Slow Burner Novels & Stories

“First reason of course is safety.” “Another reason is short-circuit.” "Yes, short circuit. That's why we need something that could operate on low power. And, Lani has a small induction stove." She made a small gesture with her hands. "Really small~" she said cutely. It was clear that she really liked it. They observed Opal for some seconds silently. “Relax. We have done it before. We are good at this. Really.” She gave her most charming smile she could summon to calm Opal down.

I said to him and he nodded at me. “Fire, blue fire works best for witches, it starts to burn them from the inside,” he said to me. “I’ve never used blue fire before, just green and red,” I said to him. “It works basically the same, but I’ll teach you the words. I’ve never used them, because I don’t want to feel the burning afterwards, you should really consider not doing it,” Bryan said to me. “If the option is there not to use it, I won’t. Last time wasn’t so nice,” I said to him and he laughed at me.

Her friends huddled together, the heat from the flames making them sweat. She was burning through the oxygen around them and they would start suffocating soon. Then, Nicholas handed his spear to Matthias and threw his own fire with hers. The bright blue she’d seen back at Shipton was equally as hot but there was a vibrancy that hers didn’t have. It weaved itself around her flames like a bright serpent and blended itself into the wall of fire until it was only white.

But the neutral expression on Hunter's face is not helping. Umm..now what? ________________

I can’t spend the next six months in a ball. “Have they got the boiler working yet?” No answer, just the rise and fall of my guards cup as he steadily sipped the scalding liquid. If I wasn’t so hungry I’d be tempted to try and spill some of the liquid on him, see if he can even feel. “Well. If they haven’t, one of the biggest problems we used to have was going too quickly. You have to be super slow and gentle with those machines.” He stopped sipping, the cup miniscule in his grip.

Without a word, he hurriedly left the dorm, leaving me wondering about the urgency of the situation. I took a moment to tidy up before preparing a meal. I had grown tired of surviving on just cereal for the past few weeks. However, in a moment of absentmindedness, I grabbed the handle of a pot without realizing it was hot. Pain shot through me, and I let out a yelp while flailing my hand to alleviate the burn. Rushing to the faucet, I poured cool water over my now reddened hand.

The moment I saw that electric slow cooker, the pain of being burned to death washed over me again. Even though our relationship had soured pretty badly, Stuart continued to act as if nothing had happened. He came over and bumped into my shoulder as if we were friends. "Look, Benson! I got an electric slow cooker. I'll make some soup for you later, so that we can warm up to each other again. We're roommates, after all. We're going to be living together for a long time. You can use my electric slow cooker whenever you want. I genuinely consider you my friend!"

"This burner runs differently than the others." She came and looked at the burner. "You've been using the left front burner," she said. "Yes." "Use the right front. It's more consistent." She stepped back. "I figured that out in November." I looked at her. "You know which burner runs consistently," I said. "I know which burner I use for things that need precise heat." She went back to the doorway. "Try again." I cleaned the pan and started again. Right front burner. The heat steadier immediately. I could feel the difference before the butter went in.

*"Nanny says a high flame is for lazy Alphas who want charcoal biscuits. You have to keep it low. Low and slow, Daddy! And you only flip them when the bubbles pop and stay open. If you flip too early, they turn into mush!" I let out a breathless, quiet chuckle to myself, a rush of fierce affection tightening my throat. I dialed the stove burner down to a precise medium-low. *Low and slow, Rosie.* I whisked the batter until it was perfectly smooth, then ladled a neat circle onto the heated, buttered skillet. I stood over the stove, my shirtless torso leaning slightly forward as I watched the surface of the batter. I waited, counting the seconds, until the tiny bubbles began to break the surfa

This was unnecessary but it was nice to have him fussing over me. “It is a ghost flame cooker. The gas that produces the flame is an eco-friendly flame that burns clear or almost white. If there are particles in the fire, you will see a red or orange flame.” His face looked stern as he explained. The tenderness in his touch and the concern in his eyes. My heart was pounding in my chest. Was I falling for this man all over again? “How is your hand?” He asked, finally pulling my fingers from the cold running water. The redness had gone down and all that was left was a little stinging.