Open Book Cake の小説・ストーリー

"I've worked on it for the whole day. Please cut the cake for me. You don't have to celebrate. I will celebrate for you." She stopped in front of the table. There was a grin that appeared on her lips. “I was wondering if you liked the cake. I spent two hours in the shop waiting for this cake.” Bryan's eyes slowly moved to the cake. It was a cake made with dark chocolate. But the eye-catching side of the cake was the golden crown on top. It was glimmering, demonstrating its glory. "A crown?" he asked. She smiled while looking at the cake. "Yeah."

“He’ll be over later, he said. Now… to Alice, the wolf among sheep.” “Oh, I like that, but I prefer lioness among jackals,” I winked, raising my glass. “To the lioness.” We sipped our cider before Arlington opened the box he had brought, revealing my favorite cake. It was a vanilla cake layered with chocolate and coconut cream, dusted with coconut flakes. “Oh, you remembered!” “How could I forget?” “Delicious. This is exactly what I needed tonight.” The ringing of my doorbell echoed in the apartment as we both paused. It rang again, and I shrugged, assuming it was Adam back early from his shift.

KIMANI We migrated back to the living room like a victorious army returning from battle—only our weapons had been whisks and spatulas, and the casualties were limited to flour-covered countertops and Alex’s wounded pride. The center table was now crowded with plates of pastries from every group. Our caramel tarts gleamed under the warm lights, Denise and Dominic’s croissants sat in perfect golden layers, Adrian and Zendaya’s red velvet cake looked straight out of a bakery window, and Ava and Malik’s chaotic brownie-cookie invention leaned slightly to one side but somehow held together. My dad’s simple sponge cake rested modestly among them, quietly dignified.

The weekend has arrived. Since early morning, Kayla had been working hard in the kitchen with such desperation, as if she were organizing a dinner party and not one of the invited guests. First I prepared a meat terrine with liver, bacon and pistachios - hoping to surprise with my knowledge and exquisite taste, and now I was fiddling with a sponge cake topped with curd and sour cream. And when she got to decorating the lush top, she suddenly realized that she desperately needed whipped cream.

Doctor Rahim Rajah. An hour passed, and Tiffany was still fast asleep, and so was Timmy. I picked up the storybook from where it had fallen off his hands to the floor and placed it on a bookshelf. With some time to myself, I picked up the culinary recipe book and headed into the kitchen. I already have everything I will need for the treat I plan on making for my dessert. Flour, eggs, baking powder, and a host of other things. Today, I'm making red velvet cake and chocolate cake. I want to start improving my baking skills. In four months. It will be Tim and Tiffy's birthday. My babies would be turning five years old, and I have every intention of making their cake myself.

Camilla reasoned. “You have the keys, don't you?” “I do.” Camilla snorted. “Please get it.” Ruby made her best puppy eyes. Camilla dragged her foot back into the bakery and Ruby followed her. Camilla picked the key from the counter and went back to open it. “Let me grab something from my bag quickly,” Ruby excused herself before Camilla could talk. She went back into the room, and after ensuring that Camilla was not following she opened her bag and poured a white powder into the batter and stirred it.

"I went into town earlier and stopped by one of the bakeries." She lifted a small box she had been carrying. "I brought something special for you." I looked at the box. "Cake?" "Not just any cake." Her eyes brightened. "This is Fire Blossom Cake." I forced myself to focus on the conversation despite my racing thoughts. "Fire Blossom Cake?" Mom Jess nodded enthusiastically. "It is one of our pack's oldest traditions." She carefully opened the box. A sweet smell immediately drifted through the air. Inside sat several golden slices of cake decorated with small red sugar flowers.

As the cake is sliced, the inside unveils a captivating dark green hue that emits a subtle blue glow, further enhancing its enchanting allure. Joe carefully lifts his fork, admiring the appearance of the cake slice before him. The cake's texture is a cross between a cake and fudge, implying a pleasantly firm yet yielding consistency. With anticipation, he takes a small bite, immersing himself in the merfolk's culinary creation.

"Ashlyn, we're talking about getting your cake in front of Luca Fontaine and Emilia Torres. Do you even understand what that means? If you do this right, you could be the one to make their wedding cake. And you're an idiot if you think that cake won't be in every magazine at every checkout stand in the country." He's right. If my bakery got that kind of press, I'd be booked solid for the next year. Screw that - the next five years. And with gorgeous, multi-tiered wedding cakes covered in rolled fondant and beautiful lacework, not more phallus-shaped monstrosities. The first dozen or so penis cakes were fun, but the subsequent dozen... not so much. That's not why I opened this bakery. But tak

His hair was a mess, his shirt had suspicious chocolate stains, and he looked like the most beautiful disaster I had ever seen. “Okay, Lily,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel. “Close your eyes.” I did. Isabella grabbed one hand, Ryan took the other, and they led me carefully into the kitchen. I heard whispering. Shuffling. Something placed on the counter. “Open,” Ryan murmured. And I did. A cake sat on the marble island, snow-white frosting, delicate silver sprinkles, and little sugar snowflakes around the edges. But what stole my breath was the writing on top, in slightly wobbly but determined cursive: