4.8Asha is now on the brink of helplessness and despair. Would she let despair to chase her for the rest of her life? Thus, she faces the man who wanted her dead and to stand as a woman in the world of chefs. She will create her own dishes and make his father's recipes alive again. Her adventures lead to clues of the real killer of his father and get entangles with love. Somehow, when she is face to face with the murderer, will she forgive or not? The Recipe of Love will show her the right decision to make. This is a story of a girl in her journey to become a lady chef while in life-threatening situations and falls in love. So, don't expect a fast pace cooking battles. It is Asha's journey. The setting of the story is India before its Independence in 1947. The exact timeline is 1945. However, in the first part of the story, I didn't use during the British occupation since the places/villages I mentioned do not exist in the present country. I used Bangla words since the culture is more on present Bangladesh. This is absolutely a fiction story. If you have questions about the culture, please ask me in the comment and I'll try to explain things to you. I can't write the culture within the story for that will bore you to death. Most are written in the Author's Thoughts. (This novel won the 2nd place in the writing prompt contest #34: Chef, but got the same prize as the first place. Thanks to all who supported.) Latest and ongoing book: 1. The Sorceress' Heir: Blossoming Youth and Power 2. My completed book: I'm Guilty, My Beauty
Kaori Prescott, the FBI Agent who stirs drama wherever she goes. She does her job and does it well but there is always something to be said. Given a mission she will take it with snarky sarcastic comment but what if one time she messes up and messes up badly? Everything goes to complete utter shit and fast. Ariel Christiano, the mysterious boy that is the son of a dangerous Mafia Lord. Doing everything 'they' say can get you an 'X' on your back. And that's why he's got an FBI Agent with a gun pointed at his head. Once you stumble you fall. There is no going back. After all, everyone knows not to fall in love on the job. -&- Listen to your superiors they say. My heart beats fast to go on a killing spree Had to put up a front to not be prey; Nonexistent to everyone but me. Sitting in the corner ready to shout; Wears a mask every day to be content. The end of the day the pain and misery sprout; Tired of the affliction and torment. Him and her. Her and him. Both a fright train. It'll do, me and you, with our unite; For all the times through the rain and the pain. Skies are dark and days are grey with no light. Dreams all fulfilled with the happiest thrill. It all moves while we are in a standstill. -&- Turning my head to the entrance of the cafeteria I see him. He is looking directly at me. They mugshot did him no justice. He was well over 6ft. He had three piercings. His unruly curly hair was jet black and so were his perfectly arched eyebrows. He had big light brown eyes. Let's not forget his perfectly sunkissed caramel skin. The broadest shoulders and the biggest biceps. You could almost see he worked out daily because of the black muscle shirt that was straining against his muscles. I wonder a six-pack or eight. That was most definitely Ariel Christiano. He was a turn on. "You done eye raping me yet?" And turned off.
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