A Pinch of Kitchen Magic

A Pinch of Kitchen
Magic

by

Sandra Sookoo

*****

Smashwords
Edition

*****

This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales, is entirely
coincidental.

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A PINCH OF KITCHEN MAGIC
2012 by Sandra Sookoo

Published by New
Independence Books.

Contact
Information:

[email protected]

[email protected]

Visit me at
sandrasookoo.com

Book Cover Design by David
Sookoo

Portrait of a couple hugging
while cooking in their kitchen

Wavebreak Media Ltd |
123rf.com

Publishing
History

First Digital Edition,
2012

*****

Please note this title was formerly
available as The Foodie’s Guide to Kitchen Magic.

Since the rights have returned to me,
this story has been substantially re-edited plus I’ve added a lot
of bonus content to make the story what it was originally intended
to be.

I hope you enjoy the
changes.

*****

Take one timid but curvy cook, Aidan,
who discovers she can perform magic in the kitchen--literally. Add
a healthy pinch of desire to become a famous cable TV chef. Stir in
Matteus, the sexy skills assessor from the Institute of Magical
Instruction. Sprinkle with mutual attraction. Add a dash of
yum.
Except there’s one tiny problem: Aidan can't cook—not even boil
water.
At some point in every woman’s life, she wishes she could do magic.
But will Aidan cook up true love, a career... or just a
disaster?

*****

He crooked his index finger and the
fruit fell to the board with a soft thump. “Now you. Manipulate the
knife and cut them in half.”

“
I can’t.” She caught her
bottom lip between her teeth. She stared at the two red tomatoes.
“I’ve only had this magic—this energy—for two days. I have no idea
how to use it.”

“
Thus the reason I’m
here.” He moved behind her. “Let me show you. Also from now on, you
are forbidden to use the word ‘can’t.’ It’s irritating and
completely destroys any forward momentum or confidence.”

Excitement skittered down her spine
while thoughts of forbidden dark places danced through her mind
while his body brushed against her back. “What now?” The question
was barely louder than a whisper as he held her hand suspended in
the air.

“
Become the object you
wish to move. Think of nothing other than that object.” His words
caressed her cheek, stirring a few escaped blonde tendrils of her
upswept hair. “Convince the object it has nothing else better to do
than your bidding.”

Aidan nodded, her throat
too dry to utter words.
If I force my
magic to make him do my bidding, would he kiss me?
That thought, too, was shoved to the very back
recesses of her mind.
Don’t be silly,
Aidan.

When he released her hand, she nearly
cried out—she felt the loss of his warmth that deeply. “Try
again.”

“
Okay.” She focused her
eyes on the chef’s knife, she imagined herself filling the cool
metal of the blade as she rested herself in the weighted balance of
the handle. Swishing her wrist, a smile curled her lips when the
knife levitated a few inches over the cutting board, wobbled for a
brief second or two, and then inexorably glanced off the side of
the first tomato. The carving piece landed with a clatter on the
cutting board. “Crap.”

“
It will come. You just
need to practice.” At the snap of his fingers, a bushel basket full
of ripe, juicy tomatoes appeared on her cutting board at the snap
of his fingers. “Again.”

“
That’s not fair!” A knot
of dread grew in her stomach. It may have well been a thousand
tomatoes since she couldn’t slice even one.

“Nothing in life is. When you have
mastered the art of cutting the tomatoes in half, call
me.”

*****

Dedication

To all my loyal readers who
not only buy my books but also tell others about them, share my
links on social media and generally encourage me to keep on writing
even when things are tough. I couldn’t do what I do without you.
Thank you very much from the bottom of my heart.

*****

Chapter One

It Started with a
Spark

“
Who the hell are you?”
Aidan demanded and retreated behind the kitchen island putting it
between her and a strange man. Just two minutes before he’d
materialized out of thin air, she’d managed to set a casserole on
fire, scorched a potholder, and splattered the inside of the
microwave with the remains of a cheese soufflé.

The man before her was gorgeous: short
chestnut hair curled just to his collar, eyes the color of a
turbulent storm-tossed sea, and not to mention he possessed a body
every actor in Hollywood wants. He exuded so many pheromones, Aidan
fully expected women from two states away to beat down her door any
minute.

A dark glossy brow cocked with
inquiry. “I’m your condemnation or your redemption. Either way,
your life is about to change.”

She clutched a dishrag to her chest,
struggling to calm her frantic heartbeat. “What do you want with
me?”

