Read The Cupcake Diaries Online
Authors: Darlene Panzera
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Blueberry Compote and Syrup Ingredients:
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Italian Blueberry Buttercream Ingredients:
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Can’t get enough from the gang at Creative Cupcakes?
Keep reading for excerpts from the first four books in
The Cupcake Diaries
series,
SWEET ON YOU, RECIPE FOR LOVE, TASTE OF ROMANCE,
and
SPOONFUL OF CHRISTMAS
now available from Avon Impulse
THE CUPCAKE DIARIES: SWEET ON YOU
Forget love . . . I’d rather fall in chocolate!
—Author unknown
A
NDI CAST A
glance over the rowdy karaoke crowd to the man sitting at the front table with the clear plastic bakery box in his possession.
“What am I supposed to say?” she whispered, looking back at her sister, Kim, and their friend Rachel as the three of them huddled together. “Can I have your cupcake? He’ll think I’m a lunatic.”
“Say ‘please,’ and tell him about our tradition,” Kim suggested.
“Offer him money.” Rachel dug through her dilapidated Gucci knockoff purse and withdrew a ten-dollar bill. “And let him know we’re celebrating your sister’s birthday.”
“You did promise me a cupcake for my birthday,” Kim said with an impish grin. “Besides, the guy doesn’t look like he plans to eat it. He hasn’t even glanced at the cupcake since the old woman came in and delivered the box.”
Andi tucked a loose strand of her dark blond hair behind her ear and drew in a deep breath. She wasn’t used to taking food from anyone. Usually she was on the other end—giving it away. Her fault. She didn’t plan ahead.
Why couldn’t any of the businesses here be open twenty-four hours like in Portland? Out of the two dozen eclectic cafes and restaurants along the Astoria waterfront promising to satisfy customers’ palates, shouldn’t at least one cater to late-night customers like herself? No, they all shut down at 10:30, some earlier, as if they knew she was coming. That’s what she got for living in a small town. Anticipation but no cake.
However, she was determined not to let her younger sister down. She’d promised Kim a cupcake for her twenty-sixth birthday, and she’d try her best to procure one, even if it meant making a fool of herself.
Andi shot her ever-popular friend Rachel a wry look. “You know you’re better at this than I am.”
Rachel grinned. “You’re going to have to start interacting with the opposite sex again sometime.”
Maybe. But not on the personal level, Rachel’s tone suggested. Andi’s divorce the previous year had left behind a bitter aftertaste no amount of sweet talk could dissolve.
Pushing back her chair, she stood up. “Tonight, all I want is the cupcake.”
A
NDI HAD TAKEN
only a few steps when the man with the bakery box turned his head and smiled.
He probably thought she was coming over, hoping to find a date. Why shouldn’t he? The Captain’s Port was filled with people looking for a connection, if not for a lifetime, then at least for the hour or so they shared within the friendly confines of the restaurant’s casual, communal atmosphere.
She hesitated midstep before continuing forward. Heat rushed into her cheeks. Dressed in jeans and a navy blue tie and sport jacket, he was even better looking than she’d first thought. Thirtyish. Light brown hair, fair skin with an evening shadow along his jaw, and the most amazing gold-flecked, chocolate brown eyes she’d ever seen.
Oh my
. He could have his pick of any woman in the place. Any woman in Astoria, Oregon.
“Hi,” he said.
Andi swallowed the nervous tension gathering at the back of her throat and managed a smile in return. “Hi. I’m sorry to bother you, but it’s my sister’s birthday, and I promised her a cupcake.” She nodded toward the see-through box and waved the ten-dollar bill. “Is there any chance I can persuade you to sell the one you have here?”
His brows shot up. “You want my cupcake?”
“I meant to bake a batch this afternoon,” she gushed, her words tumbling over themselves, “but I ended up packing spring break lunches for the needy kids in the school district. Have you heard of the Kids’ Coalition backpack program?”
He nodded. “Yes, I think the
Astoria Sun
featured the free lunch backpack program on the community page a few weeks ago.”
“I’m a volunteer,” she explained. “And after I finished, I tried to buy a cupcake but didn’t get to the store in time. I’ve never let my sister down before, and I feel awful.”
The new addition to her list of top ten dream-worthy males leaned back in his chair and pressed his lips together, as if considering her request, then shook his head. “I’d love to help you, but—”
“Please.”
Andi gasped, appalled she’d stooped to begging. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I understand if you can’t, it’s just that my sister, Kim, my friend Rachel, and I have a tradition.”
“What kind of tradition?”
Andi pointed to their table, and Kim and Rachel smiled and waved. “Our birthdays are spaced four months apart, so we split a celebration cupcake three ways and set new goals for ourselves from one person’s birthday to the next. It’s easier than trying to set goals for an entire year.”
