Wizard Cookie Novels & Stories

Then again it was not surprising given her past experiences and Merlia could only hope that her friend would find someone who could help her truly break out of her shell. “Okay so we need to give him and he’ll instantly fall in love with me?” Morgana asked with a curious look as she observed the mini sweet cake that had small white frosting on top of it. Just looking at it made her feel hungry enough to think of sneaking a bite, but refrained herself from doing so knowing that it would be unwise for so many reasons. Just knowing that they placed a seriously strong spell in the cake sent gleeful shivers down her spine. Knowing that they had to give it to the prince and no one else, otherwise

Martha explained. “Are you saying I am a witch?” I inquired, feeling the need to know more. “Not a witch, probably a wizard,” Cookie replied, staring at me. “Witches are for girls.”

I felt bad with all the news I was only bombarded her with and filling up her table. I wait for my mother to come back from the kitchen, fetching some brownies she'd been making for her chronic pain before we got here and wanting to tell her Bahm was also a wizard. ☽☽☽☽☽✦☾☾☾☾☾ Bahm's P.O.V "Ahh.. Half Dark Wizard, Half Werewolf.. Hmm...Thats an interesting mix." Hunnie's mother says after handing Hunnie and I some of the chocolate brownies she retrieved. They smelled good and tasted very rich.

“Kieran, what do you want? I’ll pay.” His eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “No, it’s fine- I don’t want anything.” He never gets any of the food here. When he first started visiting me, he used to try out the menu, but he didn’t like any of it. He never told me, but when a sugar-addict doesn’t buy the little cakes in a café, you can assume his opinion. “We can share the fries, then,” Lucas decides, taking both menus and handing them to me. “Thank you,” he adds.

"He knows everything big that happens. He's next in line, ya know." "You're right," noted Waverly. "But personally…" She leaned in closer to the kids who gathered around her, bringing her voice to a whisper. "I think the Crimson Wolf is a wizard in disguise." The kid stepped back, shocked. "Whoa… I never thought of that." "You never think of nothin', Tristian," responded the third boy. "Hey! Take it back!" The third boy grinned. "How 'bout I race ya instead? Last one to the peak of the hilltop is fried dog!"

Everyone stared at me, I fixed my eyeglass and sipped my coffee again. "Ohoh! Good judgment lady, only a few know that the cookie was blended with wine. The wine used was from the most known brand in the continent, The Watson." The Master excitedly stated. "Ohoh! I have a bottle, would you like to have a taste too? I bet your country doesn't have this one, ohoh!" He added and immediately ran outside the room and I guess looking for his bottle of wine. Good timing too, I am missing the taste of wine in my mouth.

Especially matching the color palette. After admiring for a bit, I headed back inside, not wanting to chance running into Vlad. My phone was buzzing when I came back in. Grabbing it, I narrowed my eyes at the multitude texts coming in. It was from the unknown number Wizard usually texted me from. Every message was ‘get on’ and I replied hold on a second. Heading up stairs, I slipped into Marek’s office and pulled up his computer. Typing in the usually connect address, the moment I pulled it up, Wizard started to type.

A world map had been unrolled and pinned to the far wall with kitchen knives—because push pins were apparently too civilized. Cheyenne paced, barefoot, a half-eaten cookie in one hand and her phone in the other. She’d already answered five texts, three calls, and at least one semi-coherent voicemail from a witch in Iceland who claimed she saw a “blonde horse goddess galloping through the mist like a sign from Freya.”

His tall, solid frame hovered behind me like some expensive, intimidating bodyguard, forcing me to do a weird shoulder wiggle just to fish my wallet out of my crossbody. “Vanilla,” he said flatly. I snorted. “Of course you’d pick the most basic flavor known to man.” Without waiting for his rebuttal, I ordered one matcha for myself and one scoop of existential crisis, aka plain vanilla, for Mr. Predictable over here. The ice cream guy smiled, but his eyes were bugging out, probably wondering if we were a couple, or if this was some kind of very aggressive TikTok date. Or maybe he was just intimidated by Julian’s chest doing its version of a power pose.

Tony said gruffly, then winked down at Gemma. “Please, guys. I just ate one of Mom’s cinnamon rolls,” Kyle groaned. “I bet you ate the middle one too, didn’t you?” Gemma teased. “Don’t worry, she made a whole cake pan.” “Good. The middle ones are my favorite ones.” “Too bad Dad ate the other one,” Kyle replied. Gemma let out an exaggerated groan and pretended to faint. “But I need that one," she whined. "It has the most frosting, and they’re never as done as the ones on the outside,”