a kitchen in my life, except to steal food or wine. Any potion that requires cooking, just hasn’t had someone motivated enough to work around that aspect.”

He couldn't believe though that he was running away from his wife. Zach marched into the kitchen few minutes after Meg had entered. He stood besides the door and placed his hand on the silk plastered wall. The kitchen was quite impressive. Grandma Lois's kitchen is a masterpiece of elegance and luxury. As the mother of a personal assistant to Mr. Winston, the richest man in the city, she has access to some of the most opulent interior designs and furnishings. Her kitchen boasts a variety of rich, high-end features that elevate the space to a level of sophistication that few can match.

The floor is polished and shiny; I can almost see my reflection in it. As I continue exploring, I reach the kitchen. Everything is made of steel and marble; each appliance seems to be state-of-the-art, and the cabinets are so neatly organized that it seems like every item has found its perfect place. In the center, a spacious island invites cooking. I imagine making a cheesecake for Wolfgang; Magda once told me he loves it. I smile at the thought.

Miya found cooking very therapeutic, especially baking. She also baked two cakes, one looking like an angry dragon and the other a gentle fairy hidden in a little forest. When Xenon arrived at the dining room, he noticed the cakes first. He was impressed at first, then he looked a bit annoyed and said with a sneer. "A very angry dragon. What is it going to do with the frightened fairy ?" Miya didn't expect Xenon to interpret her thoughts. Worried, she tried to justify herself

“Ariadne came up with a good one.” Kane proceeded to tell me some fairytale involving a mage, tons of ice and probably a pack of lies if the spell weaver’s relative came calling. I interrupted him, not bothering to conceal my impatience and irritation. “I meant Lisa,” I said, savagely cutting a triangle of buttered toast in two before smothering it in a thick substance containing peel and which bore the aroma of Seville oranges. “Wow, this is to die for.” “See what I have to put up with.”

"I am not going to hurt you.'' She nodded more to herself, then followed him in the direction of the kitchen. When they finally made it there, October was in awe of the array of stainless steel appliances, glass countertops, wooden cabinets and tables. We made the floor and entire walls of the kitchen of marble. Alistair began searching through the cupboards, then turned to her. ''Do you like pancakes?'' "Yes,'' October replied in a small voice. "Do you even know how to cook?" She asked a little louder. Alistair made a small hissing sound. "I might be king, but I know my way around the kitchen." "King?" "Hmm," was all he said. October watched Alistair as he prepared her breakfast, fascinated

The kitchen wasn’t designed for chaos. It was sleek, the space of marble counters, dark wood cabinetry, and floor-to-ceiling windows that spilled light across the polished floor. But chaos had found its way inside anyway that too in the form of Lucian Blackwell, who was holding a whisk like it was a weapon. “Lucian,” Isla said, voice caught between amusement and despair, “you don’t stab the eggs.” He scowled at the bowl, elegant brows furrowing in concentration. “I wasn’t stabbing.”

Pushing my chair backwards with a loud screech, I advanced towards my kitchen to make lunch, but I met Killan there, showing off his strangely excellent cooking skills when he'd burnt my pancakes the first time he got here. He was shirtless, his taut muscles flexing, his silver hair kissed by the soft ray of the sun seeping through the windows. “I thought you'd never step out of your room, Master.“ His lips tilted, his dark eyes still fixed on the meal he was preparing. “Tell me, what are you researching on?“ “Nothing.“ I said a little too quickly, grabbing a bottle of water to reduce the tension pressing against my chest. Opening up the cap, I took a large sip and placed it on the kitchen i

But a familiar figure appeared. A sweet young lady. She had been introduced to Rafe and me upon our arrival, and she was the granddaughter of the grandma who had owned this house. "Hey, what are you doing down there?" I asked her gently, noticing her shy demeanor. She was holding various unusual grasses in her hands. They seemed to have been freshly picked. "I'm making a pretend meal," she replied innocently. The setup was not a typical play kitchen. Quickly, she grabbed a coconut shell, filled it with water, and placed it on a make-believe stove.