Brimstone: Culinary Creatures, #1

By L Eveland

One taste is never enough.

Becoming Brimstone's head chef is a dream come true, even though I'm the only human on the staff.
Working for Chef Inzo Amoretti? Not so much. Sure, he's a talented genius and distractingly gorgeous, but he's also a demanding incubus with impossibly high standards, especially when it comes to me. It seems nothing I do in the kitchen is good enough for Chef Inzo.

Yet he's so sinfully attractive, I can't stop thinking about him, even when he's shouting at me.
Falling for my boss is bad enough, but for an incubus? Is it worth putting my soul on the line for a little taste of heaven?

Brimstone is the first book in the Culinary Creatures series. Each novella in this series is a standalone MM monster romance that features high heat, low stakes, and a delicious recipe you can try at home!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Grim Cat Press LLC
• Release date: Jul 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223331841

Book preview

Brimstone

A Culinary Creatures Novella

L Eveland

Copyright © 2023 by L Eveland

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact [e-mail].

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

NO GENERATIVE AI TRAINING USE. This author expressly prohibits using Brimstone in any manner for purposes of training artificial intelligence technologies to generate text, including without limitation, technologies that are capable of generating works in the same style or genre as Brimstone. L Eveland reserves all rights to license all uses of Brimstone for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

Author note: No AI was used in the production of Brimstone or its cover. This author supports living human artists.

Book Cover by Delaney Rain

2nd edition 2023

Please report typos directly to [e-mail] or fill out this form.

If you're reading this, say Yes, Chef three times fast!

Contents

Dear Monsterfuckers

Content & Trigger Warnings

1.One

2.Two

3.Three

4.Four

5.Five

6.Six

7.Seven

8.Eight

9.Nine

10.Ten

11.Eleven

12.Twelve

13.Thirteen

14.Fourteen

15.Fifteen

16.Sixteen

17.Seventeen

18.Eighteen

19.Chef Adam’s Diavolo Sauce

20.Bonus Epilogue

21.An Invitation

22.Beefcakes Preview

23.From the Author

Also By L Eveland

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The Culinary Creatures series takes place in an alternate earth universe in which monsters evolved alongside humans. Humans make up only a small subset of Earth’s population and have since the beginning of time.

Other than small differences, such as the founding fathers being mostly minotaurs, werewolves, and tentacle monsters, and a brief disaster involving that time NASA experimented with sending werewolves to the moon, their world history is relatively similar to our own, albeit slightly more idealized.

If you’d like to read the short story where Inzo and Adam meet for the first time, Brimstone and Bolognase is available to download for free here.

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All efforts have been made to list content and trigger warnings below, as well as the kinks mentioned and displayed in the book. If you feel I missed something, please do not hesitate to reach out to me by email: [e-mail]

Content, Tropes, and Kinks in This Book:

MM romance

Explicit sex

Dual point of view

Size difference

Hurt/Comfort

Prehensile tail (yes, it goes where you think it does)

Workplace romance

A ridiculous amount of mutual pining

Possessive incubus boyfriend

Fated mates

Complete disregard of food safety and hygiene standards in the kitchen (don’t try this at home or work)

Hand necklaces

Rimming

Mutual and assisted masturbation

Sex toys

Praise and degradation kink

Biting and marking

Swears and potentially offensive language (slut, whore, etc see degradation kink)

Religious language and symbolism in a sexual context

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I dipped my tasting spoon in the marinara and peered through the rising steam at the incubus on the other side. World famous chef Inzo Amorosi’s pointed tail flicked in irritation as he looked over my proposed changes to tonight’s menu. He was going to reject them again; I just knew it.

I wished I could be angry about it—and I would be later—but in the moment, I was too distracted by the way the cuffs of his white chef jacket clung to his muscular red forearms, and how nice his ass looked in those plain black pants. It should be a sin to look so delicious and be such an asshole. If it was, then I’d never stop being a filthy, lowdown sinner.

He turned the page over, perfect, kissable lips shifting down into a flattering frown.

And here it comes, I thought, and shoved the spoon into my mouth. After three years of working for the incubus, I could predict exactly what was about to fall out of his mouth.

His lip curled, perfect aquiline nose twitching as he revealed a single fang, an expression that I frustratingly found incredibly attractive.

Chef Inzo turned toward me and held up the modified menu. Look around you, Northstar. What do you see?

I considered not humoring him for a moment, knowing all too well where this was going. Yet that would only piss him off more. As sexy as he was when he was angry, I didn’t want to deal with the fallout, which would be yet another day of him raging through the kitchen, threatening to fire me.

