Strawberry Cookie Run Novels & Stories

“We aren't over, Rhia baby. Remember you agreed to be my bodyguard for the next twenty four hours if I teach you my secret in making these.” Like a predator teasing his prey, he slowly brings out small chunks of transparent foil wrapped pink cakes from his leather jacket. The aroma of strawberries instantly fills the air between us. Strawberry cakes….. My stomach grumbles quietly, and I rub over it with gentle strokes, swallowing the saliva forming in my mouth down my throat. Maybe I should not have skipped breakfast this morning due to my overexcitement. Rhia's eyes fall on the cakes in Kian's palms, and I can swear I saw her own throat bob up and down at the delicious sight.

Zach’s eyes scanned the invite and a familiar scent hit him. This year, however, was different. Whispers had reached his ears, whispers suggesting that a certain runaway might make an appearance. His runaway. The thought sent a thrill of anticipation through him, a dark excitement that bordered on mania. He had spent five long years tracking her, his anger simmering just below the surface, and his obsession only growing stronger with each passing day. Now, the hunt was about to end. He called for his Beta, Damon, a massive wolf with a scarred snout and a loyalty that ran as deep as the earth. "Damon," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "Prepare everything. We leave at once."

Getting Laurette Brisk, the famous lifestyle influencer, to agree to partner with me to relaunch my own beauty line was something out of the movies. So when she suggested we meet, I didn’t mind being given a time and venue. Oakville was about a hundred and twenty miles away from my new home, yet I didn’t mind. Once I saw the sign indicating that I’d arrived at Oakville, I felt like shedding tears of joy. I was just a few minutes away from realizing my dream. I had just passed almost twenty minutes of absolute nothing, just endless rolling hills and soybean fields and occasional dilapidated buildings when I realized my car needed gas.

Outside, loud music blasted—a tradition when our group of friends gathered. I screamed and shouted, but no one heard my cries. As he smeared sticky saliva over my face, all I could do was struggle to grab a lamp from the bedside desk, smashing it over his head. Then, I made a run for it, stumbling towards the window. Jeremy was like a monster, relentlessly chasing me after he recovered. I threw myself over the windowsill, and as I hit the ground, I clearly felt warm blood gushing out between my legs, as if a life was slipping away.

Inside sits a bed, with fuzzy blankets and pillows. The roof has a clear square, like a skylight, so that the moon can shine on us. A table sits inside with chocolate-covered strawberries and pretzels. Sparkling apple cider sits in an ice bucket. Xander abstains and I haven’t touched alcohol since moving to Silver Run.

He rushed downstairs and suddenly threw himself toward Amanda, who was holding the long straw, pretending to fall. And in that instant, the straw snapped completely in half.

Disgusted by the used condom, I gagged and nearly puked on the spot. I flung it out of the car window. When I looked down again, I spotted a shining object on the carpet. My heart sank as I picked it up. It was a single earring. A chill ran down my spine. Without a doubt, it belonged to the woman James had slept with. With a pale face and trembling fingers, I shoved the earring into my bag. At that moment, James opened the car door and jiggled the box of dessert in his hand. Sounding cheerful, he chirped, "Darling, I got your favorite dessert. Take it to the café and share it with Sally."

Meat and carbs are a werewolf’s best friend when planning to run any distance, whether for training or running away. “Food smells good,” Alex says as he enters the kitchen from the back door. A plateful of cookies and another with sliced garlic bread were already on the table, ready to be devoured. I bring the hot lasagna out of the oven and settle the tray between the two plates. “Yeah, come on and dig in.” I laugh at my friend's enthusiasm for food. [Laina, the Doctor and I can’t come over today, we have urgent pack business at the pack house. Stay inside!]

I had always needed too much reassurance, and for three years, Dante Romano had given it to me. Whenever he came home late or failed to answer his phone, I imagined the worst. And whenever I couldn’t sleep, I made him leave whatever he was doing and come home to me. During one of those needy episodes, strange lines of text appeared before my eyes. 【The Don of the Romano family is handling family business. You really think he has time to put you to bed?】 【She’s only an ordinary woman he kept because she looks like Bianca DeLuca.】 【The real Bianca is coming back from Europe. Once she does, this substitute is finished.】 Suddenly, Dante’s patience no longer felt like love. It felt like tolerance

“Are you heading out?” “No? I came looking for you.” “I need to do another tray of these cookies,” she says. “I’m almost out up front, and they’re a popular seller.” “Cookies,” I say, pinning her with a look. “Cookies,” she replies. “Cranberry macadamia nut with white chocolate. You can try one when they come out of the oven if you want.” Autumn makes a show of evenly spacing each scoop of cookie dough, giving it all her focus like it’s the most important thing she’s ever done. She’s obviously trying to pretend everything is fine, acting cheerful and light, but she still won’t look at me.