“
My name is Matteus.” The
corners of his mouth tilted up in a slow smile. “I desire nothing
more than to teach you how to channel your magical energy. If you
refuse my instruction, you will eventually destroy yourself and
those around you. The choice is yours.”

Aidan considered her options. She
glanced from the charred rag in her hands to the man on the other
side of the butcher block island. A sigh signaled her imminent
surrender of the situation. He was right: she had a choice and it
didn’t involve tangling with some sort of magical hottie. She might
not know a lot of stuff about that realm but she knew enough to
suspect this man was way more powerful than she could handle. “Are
you from the agency?” She tossed the rag in the sink, determined to
put her attraction to the stranger from her mind. “I called them
two hours ago.” Turning on the cold-water tap, she held her right
hand under the flow, hoping to calm the angry red burn.

“
If you’re referring to
the Institute for Magical Instruction, then yes. I’m here to assess
your skill level.”

“
Good, because I have to
tell you, I almost burned the kitchen down—again. I have no idea
how.” He was directly behind her, so close his breath whispered
over her cheek, so close she came perilously close to losing her
train of thought. She frowned when he reached around her to turn
off the faucet. “I don’t understand this power, this electricity,
that’s inside me.”

“
Obviously.”

She ignored his comment. “It’s creepy
and it manifests itself at the most inopportune times.” Her cheeks
warmed at the remembrance of the silverware drawer that had spewed
its contents at her that morning.

“
It doesn’t; you’ve just
chosen not to recognize it before now.”

“
Annoying.”

“
Factual. First you must
understand what the power is that you possess.” He gripped her
shoulders and then turned her around to face him. “It’s not
electricity, though it may feel like that feat of nature at times.
It’s more like a relative to telekinesis.” He took one of her hands
in his. Matteus dropped his gaze to her palm before slamming it
back to hers. “You burned yourself trying to control the energy
current, didn’t you?”

“
Yes.” Aidan licked her
dry lips and nodded. “I was attempting to make pizza. As soon as I
dumped the ingredients for the dough into the bowl, I felt a
tingling in my fingertips. After that, a spark flew from my finger
and zapped my palm.” Her skin prickled as he continued to hold her
hand in his. He was close enough to her that she could smell his
unique scent: a mixture of the air just before a rainstorm and
sweet basil.

Oh man!
She had a weakness for the Italian herb. So much
so, she kept two ten inch pots of the aromatic plant just outside
her back door.

“
This is why I’m here.” He
massaged her hand with nimble fingers then blew on her pale ivory
skin.

She shivered at the light touch, but
the pain from the burn ebbed. “Was that magic?”

“
Perhaps. Let’s start at
the beginning.” He released her to glance around. “I’m assuming you
are very much into the kitchen arts?”

Aidan followed his gaze. What did he
think of the bunches and bundles of dried herbs hanging upside down
on one wall? “Let’s say I’m enthusiastic about cooking. I’d love to
be a world famous chef one day.” She rolled her eyes when he gave
her an intense look. “I’m what’s known as a foodie, but that
doesn’t mean I can cook, it just means I’m a big fan.”

“
You’re a woman, not a
device made to cool a room.”

“
Oh, brother.” To escape
his smoldering glance, she turned her attention to her burn. She
marveled at her hand. The injury was gone, the skin smooth and
unmarred. “That’s cool.”

“
You’re welcome. Why do
you continue to attempt assembling meals if you’re not good at
it?”

She stifled a sigh. He’d be difficult.
“I enjoy it. I try to cook but usually end up ordering take out.”
She stood rooted to the floor near the sink. “I follow directions;
I read the recipes thoroughly before beginning, yet every time
something disastrous happens. My mind is caught up in fuzzy
thoughts of things I’ve never seen. Fantastic places, colorful
foods, or exotic people.” She swallowed. “Or sometimes in my
dreams, I can almost taste different foods, feel the cloth of the
clothing people wear or even hear their countries of origin in
their voices except I’ve never seen or met any of these people or
places.”

Matteus was silent as he scanned the
utensil-cluttered countertops. His gray eyes were no less intense
than when he studied her. “I see.” He ran a fingertip through a
dusting of flour on the top of the butcher block. “When did your
awareness of magic begin?”

“
On my thirtieth birthday,
two days ago.”

“
And?”

“
My Aunt Hettie told me
long ago if I exhibited signs of other-worldliness, I should call
the Institute. After it happened, I called the number she made me
commit to memory when I was twelve.” She frowned. “She’s a witch,
isn’t she? She never would answer me directly when I
asked.”