How The Cookie Crumbles: Sweet Shorts

By Jadelynn Asher

Delievering cookies shouldn't be a hard job, right?

 

Bethany loves her job working for Lousiana Bakes until a cookie delievery lands her in the New Orleans Bayou with a monster who wants more than her cookies. The man who saves her wants something more too. Can she trust the stranger with the eyes of a wolf?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Opal Kingdom Press
• Release date: Feb 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201103958

Book preview

How The Cookie Crumbles

Sweet Shorts

Jadelynn Asher

Published by Opal Kingdom Press, 2022.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

HOW THE COOKIE CRUMBLES

First edition. February 13, 2022.

Copyright © 2022 Jadelynn Asher.

Written by Jadelynn Asher.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

How The Cookie Crumbles (Sweet Shorts)

Proceed to the route.

The authoritative voice from my cellphone GPS was chipper and confident, assuring me that if I’d just follow the big arrow and the blue line I’d arrive at my delivery address. I stared at the thick grove of cypress trees in front of me and then looked back at the phone. Sure thing, phone. Just tell me how in the hell to do that. There are trees where you have a road!

Proceed to the route.

I chewed on my lower lip before putting the van in reverse. The delicate scent of 20 dozen cookies wafted through the air, chocolate and crispy caramel mixing with the earthier scents of cinnamon and cloves. I’d been working for Louisiana Bakes for almost a year and the smell of fresh cookies still made my stomach rumble. This was my first time driving the delivery van and, naturally, the customer address was clear out on the edge of the New Orleans bayou.

Not that I necessarily minded being in the bayou, mind you. It’s a beautiful place - in a swampy, buggy, Spanish mossy kind of way. It belongs on picture postcards and calendars, and it protects us from squalls and hurricanes, but it’s also dangerous as hell. There are critters in there that are happy to eat you, and everyone I knew was sure critters meant a lot more than just big mosquitoes and alligators. There were the stories of the loup garou and the feu follet, and Louisiana ghosts stories are a dime a dozen. As far as I was concerned the jury was still out, but I’d seen enough in my five years of living here that I wasn’t going to deny the possibility of the supernatural making a home where the water met the land.

I glanced one more time at the phone. The orange dot representing me and the blue one representing the address were so close together. I just needed to find my way beyond the cypress trees.

Okay, Bethany. I spoke out loud, trying to make my voice cheerful as I encouraged myself. Just a little farther! You can do this.

I could do this. How had could it really be?

I WAS LOST.

Not a little lost, but can’t backtrack your way out of it, stranded on a desert...well...not island, but bayou kind of lost. The sun had abandoned me, even though the clock on the dash said it was only 6:30 p.m.. The trees were just too thick to allow the waning sunshine down here, closing around me and my little delivery van in a way that felt like being swallowed whole. My phone service had also abandoned me, leaving behind a cheery ‘no services’ notice across the glowing screen. The GPS wasn’t