The Cinderella Cook-Off (The Feminine Mesquite Book 1)

by Sable Sylvan

  Clove followed Herb into the parlor. It was just as he remembered it. It was ornate, at least, by American standards. The help that Clove recognized from back in Norway were all smiles, and they were serving tea and biscuits.

  Clove took his seat across from Herb and was poured what he assumed was a cup of Earl Grey, the Scoville family blend, by one of the staff. He sipped at it.

  “The tea is different,” said Clove, frowning. This wasn’t the Earl Grey he was used to, not in the least.

  “Mint green tea,” said Herb. “We’re offering it at the store in a large plastic serving keg. It’s what the Americans use instead of metal samovars. It’s very cooling, so it’s a good beverage for those that can’t handle the heat.”

  Clove heard footsteps coming down the hall. Instinctively, he rose, and Herb followed suit. Old habits die hard. Clove listened. There were two people walking down the hallway. One was in nice shoes. The other was in slippers. He could scent something familiar, something forbidden, but it had to be something else. His polar roared. Of course, it wasn’t anything else, but Clove shut the bear up. It wasn’t time for the shift to take over. He’d take it on a run later. Sometimes, having a shift was like owning a big dog, a dog who thought they owned you just as much as you owned them.

  The first figure came into view. It was Alice, wearing a tea dress that was modest but didn’t hide her curves. She had on a pair of designer flats, European. Of course, they must’ve been selected for her by Herb, who, for all his faults, did have good taste.

  But the second figure was the one who took his breath away.

  She was the woman wearing slippers. She was wearing a pair of opaque leggings that were nearly the same color as her skin tone and made him think of what he knew was hidden underneath those thin scraps of fabric, which he could tear off her as easily as his shift could take down a seal. She was wearing a long loose tunic top, gray but the solid color couldn’t hide her curves. A cream-colored hoodie was zipped up, only halfway, leaving her ample bust exposed. She flipped her hair over her shoulders, and the sweet scent of her pheromones was released like pollen by a flower, and once it hit his nose, the polar roared even more loudly. It was obvious what she wanted, and it was the same thing Clove and his shift wanted. It was the one thing he couldn’t admit that he wanted to have all to himself. It was her.

  Clove reached for his cup and sipped his tea. It was rude, but he couldn’t help it. All of a sudden, he was parched, burning from the inside. He was going to need this minty cold tea to help him cool down. He might’ve been polar, but the one woman who could make him feel like he was going to burst into flames had just entered the room.

  Sneak Peek: “Spicy Beauty”

  My dear readers,

  A special sneak peek of the third book in this series, “Spicy Beauty”, is coming up next. “Spicy Beauty” and the rest of the books from “The Feminine Mesquite” series are already available on Amazon!

  Get your official “The Feminine Mesquite” hot sauces and teas now! You can find all these items and more on www.shopsablesylvan.com !

  Love this book? Join the Sable Sylvan ARC (advance reader copy) team today! Learn more about it here:

  https://www.sablesylvan.com/sablesylvanarcteam/

  Visit https://www.instafreebie.com/authors/sablesylvan to download “Alpha Romeo Charlie”, my official ARC team member manual.

  Go to https://www.tinyurl.com/SableSylvanAdvanceReaders to sign up for the ARC mailing list today! ARC readers get their hands on books a full week before launch!

  Yours,

  Sable Sylvan

  Recipe for a red hot fairy tale:

  - one dreamy BBW bookworm with more curves than a racetrack

  - one polar bear bad boy billion heir who parties like a rock star

  - just a pinch of BDSM

  - juicy grilled meat that is above all else, spicy!

  - witches, dragons, poison, two big balls, and two fancy dances…!

  It's a fairy tale dream come true...

  Addison 'Addy O' Quincy is the quiet bookish middle sister of the Quincy family. This spicy beauty sleeps in because she stays up every night with her nose in a book. She might be shy, but she lets her curves do the talking. Sage Scoville, playboy, badboy, heir to billions, is the gamma of the Scoville Polar Bear clan of bear shifters, so he doesn't need to play by the rules. These two couldn't be any more different, but even if they aren't alike...can they fall love?

  A whirlwind European adventure fit for a princess...

