What Is A Bun And How Is It Used In Baking?

Melody is tired of love and has her sights set on growing her business after her divorce. Sure, it’s odd for a werewolf to run a bakery, but who wouldn’t want to focus on work when your best friend is caught having sex with your husband in your storage room? Now that the divorce is final and her mate bond dissolved, she can focus on running the only bakery in her pack. With her striving to get the word out on her bakery, she has no time for drama—or bikers. Teddy is out looking for a good time—and a good dessert. With no ties to any pack, his rogue gang of motorcycle werewolves travels from town to town, causing mayhem and partying hard. When he has the sudden urge for something sweet as his motorcycle gang rolls through a small town, he stops at a small bakery next to their favorite bar. He is hit with the smell of fresh-baked goodness that he could eat all day long, and the sight of the owner leaves him craving more than just dessert. When they are both dragged into a war, secrets and plots are uncovered; changing their lives in unexpected ways. Friends and alliances change, as priorities shift for the both of them; dragged into roles neither wanted, but now both must accept.

On our wedding anniversary, I wanted to drive out and buy a cake to celebrate. But the moment I got into the car, I noticed the driver's seat had been pushed forward. There were also a few bread crumbs scattered inside. I called my husband. "Has anyone been driving my car lately?" His voice carried unmistakable guilt. "My cousin borrowed it yesterday for the whole day. Why?" His cousin was six-foot-three—twice my size. More importantly, he was severely allergic to wheat and avoided pastries like the plague. I let out a soft laugh, hung up, and drove straight to the bakery my husband had been frequenting lately. Inside, a sweet-looking girl was chatting and giggling with her coworker. "So what if I'm short? I have to move the seat all the way forward when I drive, but at least someone spoils me!" The moment she saw me, her carefree smile vanished, replaced by panic. I crossed my arms and tilted my head as I looked at her. Lucas had always told me I was too tall—not quite his preferred type. Looks like he'd finally found himself a petite little lover.

My mother sells special éclairs. Each one costs a thousand dollars, but the female customers fight each other to buy them. They look like they can't get enough. My sister wants to take a box to share with her boyfriend when she sees how popular they are. However, my mother firmly rejects her. She says she's the only one who can touch those éclairs. My sister refuses to listen. She secretly sneaks into the freezer in the basement. Then, in the middle of the night, I hear her wanton moans.

Harper Evans never expected to step foot on The Leviathan, the world's most luxurious mega-yacht, let alone work in its grand galley. As a plus-size, curvy pastry chef struggling to pay off her family's crushing debts, this maiden voyage was supposed to be her golden ticket. Keep her head down, bake the finest desserts, and collect the massive paycheck. But she made one fatal mistake, caught the attention of the yacht's mysterious owners. Something wild happens...

Even though I knew cows were sacred to the Indorians, I still supported their biological daughter in her plan to serve beef at the dinner table of Indoria's wealthiest man. In my previous life, the wealthiest man in Indoria had held a nationwide contest to choose a wife. My sister had fought her way to the final round and planned to make a beef and veggie stew for the ultimate cooking challenge. I rushed to stop her, warning that in Indoria's religion, cows were considered holy, and eating beef could have serious legal consequences. However, my sister thought I was deliberately humiliating her for being "uncultured." In a fit of anger, she ran out, only to be struck and killed by a car. My adoptive parents tried to console me, telling me it was not my fault, that it was simply bad luck. Later, thanks to my exceptional cooking skills, I became the wife of Indoria's wealthiest man. Yet on the very day of my wedding, my adoptive parents sold me to the slums. That night, as eight men assaulted me one after another, I cried and demanded to know why. They kicked me viciously and spat: "If you hadn't made things difficult for Janet, she wouldn't have died. You owe her this!" By the end of that night, I had bled to death. Meanwhile, my adoptive parents used the money given by Indoria's wealthiest man to build a lavish tomb for their biological daughter. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my sister was about to serve her beef and veggie stew to Indoria's wealthiest man.

After being chosen by a horror game, I took over a food stall in a small town. A ghoul tried to eat me, his huge, bloody mouth a gaping maw, but I quickly shoved a focaccia sandwich into it. He chewed and then said, “Oh, forget it. With food to eat, I’ll kill her tomorrow.” The next day, I made delicious pierogies, then skewers and stews. All the ghouls who stopped by gave up on trying to kill me, focusing on eating instead. The audience watching me was shocked that I could survive all the way to the end with just my cooking.