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- Herausgeber: Warren Fjord
- Sprache: Englisch
Welcome to Millstone—where every loaf carries a secret, and love is the most dangerous ingredient of all.
In a sleepy little town, Mrs. Pringle’s bakery is more than just the place for bread—it is the keeper of whispered truths. Inside her golden loaves appear messages no hand admits to writing… messages that can spark romance, ignite rivalries, or tear hearts apart.
When schoolmistress Clara Dawson and blacksmith’s apprentice Tom Larkin fall under the oven’s spell, their love becomes the town’s favorite scandal. Is the bread revealing destiny—or ruining lives? As gossip rises faster than dough, the people of Millstone must decide whether Mrs. Pringle’s bakery is blessed, cursed, or simply the truest mirror of the human heart.
Blending small-town humor, tender romance, and a pinch of mystery, The Mysterious Bakery: A Place Where Love Was Baked In A Secret is a warm yet biting tale about love, pride, and the secrets we all carry—served fresh, with a crust of wit and a heart full of hope.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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THE MYSTERIOUS BAKERY
A Place Where Love Was Baked In A Secret
Written
By
WARREN FJORD
Copyright © 2025 Warren Fjord’s Publishing
All rights reserved.
ISBN:
TABLE OF CONTENTS
DEDICATION
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
PREFACE
BOOK BLURB
CHAPTER ONE
The Town That Smelled Of Bread
CHAPTER TWO
Mrs. Pringle’s Reputation
CHAPTER THREE
A Loaf with Too Much Salt
CHAPTER FOUR
Gossip Rises Quicker Than Dough
CHAPTER FIVE
The Stranger Who Asked Too Much
CHAPTER SIX
The Judge Buys A Loaf
CHAPTER SEVEN
Love In The Oven
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bread Of Betrayal
CHAPTER NINE
The Sheriff’s Trouble
CHAPTER TEN
The Loaf I Feared to Eat
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Thursday Crowds
CHAPTER TWELVE
Bread and Broken Hearts
Chapter THIRTEEN
A Whispered Proposal
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Town Splits in Two
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Midnight Smell
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The Preacher Preaches Bread
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Milton Schemes
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tom’s Doubt
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A Night Of Strange Sounds
CHAPTER TWENTY
The Loaf Of Warning
CHAPTER TWENTY -ONE
Gossip Bakes Faster Than Bread
CHAPTER TWENTY -TWO
Tom’s Anger
CHAPTER TWENTY -THREE
Clara’s Visit
CHAPTER TWENTY -FOUR
Milton’s Triumph
CHAPTER TWENTY -FIVE
The Fire That Almost Was
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The Bakery Besieged
CHAPTER TWENTY -SEVEN
Clara’s Silence
CHAPTER TWENTY -EIGHT
Tom’s Challenge
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Milton Stirs The Pot
CHAPTER THIRTY
The Bakery Shutters
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
A Town Without Bread
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Clara’s Confession
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Tom At The Door
CHAPTER THIRTY -FOUR
Milton’s Rise
CHAPTER THIRTY -FIVE
The Whisper in the Night
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
The Return Of The Loaves
CHAPTER THIRTY -SEVEN
Clara’s Dilemma
CHAPTER THIRTY -EIGHT
Milton’s Boast
CHAPTER THIRTY -NINE
A Meeting Called
CHAPTER FOURTY
The Loaf of Fire
CHAPTER FOURTY ONE
Bread Under Lock and Key
CHAPTER FOURTY -TWO
Clara’s Decision
CHAPTER FOURTY THREE
Tom’s Doubt Quenched
CHAPTER FOURTY-FOUR
Milton’s Last Stand
CHAPTER FOURTY FIVE
The Midnight Secret Revealed
CHAPTER FOURTY-SIX
A Wedding Loaf
CHAPTER FOURTY -SEVEN
The Town Softens
CHAPTER FOURTY -EIGHT
The Stranger Departs
CHAPTER FOURTY- NINE
Mrs. Pringle’s Secret
CHAPTER FIFTY
Bread Enough for All
"In the little town of Millstone, where the river was too lazy to flow straight and the people too stubborn to bend either, there stood a bakery that smelled of secrets. Folks said you couldn’t buy a roll there without carrying away more than you bargained for. And I, being young and foolish—or perhaps just foolish—went in one morning looking for bread and came out with a story I’m obliged to tell you, whether you believe it or not."
