Spicy Excerpts Novels & Stories

I am grateful for the respite, as no one seems to be paying attention to me. I pull my cell phone out of my bag and open the Kindle app. It's still a while before class starts, so I want to read a chapter first. I duck my head and look at my phone as I devour the words on the screen. I started a book last night , and by all the saints, I think this book is going to tear me apart by the end. The main character goes through so much and then the supposed hero makes her suffer too. I must have cried about a million times, especially when I got to the part of the book about her past. I haven't even finished it yet and I feel like I already have a book hangover.

THE SPICES sipped on his tongue as he eat the noodles. He went to the restaurant together with his two friends for their late dinner. They were the only customers during that time. The sound of their slurping could be heard clearly from the whole restaurant since it was quiet. It was accompanied by clanging utensils. Noah even gasped for air while fanning his mouth with his right hand. He couldn't handle the spiciness even though he chose the lowest level. Vivian on the other hand was eating carefully the regular noodles not to spill the soup on her shirt. She still made little noises no matter how hard she controlled it. Yric had no problem with his fiery noodles, he kept on biting the thin

I ordered my favorites and our food arrived so fast. I was drooling over the smoking hot spicy stew on a bowl and scooped a spoonful. “Delicious,” I mumbled after tasting it. He also tried the soup but he couldn’t take it. It was too spicy for his tongue and he always mentioned that the burning sensation he got from eating spicy food was always excruciating. “How can you enjoy something like this, Bethany?” He asked in disbelief. “Because I love it and I am used to it,” I replied, then a few moments of silence followed. Then, he informed me that we would return to Claybourne because of my condition.

I sneer right back making my way hastily to our table. I don’t like the attention she was attracting towards us; I could tell she was loving but me uh uh nope! As I sit, Sam and Justin are staring at me weirdly. “What?” I ask, kind of getting creeped out. I open my spaghetti and start stuffing my mouth, I’m kind of hungry because I didn’t eat breakfast. Now they’re just watching me eat, I have the strangest friends... “Y-yo-you just spoke up to Tiffany, when you have attention anxiety... and-and-” I cut off Sam’s babble with a groan.

The symphony of flavors dances upon her taste buds, transcending her into a world of pure bliss. Not one to shy away from bold flavors, Beatrice steers her breakfast adventure towards The Spicy Shack, a hidden gem renowned for its fiery morning delights. With a daring spirit, she orders a plate of huevos rancheros, adorned with zesty salsa and a sprinkle of fiery jalapeños. As the heat builds in her mouth, a twinkle of satisfaction lights up her eyes, knowing she has conquered yet another culinary challenge.

Léon Dinner unfolds in that strange intimacy. I answer her questions, name the spices, explain why risotto requires patience, why you never serve cheese with fish. She listens, grave, as if each piece of information is precious. She tastes, appreciates, closes her eyes when a flavor surprises her. I don't talk about my work. She doesn't ask. We're suspended, outside time, in this kitchen that has never been used, illuminated by virgin wax candles. When she finishes her plate, she sets her fork down carefully.

And knowing you as well as I do, I imagine it will have been quite a while since my passing before you finally open this letter. "We really did have something beautiful once, and that's why it hurts so much to know you've never loved me. I'm only writing to say one thing—thank you. For seven years, you let me believe in a beautiful dream. Now that it's over, it's time for me to go. Don't waste your time missing me." Conrad read my last note without showing a single flicker of emotion. Then, like a man hell-bent on punishing himself, he pored over the chat records I'd leaked to the paparazzi—reading them once, then twice, then again and again. He drowned in those messages from dusk till dawn.

The morning sun was too bright, a clinical light that exposed the cracks in the Manning facade. I had spent the early hours moving through the house like a ghost, cleaning the study with a calculated lack of thoroughness. I left a single, blonde hair on the leather chair-not mine, but one I'd plucked from Camille's brush-and a faint smear of my lipstick on the rim of Garrett's scotch glass. I wanted the friction between them to reach a boiling point. I wanted to see who would break first.

“Spicy… Temptation! That’s it. It’s mysterious, alluring… it screams ‘look at me’ without giving it all away.” “Spicy Temptation,” I repeated slowly, letting the words roll off my tongue. It felt bold. Dangerous, in the best way. Bree leaned closer, excitement bubbling in her voice. “Perfect. Now, let’s craft your bio. Something short, flirty, and… hot.” I watched her fingers fly over the screen. “A little taste of fire. A masked tease. Dancing my way into your fantasies. SPICY… the heat you didn’t know you needed.”

Sienna’s POV As I finally calm down, I sit there tearing up my jerk chicken, my jerk egg rolls, anything with heat, anything with spice, because that’s literally all I crave. This baby is about to come out with a full coat of hair the way these spices are tagging my esophagus. The heartburn is unreal, and Knox keeps telling me to stop eating spicy foods, but listen… it’s a habit at this point. And the wild part? Before I got pregnant, I couldn’t stand spicy foods. Now, from the flavor, to the burn, and the essence, yum yum yum. I’m a whole hypocrite.