  Addison has always dreamed of visiting the renowned Bonimolean University, the finest university in Europe. Set in the English countryside, the university has educated the world's finest authors, inventors, and world leaders. It's no place for a girl from Fallowedirt, Texas with an empty wallet and a heart full of dreams...but when Addison's older sister, Alice, and her new fiance, Herbert Scoville of the Scoville Polar Clan, pull some strings, Addison's dream comes true, and it's off to England for the semester of her dreams...until the one man who can make her look up from her books crosses her path. Addison isn't the only one in the Quincy-Scoville family that is spending junior year at Bonimolean...

  She's the one beauty that keeps him from sleeping...

  Sage Scoville's reputation precedes him, and all his womanizing ways and bad boy antics can't hide the fact he is, through and through, a Scoville. He can lie to himself, but not to the animal within, which can take over his body when it wants. The last person Sage expects to see in his English literature course is the last person he wants to see...Addison Quincy, a girl who is totally, absolutely off-limits...but will this bad boy break the rules and pursue her anyway?

  The Scoville patriarch is playing chess with their love lives...so will it be checkmate, or fated mate?

  Morten Scoville may not have power in the USA, but once Addy and Sage make a Brexit and are in the EU, they get a summon from the Scoville Clan's true alpha, Sage's grandfather, the werebear who started the Quincy-Scoville rivalry to begin with. Will the curvy gal and the bad bear find a happily ever after, or will this romance get put to sleep at the Scoville Ball?

  The Feminine Mesquite is a five book series featuring the five curvy Quincy Sisters and the five alpha male polar bear shifters who are the heirs to the Scoville fortune. Can the ten heirs learn to get along, and will they find comfort in each other’s arms...or in each other’s beds? Each book is at least 25,000 words long, comprising a full-length novella. There are no cliffhangers, and every book ends with a guaranteed happily ever after (after all, these are fairy tales). These fairy tale romances feature everything you love from a bear shifter romance. Each book is a standalone, however, there is an overarching story. Don’t fret: if you haven’t read preceding book in the series, a short recap will be included in the first part of each book to get you up to speed...and you’ll want to read all five books because the last book’s epilogue features --, wait, why am I telling you? You’re going to need to read them all and find out for yourself!

  Look for all five books in this series on Amazon, all $0.99 or FREE via Kindle Unlimited (KU). “The Cinderella Cook-Off”, “Beauty And The BBQ”, “Spicy Beauty”, “The Matchstick Grill”, and “Little Red Hot Sauce” all have hot sauces and teas for making iced sweet tea that tie into the books, which you can find on www.shopsablesylvan.com.

  London: it was the city that so many cultural icons that Addison Quincy admired had either lived in, written about or both. This city was her oyster for three whole days, three days of exploring every nook and cranny, every bookshop and antique shop, that the foggy city had to offer. Addy and her sister’s boyfriend, Clove Scoville, had arrived in London three days before they had to meet with the Scoville family’s stylist. After all, now that Addy’s eldest sister, Alice, was marrying the eldest Scoville Brother, Herb Scoville, alpha of the Scoville clan, the Quincy Sisters had become part of the Scoville family. Over winter vacation, Addy’s second oldest sister, Abigail, had fallen for the second eldest Sc
oville Brother, Clove Scoville. On Christmas, Clove had proposed to Abigail, and Herb had given each of the Quincy Sisters a special gift. The gift that Herb gave Addison, the middle Quincy Sister, was a semester at the prestigious Bonimolean University, the college of choice for Europe’s elite shifter families. Bonimolean University had enjoyed the patronage of the Norwegian Scoville Polar Clan for centuries and was glad to do the Scovilles a favor.

  The only thing that Addison had to worry about was…well, it wasn’t important. Bonimolean University was big. There was no frikkin’ way she’d run into him if she didn’t want to.

  After days of visiting museums and galleries with her sister’s boyfriend, it was time for a visit to the Scoville family stylist. Now that Addison was practically shifter royalty, given that her two eldest sisters were engaged to two of the most eligible shifters in Europe, she had to look the part, and that meant a visit to the posh Carnaby Street.

  Clove and Addison got out of their cab and Clove led them to what looked like an abandoned storefront, boarded up, with yellowed newspaper pages covering the windows.

