Muy Picano Novels & Stories

"I've always preferred the heat." As the meal winds down, the restaurant fills with the boisterous energy of Little Italy, but their table remains an island. Elias repeats the word 'piccante'—spicy—until Mia finally nods in approval. "You have a good ear," she says, her gaze lingering on the planes of his face. "I've been listening to you for months, Mia. I know the cadence of your voice better than my own." The confession is raw, unadorned. It hits her harder than the chili ever could.

Nicko's POV Lunch. Finally, lunch. I'm starving and everything hurts. Uncle Pedro is ruthless! He spilled a whole barrel of wine and he made me scoop it up with a dustpan just to tell me to go drain it in the vineyard. I got wasted. He speaks in fluent rapid Italian and I miss so many words because I'm more fluent in Greek. He refuses to speak English. I hate that man.

he said coldly and wore his sunglasses and continued to keep watching although he couldn't see them now but ye was going to wait for his men to do what he told them to do *** "Are you kidding, Mr Casanova this isn't a picnic but some restaurant"so was with a surprised expression seeing just how much food stuff Emiliano had taken including a little tent for Diego filled with pillows and all sorts of soft comfy things. She couldn't believe he called it a picnic

Villafuerte and his perfect, white teeth. While they were stealing glances of the sponsor, which the sponsor was completely aware of and gave small smiles and shy waves of his hand a few times, I concentrated on my plate of maja blanca kuya Ronny prepared. I knew it was his. He was the only person in Paki-bato who could burn his maja blanca. “He must be a star,” Maring cooed. “Why do you think that?” I asked. “He tops Enrique Gil,” she firmly said.

Confused because no one usually uses that spot in a heavy rain. He was wearing a black hoodie. Occasionally puffing smoke from his cigarette with his right hand. While the other remained tucked inside his hoodie's pocket. There was a long moment of silence. Then he stares at the sky. "It's raining cats and dogs tonight. You can have my umbrella if you want." This guy tosses his cigarette on the ground and steps on it. While his other hand still remained in his pocket. "Thanks but no thanks my pad is just a walking distance from here. Have a good night."

“Who killed your parents and siblings?” “Picolo Alverez.” Harry replied, leaving Debby to wonder who the man could be. “Picolo Alverez happens to be a family friend. He was my father’s best friend and is popularly known as the prince of Mexico. He is a drug lord and underground boss. When I was young, he was one of the few I looked up to. Knowing that he killed my parents is a shocker to me.” Harry had been certainly dumbfounded since the incident. He couldn’t think straight as he wondered why Alverez killed father.

But a common client came to the barn with a shrieking peregrine. “Pancho Mariano, what happened to this little guy?” the barn owner asked all worried. He didn't take back calling his name like that although this friend of him is also called in his full name, Mr. Pancho Mariano Panes. Mariano is just a second name, not his surname.

“Twelve, to be exact.” “Twelve?” The word barely leaves my lips before the full weight of it hits me. I gape at him, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Are you insane? You expect me to push twelve pups out of my vagi—” “Yes.” His voice is so deadpan, so matter-of-fact, that it makes my head spin. There’s no hint of humour in his expression, just a quiet, unyielding certainty that sends my mind reeling.

Now I am only looking forward. I’m looking forward, starting with Canary and Sin turning into wolves today. I’m out by the smoker with Rebel and we are having a blast cooking and talking through the menus with my mother. My mother is chopping tomatoes and serrano peppers to make fresh pico de gallo. Mia is mixing masa to make tortillas, and I am peeling plantains to boil and make into mufungo. Aiden comes down and sees all of us cooking, “Damn, it smells good out here, ladies.”