“I don’t suppose you could set your goals without the cupcake?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
Andi smiled. “It wouldn’t be the same.”
“If the cupcake were mine to give, it would be yours. But this particular cupcake was delivered for a research project I have at work.”
“Wish I had your job.” Andi dropped into the chair he pulled out for her and placed her hands flat on the table. “What if I told you it’s been a really tough day, tough week, tough year?”
He pushed his empty coffee cup aside, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “I’d say I could argue the same.”
“But did you spend the last three hours running all over town looking for a cupcake?” she challenged, playfully mimicking Rachel’s flirtatious, sing-song tone. “The Pig ‘n Pancake was closed, along with the supermarket, and the cafe down the street said they don’t even sell them anymore. And then . . . I met you.”
He covered her left hand with his own, and although the unexpected contact made her jump, she ignored the impulse to pull her fingers away. His gesture seemed more an act of compassion than anything else, and, frankly, she liked the feel of his firm yet gentle touch.
“What if I told you,” he said, leaning forward, “that I’ve traveled five hundred and seventy miles and waited sixty-three days to taste this one cupcake?”
Andi leaned toward him as well. “I’d say that’s ridiculous. There’s no cupcake in Astoria worth all that trouble.”
“What if this particular cupcake isn’t from Astoria?”
“No?” She took another look at the box but didn’t see a label. “Where’s it from?”
“Hollande’s French Pastry Parlor outside of Portland.”
“What if I told you I would send you a dozen Hollande’s cupcakes tomorrow?”
“What if I told
you
,” he said, and stopped to release a deep, throaty chuckle, “this is the last morsel of food I have to eat before I starve to death today?”
Andi laughed. “I’d say that’s a good way to go. Or I could invite you to my place and cook you dinner.”
Her heart stopped, stunned by her own words, then rebooted a moment later when their gazes locked, and he smiled at her.
“You can have the cupcake on one condition.”
“Which is?”
Giving her a wink, he slid the bakery box toward her. Then he leaned his head in close and whispered in her ear.
THE CUPCAKE DIARIES: RECIPE FOR LOVE
Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.
—Ernestine Ulmer
R
ACHEL PUSHED THROUGH
the double doors of the kitchen, took one look at the masked man at the counter, and dropped the freshly baked tray of cupcakes on the floor.
Did he plan to rob Creative Cupcakes, demand she hand over the money from the cash register? Her eyes darted around the frilly pink-and-white shop. The loud clang of the metal bakery pan hitting the tile had caused several customers sitting at the tables to glance in her direction. Would the masked man threaten the other people as well? How could she protect them?
She stepped over the white-frosted chocolate mess by her feet, tried to judge the distance to the telephone on the wall, and turned her attention back to the masked man before her. Maybe he wasn’t a robber but someone dressed for a costume party or play. The man with the black masquerade mask covering the upper half of his face also wore a black cape.
“If this is a holdup, you picked the wrong place, Zorro.” She tossed her fiery red curls over her shoulder with false bravado and laid a protective hand across the old bell-ringing register. “We don’t have any money.”
His hazel eyes gleamed through the holes in the mask, and he flashed her a disarming smile. “Maybe I can help with that.”
He turned his hand to show an empty palm, and relief flooded over her. No gun. Then he closed his fingers and swung his fist around in the air three times. When he opened his palm again, he held a quarter, which he tossed in her direction.
Rachel caught the coin and laughed. “You’re a magician.”
“Mike the Magnificent,” he said, extending his cape wide with one arm and taking a bow. “I’m here for the Lockwell party.”
Rachel pointed to the door leading to the back party room. The space had originally been a tattoo shop, but the tattoo artist relocated to the rental next door. “The Lockwells aren’t here yet. The party doesn’t start until three.”
“I came early to set up before the kids arrive,” Mike told her. “Can’t have them discovering my secrets.”
“No, I guess not,” Rachel agreed. “If they did, Mike the magician might not be so magnificent.”
“Magnificence is hard to maintain.” His lips twitched, as if suppressing a grin. “Are you Andi?”
She shook her head. “Rachel, Creative Cupcakes’ stupendous co-owner, baker, and promoter.”
This time a grin did escape his mouth, which led her to notice his strong, masculine jawline.
“Tell me, Rachel, what is it that makes you so stupendous?”
She gave him her most flirtatious smile. “Sorry, I can’t reveal my secrets either.”
“Afraid if I found out the truth, I might not think you’re so impressively great?”
Rachel froze, fearing Mike the magician might be a mind reader as well. Careful to keep her smile intact, she forced herself to laugh off his comment.
“I just don’t think it’s nice to brag,” she responded playfully.