Has anyone ever had to have that weird and different conversation with your partner on each others standards of clean??? Lmk in the comments y’all!!!
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Your Weekly Plethora
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I’ve gone through some things lately and had some conversations that have led me to believe that my Bible characters will be between Peter and Job. that’s enough said, but I do wanna open a discussion for anybody who feels like they have a character right now in the Bible that resonates with themselves and what they might be going through.
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check this short novel out on Amazon e-book
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FULL DISCLAIMER THIS IS MY FIRST SHORT STORY ENCASING MY FICTIONAL INTEREST & HOBBIES…
One autumn night, as she leaned on the pass-through window and surveyed her crowded dining room, her gaze landed on someone unfamiliar.
At table seven sat a man whose presence shifted the air itself. Broad shoulders, sharp features, and a scent that teased her senses: citrus and warmth, something she could almost taste.
Her sous chef murmured behind her, “Chef… you don’t know who that is?”
She shook her head slowly.
“That’s Kiman Cross. The critic.”
The critic. The man whose words had destroyed empires and made immortals out of chefs.
And he was eating her food.
The Chase
After that night, Lheyla couldn’t get him out of her mind. She researched him obsessively—his reviews, his interviews, even his fleeting social media posts. He wrote about food with a reverence most men reserved for sex: steak with chimichurri described like foreplay, citrus-glazed salmon as though it could make a man weep.
When she discovered he would be at a culinary festival in a neighboring city, she made sure her schedule was clear. “Coincidence,” she would call it. But it was no accident.
Their meeting felt fated. Kiman noticed her instantly, as though drawn by gravity. Conversation sparked, easy and intimate, flowing from favorite dishes to guilty pleasures. She didn’t tell him she was a vampire. He didn’t tell her he was a critic. They simply… connected.
By night’s end, they were tangled in his sheets, mouths hungry, hands everywhere.
The Bite
Lheyla had centuries of control. But Kiman’s taste was overwhelming. As he kissed down her neck, she gave in,fangs grazing, then piercing lightly.
He groaned, mistaking it for passion.
For her, it was ecstasy. His blood was fire, citrus, and salt. She bit just enough to savor, then forced herself to stop.
Later, as they lay spent, Kiman teased, “That was the best meal I’ve ever had.”
She smiled darkly. “That was the best I’ve ever tasted.”
He frowned, confused. “Tasted?”
Her lips brushed his ear. “What if I told you I was a vampire? And your blood is the finest thing I’ve ever tasted?”
At first, he laughed. Then he remembered the sharp pinch of her bite.
“You mean… that was real?”
She bared just enough fang to glint in the moonlight. “Usually I bite harder. Tonight, I only wanted to see how far you’d let me go.”
He should have run. Instead, he tilted his throat toward her.
“Then don’t stop.”
Food & Flesh
After that night, they became inseparable.
She cooked for him: ribeye with chimichurri that stained his lips green, Salmon Wellington that flaked under his fork, Bronzino that crackled with herbs. At breakfast, she crowned roasted tomatoes with poached eggs and spiced hollandaise, and he devoured them with reverence.
And in return, he gave her himself. A wrist offered after dinner. A shoulder in the dark. His neck, pulsing, as she drank just enough.
He teased, “Food critic by day, midnight feast by night.”
She laughed more than she had in centuries.
Sometimes she bit him as he sipped Malbec, the tang of blood and wine mingling on her tongue. Sometimes, mid-embrace, when his body arched against hers, she sank her fangs deeper, until pleasure and hunger blurred into one.
And he always let her.
The Impossible Child
Months passed. Lheyla admitted something she’d never confessed: vampires weren’t meant to feel this much. And yet she loved him.
They married in a quiet ceremony in Ravenshade, beneath lanterns strung across an old stone courtyard. Neither spoke of children. Neither dared imagine.
But three months later, she discovered the impossible. She was pregnant.
Kiman panicked—what would their child be? Human? Vampire? Some terrible hybrid? But when their daughter, Liora, was born, she appeared perfectly healthy. Human laughter, human warmth. For two years, life was almost ordinary.
Until one night, while playing, Liora bit her father. And didn’t let go.
By the time Lheyla pulled her off, Kiman’s blood had changed. His body trembled as eternity took root inside him.
Forever Questions
Kiman hadn’t planned on immortality. He was ready to grow old, ready to die human, content that Lheyla and Liora would live on. But fate had bound him otherwise.
Holding his daughter, who now bore the faintest budding fangs, he whispered, “When does she stop aging, Lheyla? Five? Twenty? Will she live forever like us?”
Lheyla took his hand, her ancient eyes soft.
“We’ll find out together.”
Closing
Love wears many faces. Sometimes it is a meal shared across a table, sometimes it is a bite in the dark. For Kiman and Lheyla, hunger was only the beginning.
And in Ravenshade, at a little restaurant called I Don’t Bite, their story became legend.
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One of the things I love most about chili is how it fits into any season, any mood, and any table. Whether it’s the chill of winter or the heat of summer, a good bowl of chili always feels just right — especially when paired with rice.
Recently, I treated myself to two different bowls: a rich, hearty red chili followed closely by a creamy, comforting white chili. Both were served with a scoop of rice and dressed up with toppings — and let me just say, it was absolutely marvelous. The rice not only added texture and balance, but also soaked up all that flavor like a perfect little partner.
Of course, everyone has their own style when it comes to chili. Some love it with rice, some prefer it without. For toppings, it could be anything from sour cream and cheese to onions, jalapeños, or cilantro. And then there’s the question of balance — do you prefer chili with just a hint of rice, or do you go for a one-to-one ratio?
👉 So I’m curious: How do you prefer your chili?
- With rice or without?
- Loaded with toppings or kept simple?
- Do you like it in perfect ratio, or does the chili take center stage?
- White chili or Red?
Drop your thoughts below — I’d love to hear how you enjoy your chili!