I gave the kitchen a furtive glance, taking in the polished stainless steel, the top end appliances, the finest ingredients. Harold the kraken was at his station chopping vegetables with his tentacles faster than any human could manage, and Bobby the minotaur fed pasta dough through the cutter with flawless ease. Damien the werewolf ground fresh spices at his station while Nadia the nyad dumped a fistful of sea salt in the pasta water, her dark eyes darting between me and Inzo.

Does this look like a fucking pizzeria? Inzo snarled.

You asked me for something new, I started. It was apparently the wrong thing to say.

Chef Inzo crossed the space between us in a blink, suddenly towering over me, filling the air with his sweet, charred red pepper scent and sending my heart fluttering. His broad shoulders squared in irritation and his jaw clenched. Strong fingers, the same color as the marinara I had just tasted, gripped my chin, forcing me to gaze up into his fiery red eyes. Black fingernails dug into my soft human flesh, and I bit my lip to keep from letting out a shuddering sigh of satisfaction.

"Does this look like a fucking pizzeria? Yes or no, Northstar!"

My heart skipped a beat for entirely the wrong reason. Chef Inzo could destroy me with little more than a word. He was a supernaturally powerful creature, practically immortal, with enhanced senses and strength. I was nothing but a twenty-something human man. Sometimes, I jogged in the mornings. I struggled to lift seventy-five-pound sacks of flour. I should have been terrified.

Instead, under Inzo’s thumb, I was as pliable as overcooked pasta. All I wanted every time he touched me—even when the touch was severe and chastising—was to melt, to fall to my knees and beg for him to destroy me further, body and soul. It was the only reason I’d put up with this treatment for three years at Brimstone. That and working there was my dream.

I swallowed, fully aware of how his gaze snapped to the knot bobbing in my throat. No, Chef.

Then why did you put a fucking pizza on my menu? Even as he snarled at me viciously, he drew the pad of his thumb over my cheek in an almost tender gesture.

I didn’t know how to interpret it. Fear pulsed through me, followed by a near unbearable tsunami of desire. Maybe it was his power at work, or maybe I was just that pathetic and desperate.

I had wanted Chef Inzo from the moment I saw him on television all those years ago, extolling the virtues of Italian cuisine on a morning talk show. It was foolish to want someone I didn’t even know, to pursue cooking, to invest thousands of dollars in a culinary education, to make attaining the unattainable my life’s goal. I could never have him, especially not now that I was his head chef. Sleeping with the boss was the worst possible decision I could make, especially since I was sure he hated my guts.

I licked my dry lips, trying to find words. I thought…

Speak up, he growled in a low tone that sent shivers through me. "You thought what?"

Well, Xavier’s has a pizza on the menu, so I thought—

"Xavier’s? Chef Inzo snorted and released me. Fuck Xavier. How many Michelin stars does he have? Only one? Well, he can fucking keep it. This is a three star establishment, Northstar! Three!"

I swayed in place, head floating, cock throbbing against my zipper, drunk on the shadow of his presence. All I wanted was for him to touch me again.

Chef Inzo folded his hands behind his back, raising his voice to address the entire kitchen. In this kitchen, what do we make?

Elegant classic Italiano cuisine, replied the staff.

And who do we make it for?

Discerning customers of the highest caliber!

Chef Inzo pinched two fingers together. "Customers come to Brimstone to indulge in the sinful luxury of taste. They do not come here for pizza!" He pitched my menu in the trash.

I took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of fresh garlic, onion, and crushed tomato all around me. Then what do you want for an appetizer tonight, Chef?

He made a disgusted sound and waved his hand. I don’t know. Put the langoustines back on.

"I thought you said you wanted something different." Never mind that the pizza I had proposed was no simple pepperoni pie. It was made with black garlic, white truffle, heirloom tomatoes, fresh herbs, pancetta, burrata, and an aged balsamic vinegar. I had made a test pizza the night before and everyone in the kitchen agreed it was to die for. Every Italian place in the world had langoustine on the menu. If he wanted to stand out, we had to do something other than the same old thing.

Inzo gave the kitchen doors a longing look and sighed.

I swallowed and turned to Jerard, my half-orc sous chef. Get the langoustines.

Jerard nodded. Yes, Chef!

When I looked back to where Chef Inzo had been standing a moment ago, the space was empty, the kitchen doors swinging. I scowled at the empty air and threw my tasting spoon down, peeling the hand towel from my shoulder. One of these days, I was going to have enough of him belittling me in front of the staff, dismissing my ideas, and sending confusing signals.

Working at Brimstone had been my life’s dream, next to marrying Chef Inzo. I’d been a fool to want either of those things. A dumb child, drunk on ambition.