  “Are you sure we’re at the right place?” asked Addy. “It looks kinda…abandoned.”

  “Trust me. I’ve been here a thousand times,” said Clove before pressing a shiny brass doorbell.

  “A thousand?” asked Addy, a hand on her hip.

  “Hyperbole. You Americans are great at that, aren’t you?” asked Clove.

  The door opened.

  “Clove,” said the slim woman with nut brown hair. She was wearing heels that nearly made her taller than Clove. She brought Clove in and gave him a peck on each cheek.

  “Sabine,” said Clove. “A pleasure, as always. And this is…”

  “Addison,” said Sabine, crossing her arms and looking over Addy.

  Addy felt like a piece of meat.

  “Can I help you with something?” asked Addy.

  “I’m Sabine, Sabine Durand,” said Sabine, extending a hand. Her bracelets jingled.

  Addy shook her hand.

  “Addison Quincy,” said Addy.

  “Come in, let’s walk and talk,” said Sabine.

  Addy stepped in first, and Clove followed, closing the door.

  The interior of the store was just as shabby looking as the front…but Sabine led them along a hall that led to a door that had light coming out of the edges.

  “Right this way,” said Sabine.

  She opened the door, and Addison and Clove entered. When Addison saw the room, she had to put a hand over her mouth.

  The room was resplendent with a soft, plush white carpet. The cabinets were made of white wood and frosted white plastic. There were racks and racks of clothing.

  An assistant, who looked shifter to Addison, was wearing all black.

  “Can I get you some coffee, tea?” asked the assistant.

  “Tea’s fine,” said Addison.

  “Coffee,” said Clove.

  “Please, do take a seat,” said Sabine, motioning to a large white couch. She sat down on the gray velvet armchair across from the couch.

  “Thank you for making time to see us on such short notice,” said Clove.

  “Are you kidding? After all the Scovilles have done for us?” asked Sabine.

  “‘Us’?” asked Addison.

  “My mother, Lauren Durand, works for the Scovilles,” said Sabine. “They sent me to fashion school in Paris when I came of age, and before that, I was sent to the same private schools as Herb and the rest of the Scovilles.”

  “Lauren, Lauren…wait, the same Lauren that works at Mesquite Manor?” asked Addison.

  “You know her?” asked Sabine, lighting up.

  “Of course,” said Addison. “Did she tell you how hard she tanned Clove’s hide over break?”

  “Not yet, but I’ll have to ask her about it,” said Sabine. “Well, Addison, have you ever worked with a stylist before?”

  “Nope,” admitted Addison. “I’m a little worried that nothing here is going to look good on me.”

  “Trust me, you’ll fit in at Bonimolean,” said Sabine. “You think that Herb and the guys pick their own clothes out? No frikkin’ way. You should’ve seen them before I gave them their makeovers. I’ve even worked with your sister, Alice. She and Herb flew out last fall for a weekend.”

  “So, do I have to wear fancy dresses?” asked Addison. “I don’t care about clothes.”

  “If you don’t care about clothes, then why does it matter what you wear?” asked Sabine.

  “You got me there,” said Addison. “I don’t want anything high maintenance, I guess.”

  “You’re the kind of girl that showers, puts her hair in a ponytail, and goes to class, right?” asked Sabine.

  “Exactly,” said Addison.

  “You want things that are practical, but you still want to be taken seriously and fit in,” said Sabine. “A mix and match wardrobe, where you can pull out random items and have a good-looking outfit, is ideal for you…and of course, you need some extra things for dealing with the English weather, and for events.”

  “Events?” asked Addison. “I’m not here to party.”

  “Trust me, things will be…expected of you,” said Sabine. “You represent your sister and your family. You are the only Quincy Sister in Europe right now. There are expectations.”

  “More like unexpectations,” said Addy. “What sort of events do I need clothing for?”

  “You need a good selection of outfits so you can have something on hand for every situation,” said Sabine. “And any time you wear one, just put it in your laundry, and it’ll get swapped out for another appropriate outfit.”

  “It’ll get swapped out of the laundry? By who, the laundry fairies?” asked Addison. “That’s crazier than believing in vampires.”

