Robin Cook Books Novels & Stories

I patted my full belly and let out a satisfied burp. I praised the air. “Not bad. Keep it up tomorrow.” Then, I left for work. When I returned home in the evening, the aroma of a home-cooked meal washed over me the moment I pushed the door open. Another home-cooked dinner was waiting on the table. It was a spread of pot roast with gravy, garlic-sauteed spinach, macaroni and cheese, and a hearty vegetable soup. Once again, with zero self-restraint, I polished off every last bite.

Upon entering the kitchen, I was immediately greeted by the rich aroma of whatever Robin was cooking. She was hunched over the stove, her brow furrowed in concentration as she stirred a pot. The sizzling sound of cooking filled the room, mingling with the soft hum of the refrigerator.

There were candles and rose petals everywhere. I smiled wryly. When did Robin prepare this? I didn't know he had a romantic side in his bones. While eating, Robin asked me a lot of questions like where I've been all this time. However, I couldn't tell him a thing or two. "I... I can't tell you yet, Robin." He looked dejected and frowned. "I understand. You can tell me when you're ready." However, I can tell he was slightly upset. The atmosphere suddenly feels awkward. I just couldn't tell him. Would he believe me if I said I'm a divine beast? I doubt it.

My gaze wandered over the spines, and my heart skipped a beat as I spotted a familiar title nestled between two larger books - my own book, its silver spine glinting in the soft light of the room. As Roxy disappeared into her room, I took the opportunity to explore the rest of the apartment. I wandered into the kitchen area, and my eyes widened in surprise. The kitchen was a culinary paradise, fully stocked with an impressive array of cookware, utensils, and gadgets. Every available surface was adorned with jars of spices, baskets of fresh ingredients, and cookbooks that seemed to span every cuisine imaginable. It was clear that Roxy had a passion for cooking, and that this kitchen was her h

Mind you, she wasn’t a very good cook, but she had improved drastically in the two months I’d been teaching her. Jacki’s primary job was to keep the house clean and to provide me with some much-needed company, not that she would admit to the second part. “Another family meeting?” She chuckled, her laughter warm and comforting after a long night. “You two and your secret notes.” Along the countertop sat a bunch of various cookbooks, all themed in some way. At the front was my favorite, the first book Elijah had ever gifted me. The antique looking cookbook, themed after witches and wizards, was what propelled me into my passion for baking.

Easing around me, she collects ingredients from the pantry, emerging a moment later to set them on the counter beside the cookbook. “Sounds good. Is this your grandmother’s cookbook?” Holding her place, I skim the neat, handwritten pages before and after, pleased at how well I can read the, large, clear, almost bottom-heavy print. I start to wonder if Grace isn’t so adept as a teacher because she’s grown up seeing and understanding needs like mine from some of her family. “Chive and nettle. Beet. Cheddar bacon. I never knew there were so many kinds of muffins.” Returning to my side with a large bowl, Grace giggles. “Yes, the cookbook is my grandmother’s. You’d have to flip through it, but ma

I pick them up and turn to leave then stop after tasting the blend. Who taught you this recipe? I saw it in the cabinet, last night after cleaning up she says passing a small booklet to me, I put the things down on the counter and take the booklet and scan through it, it’s Stormie’s hand writing with page after page of recipes and things I like and my dislikes. I can’t help but smile and pass it back to her, keep making my meals according to what is written in this book, please and thank you. Yes sir I take my food and leave, Rob takes me to the office and when I get up to my floor Jeff is already there although the others have yet to arrive.

"I used a chocolate wine to sauté the chicken. "Interesting. I love what it does to the taste." Dad winked at Brynne. "So you're a gourmet?" "Thank you, but not really a gourmet. I enjoy it and learned to cook for my dad when my parents split. I have these marvelous cookbooks by Rhonda Plumhoff on my e-reader. She links her recipes to popular books. She's famous from where I'm from. I just adore her recipes." He tilted his head at me. "Smart son I raised."

"Well, then shall we eat?" Asked Laurelyn reaching for her fork. The other two followed pursuit and too began eating their portions. Stabbing a fork into the green Robin brought it to her lips. The other woman watched with intent eyes as the latter began chewing and then swallowing her food. A sinister smile graced her lips as she calmly reached for her glass. "So then, Robin, what is it that you do?" "Oh, um, I'm an IT expert specialising in coding and software function. I run a small It firm but I am working on growing it"

"Let's start with appetizers." June's midnight blue orbs scanned one of the hard back books that weren't open yet but laid off to the side of the desk, picking up it's title in the process; FOOD FOR ALL. Written in lowercase alphabets beneath it were the words; well detailed cook book, a must have for every chef. She reached forth and grabbed the book. Almira too lost in the book she had to notice.