Mrs Muffins Novels & Stories

Gina said as she collected the glass of milk from Juliet. Gina, who had skipper lunch and spent most of her energy crying, felt her stomach growl in protest when the wonderful scent of the freshly baked muffin wafted across her nostrils... she swallowed as she travelled to the muffin was placed on the table in front of her... juliet helped her grandmother take a seat on her favourite chair and then helped herself to some muffin without asking if gina wanted one...

Probably both. I cleared my throat. “Hey…” Still no response. My hands scratched the back of my neck awkwardly. Damn, she was mad mad. I stepped all the way in, holding up the little paper bag in my hand. “I brought you muffins. The chocolate chip ones you like. And that weird berry one you say tastes like childhood.” She paused for a second. Just a little second. I knew she heard me. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard like she wanted to say something. But then she kept typing again.

I announced, the words muffled around the massive bite of apple I took from the counter. Right on cue, Mrs. Harlan bustled into the kitchen from the side door, her apron tied neat and her gray hair pulled back in that perfect bun she always wore. She’d been with us since before I could remember—part grandma, part drill sergeant, and the only person who could make blueberry French toast. “Morning, everyone,” she greeted, already heading for the fridge. “Miss Saraphina, would you like me to prepare breakfast for you?” Mom finally peeled herself away from Dad’s side and came around the marble island. “That won’t be necessary! We can have Joanne make something. Saraphina, how about your favorite

Not including his curses and a deep punishing kiss that makes my lips tickle even now. "Aura," Mom's sweet voice tore me off my devilish husband's thoughts. "Shall we bake muffins and croissants today?" "I will go pull out the ingredients, Ma." Winking at her, I hopped to my feet as there were not enough clothes left to fold. Ma joined me in the kitchen after ten minutes. She mixed the batter of the muffins in a large bowl as I worked on the cream. Outside the kitchen, we could hear Rosario and Brian talking to Anna in a baby voice.

The security guard at the gates spoke through, "Hello, is Mr. Zhao there? Miss Jiang is here to see him, but I have strict instructions not to let her in and she is refusing to leave." Qing Shan turned to Zhi Rou who was taking out the first batch of muffins. The smell of orange and poppy seeds infused together made him shudder. She placed the muffins on a cooling rack then proceeded to place the Granadilla-flavoured muffins into the oven.

“What! I can’t do that, its hard” “Aw come on it’s not that bad. Lets use a good old trick shall we?” He looks around till he sees a girl. She looked like a model, what does she eat grass? focus Summer! He walks towards her but not so far so i can’t hear. “hey..” he trails off. “Marissa”

"But how could you ask your supervisor to publicly criticize me online? I've been swarmed with insults! You're so cruel!" "Zora, we're family. How could you do this to your sister?" Mom chimed in disapprovingly. Turning back to Laila, Mom patted her back gently and cooed, "Don't cry, sweetheart. You'll hurt yourself. I'll make your sister apologize to you!"

Failing miserably. “You don’t have to pretend to know anything about pastries,” Evelyn said. Jesse straightened. “I know plenty. For example, this one is… probably bread.” “That’s a scone.” “Scone. Right. Got it.” Aunt Maren emerged from the kitchen with a tray of muffins. “If you’re done flirting, I could use help setting these out.” Evelyn choked on air. Jesse turned an impressive shade of red. “We’re not ... we weren’t ... he’s just....” Evelyn sputtered.

Realising she was getting uncomfortable, I seized the opportunity to ask her questions that would make her leave. "Tell me about your folks, who they are and what they do," I said before taking a bite of the muffin. I had to pause at that moment. Indeed, it was delicious. Nothing like I have had before, and I have eaten a lot of them. It wasn't too fluffy, neither was it rock hard; it wasn't dry. It was moist, the sweetness wasn't sharp, and there was some tartness to it. I couldn't explain it, but it was delicious. I knew I closed my eyes before I could even control myself.

Painted in that exact, sickeningly sweet shade: Soft Nude Pink. “She’s a rising socialite,” Sophie whispered, her voice sharp and grounding. “A ‘consultant’ for several tech firms—which is just code for being the woman powerful men take to out-of-town trips when they’re bored with their perfect lives. She’s been seen at the tower three times this month. She goes by her first name in public, but her middle name starts with an M.”