  “They handle your laundry at Bonimolean,” explained Clove. “It includes dry cleaning.”

  “I have connections with the laundry department at Bonimolean,” said Sabine. “Just put the outfits in the specially marked garment bags they come in, and they get sorted and sent back to me.”

  “Why can’t I just wear the same outfit twice?” asked Addison.

  Sabine looked at Clove.

  “Is she serious?” asked Sabine. “I don’t think she understands how she’ll be treated at Bonimolean.”

  “Hello? I’m right here,” said Addy, crossing her arms.

  “You’re a Quincy, and two of your sisters are with Scoville Brothers,” explained Clove. “So, if somebody marries you…”

  “…Then what? They’ll get American citizenship?” asked Addy.

  “No, dear, they’ll forge a relationship with the Scovilles,” said Sabine. “Americans don’t have royalty, but at Bonimolean, you’ll be treated like what you are.”

  “Like what I am?” asked Addy.

  “Let me put it this way,” said Clove. “If Herb and Alice are the future emperor and empress of the spice world, that makes Abby and me the queen and king, and you…a princess.”

  “A princess?” asked Addy.

  “Not in title, but in terms of social reception, yes,” explained Sabine. “So, you need to look the part.”

  “Fine, but I’m not wearing heels,” Addy warned Sabine. “Heels are where I draw the line!”

  An hour later, Addy was in a pair of heels, the most gorgeous heels she’d ever worn, and they were to be her daytime heels. They felt like comfy sneakers. Maybe designer shoes weren’t all a rip-off. Addy looked at herself in the mirror. She barely recognized herself. She wasn’t wearing makeup but had been given a quick face wash and moisturizing treatment to clean her up a bit. Her hair would eventually be treated to maintain the texture she so desired (she had opted for a defrizzing treatment so that she could maintain a wavy hair texture). Her hair had been quickly put up in a neat bun, with a headband, and she was wearing a new pair of glasses that had been made for her before her visit, by one of the most fashionable optometry shops in London. The glasses were still thick and
cat-eyed, as was her preference.

  She was wearing a pearl necklace, with small gray pearls. On her body was a dress that had a structured skirt but an unstructured bodice. She could sit in it and have her knees covered, but it wasn’t long enough to look too matronly. The skirt was pleated, and the soft fabric and voluminous skirt both accentuated her curves. The dress was surprisingly comfortable. It was a daytime dress, but it still looked fancier than anything she was used to wearing.

  “Come on out and try on the cardigans,” said Sabine. “You’re lucky you like something in style.”

  “All right, all right,” said Addy. She walked out of the dressing room and closed the door behind her. The dressing rooms were on the second story of the giant boutique, which looked like a fancy private library in terms of form. The dressing rooms opened up onto a balcony, and then there was a curved staircase leading down the stairs to the main floor.

  Addy took hold of the guardrail and looked down. Sabine was sitting with her tablet and Clove was looking at himself in a mirror, comparing ties…but there was a third person there. He was wearing his usual outfit of a black shirt with a belt and jeans. This time, the shirt and belt had silver colored accents, and his jeans and sneakers were gray. The black streak in his hair remained.

  The figure was staring right at her, and she realized that he could see her staring back at him.

  It was Sage.

  Addy turned away, blushing. What the heck was he doing here? It didn’t take a stylist to come up with his outfits…at least, Addy didn’t think so. She’d seen outfits like that before on so many Southern bad boys. Sage was supposed to be in Oslo, at the Scoville Manor, visiting his grandfather. How the heck had he made it back to London so quickly? It was so hard to think of Sage as anything but a brash braggart of a bad boy that made the usually quiet, dreamy Addy want to argue with him. She had tried her best to ignore him when she’d first seen him over the previous summer, when her sister Alice and his older brother Herb had been rivals, before their engagement. She’d seen him next at the Mesquite Manor for Alice and Herb’s surprise engagement party, and she’d spent the winter break in the peace and quiet of Mesquite Manor. She’d only had to endure Sage’s presence on the flight from New York to London because Addy and Clove had flown from Texas to New York City and transferred onto the Scoville family’s private plane, which was taking Addy and Clove to London and taking Sage to Oslo.