Due to sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.
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Nobody would have ever expected such a shop lay among those large, national-brand bakeries. It was a small unassuming place with small unassuming windows that looked out on the busy street. Small pictures were stenciled onto the glass showing some of their tasty treats. Everything from cupcakes to scones was advertised, along with the name of the shop, Mr. Eres' Sensual Sweets.
There was an awning over the front that stuck out to kindly protect those who passed by from drizzly rain and harsh sun. It also invited them inside where many a diet was ruined. All one need do is walk those steps to the glory of those pastries and desserts, which all deemed heavenly and some whispered witchcraft. The witchcraft rumors were from the lack of any dissatisfied customers. No one had ever brought a complaint to neighbor, friend, or relative about the delicious sweets, even though they bemoaned the fate of their waistlines. No one could find fault with Mr. Eres' cakes, breads, or sweets; they were all so magically perfect.
Another funny thing was how so many people ended up at the little sweet shop in the first place. None of them ever intended to be there, much less purchase one of those mouth-watering foods, but there a person would be minding their own business and suddenly stop on the sidewalk in front of the shop. Those workers in the buildings across the way swore those people were mesmerized and forced inside the place. Some even took the walk themselves, but no one could ever repeat the trick.
Others were bolder and, when the outside perusal failed to satisfy their curiosity, they'd go inside the shop. The place was a treasure-trove of delicious delights. The walls were covered with tubs of hard and soft candies of all kinds, from jawbreakers and lollipops to old-fashioned, caramel and rock candy. At the front counter that ran along most of one wall were cases of baked goods dripping with frosting. Donuts, cakes, cookies and every enjoyable and fattening thing sat beneath the glass waiting for a hungry buyer. Behind the counter lay the fresh bread, each type tucked away in their own little cubby holes.
What amazed everyone who came inside was that all that sweets were made right in that small shop. No one could fathom how big the back cooking area had to be to produce such a large quantity and variety, and no one was allowed back there. A sign hung on the door that led to the back which read Employees Only. The funny part was that Mr. Eres was the only employee, or at least the only one anyone ever saw. Nobody ever saw him leave, either, but deliveries were made to the shop for the ingredients to all those delicious treats. Everyone assumed maybe he lived in the upper story, though nobody ever walked in front of those windows with the white lace curtains.
Those bold workers who dared to go into the lion's den never got the last laugh on their more cautious coworkers. There was never any jeering about superstitious people and their rumors, because every single person who went into that shop came out with something. Even if it was just a donut or a cookie, once inside they felt an irresistible urge to buy something from those well-stocked shelves. They couldn't explain it to themselves, and those who felt it couldn't even explain it to each other. It was a silent command to buy and eat a food that would make you smile, and it did.
Those were the oddities of the store wedged between the chain-store bakeries. Small and unassuming, but it was steeped in wonderful mysteries. What a lot of people didn't know, however, was that beneath those strange happenings were even stranger stories filled with romance and righteous revenge. This is one of those stories.