Hello, book monsters!
Welcome back to the lair! I have a brand new flash fiction story for you to read. For any newcomers, I’m writing for the Wild At Heart PNR Bingo challenge. The game is we write stories between 250-1000 words (or thereabouts) to fill a trope square on our bingo card and post them for our readers. By the way, thanks so much for all the great feedback on my Tommyknocker Ridge story. A lot of you really liked that one. I’m so glad! I may have to put that one on the list to do more with later. If you didn’t get a chance to read it, here’s the link. My new story, Secret Recipe, fills in the “Academy Romance” square. I have to tell you, this is the square that had me the most worried because I don’t ever read in this sub genre. It just hasn’t been on my radar. Do you enjoy reading Academy Romances? If you do, please drop me some recs.
Despite my inexperience, I had a great time letting my imagination go wild. My idea came to me on a whim while I was in the kitchen cooking dinner. Added to that, my husband’s been on a kick of watching competition cooking shows, and I gotta say, some of those masterchefs are totally crushworthy, am I right? Anyway, this week’s story hits several tropes besides the academy theme, such as: post-apocalypse, dystopian, over-forty heroine, and portal fantasy.
For your reading pleasure, here is Secret Recipe.
“And who made this?”
I slink behind the wall separating the “kitchen” from the mess hall. Kitchen meant a bunch of burner plates set up in a row. Rhoda mumbles something from the table she’s serving and points my way. Messy hair guy turns to look and I freeze.
God love a duck! I know him. Not personally, but from TV when there used to be such a thing. He’s Masterchef Mason Leever from the competition cooking show that was popular before the war.
I skirt around the counter and almost make it to my station when I hear him call my name.
“Lana is it?” His English accent rolls through me.
I turn.
“You,” I stop, staring as he points at me, “you made this soup?”
I blink, unable to utter a peep. The last thing I need is some full-of-himself celebrity from “the old days” berating me in front of everyone. Didn’t he hear that the world fell apart? His stare doesn’t waiver.
“Uhh, I-I… I just came here to help.”
He steps all the way into the kitchen to tower over me. His mouth keeps to a grim line, not even a hint of a smile. Crap. I called him messy hair guy because it truly is sticking out all over. But it’s a perfect white, shot through with hints of silver, that I have to say I envy. My own dark strands are turning streaky again because I haven’t been able to color them since society went down the toilet. Funny, I hadn’t spared a thought for such a thing till now.
“It’s delicious.” He states, matter of fact, no inflection at all, so I’m not sure if he meant it as a compliment or not. “Honestly, the best Chicken and Dumplings I’ve ever eaten.”
I blink several times really fast.
“Um, i-it was my grandmother’s recipe.”
I don’t know what he wants. He keeps staring. Finally, he nods, all business again.
“Naturally.” He steps closer. “There’s something in it I can’t place. Something… calming.”
“Tryptophan?” I offer.
A smile grows on his face.
“I don’t think that’s it.” He winks and takes my hand. Instantly, a jolt of fire shoots through my middle. Good grief, Lana, you’re forty-five years old and it’s the gall-dang apocalypse! This is no time to get weak-kneed. Without all the makeup and good camera angles, he isn’t that handsome.
Except he is.
He turns, taking my hand with him.
“Come with me.” He says, already moving.
Before I can argue, he’s pulling me to the back of the kitchen. With no input from me, my feet follow. He opens the door to the pantry closet. When he tugs me behind him, I shoot Rhoda a wide-eyed look over my shoulder. She smirks and wags her eyebrows up and down—no help at all. Once I step inside the pantry, he pulls me to its back wall, moving a flat of canned vegetables aside to undo a rusted latch I never noticed before. Turning back around, he gives me another smile.
“Here we are. How are you at learning new things, my darling?”
That accent, my goodness.
“I… uh…” I don’t know what to say. With one solid pull from him on the latch, the wall opens. Bright, glowing light flows into the pantry. Again, he pulls me onward and, again, my feet follow of their own accord. The light blinds me as I pass the wall, then suddenly, I’m not in the pantry anymore. In fact, I’m not even in Ohio anymore.
I can’t believe my eyes. A manicured, park-like setting spreads out before me. Pristine paths jut off in different directions and, in the middle of it all, stands a beautiful mansion or building of some sort. Whatever it is, it’s sprawling—a rose stone edifice with tall white columns. I’ve never seen anything like it. I glance down at my feet to make sure I’m really standing here.
“Where am I?”
“Lana,” my name sounds different when he says it, prettier, “you’ve been identified as having unrealized magical abilities.”
Ummm, as if all of this wasn’t weird enough. I can’t explain anything about what’s happening, but I’m certain now that the silver fox is a loon.
“Excuse me?”
He sighs a little.
“Normally, there’s more time. Unfortunately, I’m going to have to give you a crash course.”
I frown at him.
“Lana, forty-five years ago, there was a glitch among the magical community that operates in your world.”
“My w-world?”
He doesn’t bat an eye at my confusion.
“Yes, exactly, and a good number of you born with hidden abilities then were lost to our record system. Ever since, we’ve had to send out a search and rescue team, so to speak, to find you all.”
“And you’re part of this team?” I know he’s crazy, but I can’t keep the disbelief from showing on my face.
He takes my hand, starting to lead me down a path. As we move, I can’t help but feel a strange energy in the air. There truly is something off about this place. Or maybe it’s just that he’s holding my hand again. I really need to get a grip.
“Where are we going now?”
“The culinary magical arts wing of the university. You’re a potions talent, Lana. Your specialty is in foods.” He turns his head, sunlight brightening the twinkle in his eyes before he winks at me once more. “It’s my specialty, too. In fact,” he leans closer to me, whispering conspiratorially, “I’m head of the department. You’re in my class.”
A sexy, magic, five-star chef, professor? His grin makes me feel like he just read my mind’s description of him. Oh, man, I could get absolutely lost in that smile. If this is Crazy Town, I hope my ticket was one-way.
Copyright © 2022 Amanda V. Shane, First published as Secret Recipe in the Wild At Heart PNR Flash Fiction Writing Circle. All rights reserved.
If you’d like to read more more romance short stories from me, you can find Secret Recipe and others in my Wildfire collection on Ream. While you’re there, I’d love it if you gave me a follow. It’s a great place for story lovers to connect and I have a lot of free reading on offer over there too.
All right, now since we’re all thinking about sexy chef MMCs… I mean, we are right?… I have to share that I have a bit of a crush on both Gordon Ramsey and Bobby Flay. Personally, GR’s accent tips the scales in his favor for me, but what about you? Do you have a chef crush? Are you Team Gordon, Team Bobby or Team Tell Me Who?
Finally, a little update on Storm Tide:
I’ve been deep in the writing cave for my latest round of edits on Storm Time and am happy to say that I finished—hooray! After I get notes back, I’ll be getting the book ready for my beta readers. If you would like to join my readers’ lair ARC team, let me know and I’ll put your name on the list. In the mean time, I’ve been sharing book teasers and some background info on social media this month. Here’s a little recap of a couple of my Instagram posts, in case you missed them.
If you haven’t “Slipped into the Tides” with the Tides of Atlantis series yet, there’s plenty of time to read the first three books before Storm Tide comes out. They’re all available here.
Till next time, lovely monsters, stay in the magic and happy reading!
Amanda V Shane
1. Great story! Didn't see that magic chef angle coming.
2. My magic chef is my hubby. The things he can do to ground beef -- don't get me started!
3. Thanks so much for sharing on this THORNY THURSDAY.