The tale of flour and fervor for the “yes, chef” generation. You will never see dough rising the same after the words on these pages.

Smut weekly calls it “Deliciously naughty”

Baker’s Digest raves “a delightful Smörgåsbord of sensuality”

Book Excerpt:

Chapter 1: Rise and Seduction

The sun had barely begun its ascent over the sleepy town of Willowbrook, casting golden hues across the cobblestone streets. In the heart of the town stood a quaint bakery known as “A Morning Rise," its inviting aroma of freshly baked pastries swirled through the morning air like a siren's call.

Behind the counter, adorned in a flour-dusted apron, stood an auspicious baker. With hair the color of spun caramel and eyes that sparkled like chocolate ganache, he possessed an irresistible allure that lured people in like bees to honey.

As the bell above the door chimed, the baker glanced up from his work. A warm smirk appeared on his face. Standing before him was a man unlike any he had ever seen. His rugged features hinted at a life of adventure and fortune, while his piercing blue eyes held a hint of subdued mischief.

"Good morning," he greeted the baker, his voice a smooth melody that would send shivers down the spine of any person.

"Hello there," the baker replies, his cheeks flushing as he meets the patrons gaze.

The handsome patron approaches the counter, his eyes lingering on the assortment of pastries lying behind the glass. "What do you recommend?" he asked, his tone filled with flirtation.

The baker’s pulse quickened as he surveyed the counter while attempting to dust his apron. "Well, our croissants are always a favorite," he suggested, trying to hide the nervous flutter in his voice.

The baker's bottom lip curled under his teeth as he leaned closer, the patron’s intoxicating scent filling his senses with euphoria.

"I'll trust you," the patron said, his voice seemingly dropping in tone acknowledging the bakers not so subtle flirtations.

With trembling hands, the baker coddles a flakey croissant, the warmth of it seeping through the parchment paper as he hands it to the patron. The patron’s right hand slides under the baker’s while the left comes over top grazing the baker's exposed tender skin under his wrist sending a jolt of electricity coursing through his veins.

"Thank you," the patron says with flirtatious aggressiveness, his gaze holding the baker’s eyes captive.

As he turned to leave, the baker found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the patron as he took the scenic route through the bakery. Something about this mysterious stranger ignited desire within his whole body, a feeling almost foreign to the baker.

Before he could stop himself, he eagerly blurted out, "Would you like a cup of coffee?" quickly and nervously adding “with my company, if you’re so inclined.”

To his surprise, the patron’s crooked amused grin slipped out the simple words “What took you so long to ask?”

With an excited flutter of a thousand butterflies in his chest, the baker led him to a secluded corner of the bakery, where the scent of freshly brewed coffee and fresh baked pastries created a mélange of an aphrodisiac fragrance. As they sat across from each other, lips pressed to warm ceramic, a palpable tension simmered between them, thick with unspoken desire.

With each passing moment, their conversation grew more intimate, their laughter mingling with the sounds of the passing world just outside the doors. The morning sun bathed them in its golden light filling the slowly closing gap between them as the baker took a glance at the clock noticing that the morning rush was coming to an end and the shop would soon empty with only two mugs between them