Solangelo Spicy Novels & Stories

The plan was ruined. Four people barbecuing—double the romance. As always, Sydney and Julian took their usual seats. Tiffany sat across from Sydney, which left Raymond beside her, opposite Julian. Raymond pulled out a brand-new grill from Julian's kitchen. "I bought a few different sauces. Which two do you want?" Sydney remembered that Raymond couldn't handle spice. She was about to speak when Tiffany smiled and said, "Spicy chipotle and fiery ghost pepper." The words caught in Sydney's throat.

Sounds good? I forced a smile. "That's wonderful. And I've got something special for you too." Conrad and I wouldn't be celebrating any anniversaries after this one. I'd let him have his little victory.

Instantly, my mouth was on fire - the numbing spiciness nearly made me choke. I hadn't even seen Luke struggle with the heat yet, and here I was, already failing! Luke noticed my distress and passed me some water. "They import their chilies directly from Sichuan. Their extra hot is what they call 'demon level.' Usually only food bloggers attempt it." Me: !! Why didn't he warn me!

His lips didn’t pucker, no flinching, no sweating—none of the usual human reactions to extreme spiciness. “Is he… a robot?” Jeslyn muttered under her breath. “Mmm,” Leonel hummed with a nod. “Interesting. There's a spicy kick to it. New experiment?” Jeslyn’s eyes widened. What?! He likes it?! “Uh… yeah,” she answered quickly, almost reflexively. “It’s… a new variant. Hellfire Lava Dessert.” Leonel smirked. “Nice name. Fits a woman like you.” “A woman like me?” Jeslyn raised a brow.

"Hello, has my order been started?" "Madam, your order is ready for delivery. It will arrive in about ten minutes," the waiter replied politely. "Please include some extra condiment packets," Melanie said nonchalantly. "Sure. May I ask what flavor you prefer?" "I love the spicy flavor. The insanely spicy one," Melanie pronounced each word decisively. "Alright. I'll add some extra chili oil for you," the waiter responded, slightly puzzled. After all, the dishes the lady ordered were light. Why would she want it to be insanely spicy?

“This is an insult to Pozole Rojo. Who the hell shared that recipe?” After a long moment, he swallowed hard and reluctantly popped it into his mouth — and instantly, a fiery, terrifying heat shot straight up to his brain! He spat it out violently, gulped water like crazy, rolled his eyes, and shouted, “Holy crap! What is this thing? Are you trying to kill me?! It’s so damn spicy! And what do you mean ‘just a little salty’? How much salt did you dump in here?!”

Her distorted reflection flickered across the chrome surface, warping and twisting as the coils began to glow. With a cheerful pop, the toast sprang up. “Here you go, Erica,” Louisa said proudly, plating the steaming snacks. “My famous grilled-cheese mini pizzas!” Erica raised a brow. “What is this?” “Everything a growing girl needs,” Louisa said with a wink. “Capsicum, tomato, and just a hint of hot spices.” “Really?” “Oh yeah. I love it spicy. Real hot. Can you handle it?” Erica smirked. “Yeah, of course I can.”

This was my favorite place in all of New York, not just because the booze was cheap, but they also serve the best chili in the world. I could easily spot Marissa’s flaming red hair right from the entrance. Her natural hair color was the palest of blonde’s and it tended to make her face look paler too, so she dies it a flaming red to look more vibrant and quite frankly, it matches her personality pretty well. “Sunny!” Mary waved me over as soon as she spotted me. She was sitting on a bar stool, next two a couple other guys who at first didn’t appear familiar until I got close to them.

I descended the last few steps and approached the island. He pulled out a stool for me, his hand hovering near my waist until I was seated. The smell of the arrabbiata was intoxicating, bright, spicy, and rich. "Eat," he said, hovering over me for a second before taking his own seat. "I put extra chili in. I want to see if you can handle the heat, or if you're just as soft as the tabloids say." I took a bite, the spice hitting the back of my throat instantly. It was searing, painful, and incredible. It forced me to be present. It forced me to feel something other than the hollow ache in my ribs.

She slurped that thing down like it was a cup of jello and not the plate of inferno that it was. "Are you ok?" I ask, finally getting back my ability of speech. She gives me a thumb up, her lips still wrapped around the carton of milk. Her lips leave the mouth of the milk with a pop. "What was in that shit? Hellfire?" I fumble through the dustbin, fishing out the empty pack and reading the back. Manufactured by... Blah blah blah. My face blanches as I go over the line I just skimmed past, making sure I read it correctly. "It is considered one of the hottest noodles ever. A raging ball of fire. Advisable not to use all the pack of flavor in it." I let it slip through my fingers and back into