DEDICATION
To all the quiet ovens of the world,
and to the hands that knead more love than bread.
This tale is for the dreamers who believe flour can rise into hope,
and for the skeptics who still peek inside every loaf,
just in case it whispers their name.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
The author tips his hat—though never quite enough to hide his bald spot—to the good people of Millstone, who never existed outside of ink and imagination, but behaved just as foolishly as if they had.
Thanks also to every baker, honest or otherwise, who has ever pulled a loaf from the fire. Without their quiet sorcery, this book would be as flat as last week’s biscuit.
And lastly, to the readers—who chew patiently through my words as though they were crusts worth buttering. May you find in these pages a crumb of truth, a slice of laughter, and maybe even a whole loaf of comfort.
PREFACE
It has been said that nothing spreads faster in a small town than butter on hot bread—except, perhaps, gossip. This story concerns both, with a fair dash of love baked in, and a pinch of folly too generous to measure.
You will not find here lessons in cookery, nor reliable instruction on courtship. If you come searching for those, you are bound to go home as hungry as you arrived. But if you wish to see how ordinary hearts can mistake grief for witchcraft, or how truth may be disguised in something as simple as a loaf of bread, then you are in the right kitchen.
The Mysterious Bakery Where Love Was Baked in Secret is not a history but a parable dressed in gingham. It is the story of one widow, one oven, and a town too small to hold its own tongue. And yet, as with all tales, it may resemble places and people you have known—especially if you have ever loved, doubted, or hungered.
So take a chair, slice yourself a piece, and butter it well. The bread is warm, and the story, I hope, worth the chewing.
BOOK BLURB
In the quiet town of Millstone, nothing ever stirs—except gossip, and the ovens of Mrs. Pringle’s little yellow bakery. Her bread is famous not just for its golden crust, but for the secrets it seems to hide. Notes slip from warm loaves, whispering truths no one dares to say aloud.
When young Clara Dawson, the schoolmistress, finds her heart entangled with Tom Larkin, the blacksmith’s apprentice, their romance is tested not by rivals or distance, but by the strange messages baked into bread. The town divides—some call it miracle, others witchcraft—and every roll, bun, and loaf becomes a battleground of faith, fear, and desire.
With humor as sharp as a crusty heel and tenderness as soft as the bread’s heart, this tale unravels the mysteries of love, pride, and sorrow. As secrets rise and tempers flare, Millstone must decide: is Mrs. Pringle a witch, a widow, or simply a woman who knows the true recipe for hope?
The Mysterious Bakery Where Love Was Baked in Secret is a satirical, heartwarming tale in the spirit of Twain—part love story, part small-town comedy, and part parable about the truths we hunger for and the lies we swallow too easily.
CHAPTER ONE
The Town That Smelled Of Bread
In the town of Millstone, folks said the river had two currents: one for the fish and one for the gossip. The gossip usually swam faster. You couldn’t sneeze in Millstone without someone declaring it a prophecy. And right in the middle of that gossip-stream stood a little bakery, painted a nervous shade of yellow, as though the walls themselves had secrets to hide.
Now, I don’t make it my business to believe everything people tell me. Truth, in my experience, is a slippery fellow, fond of disguises and quick getaways. But I admit the first time I stepped into Mrs. Pringle’s bakery, I smelled more than flour and yeast. I smelled curiosity, suspicion, and something warmer—like sugar melting too slowly on a fire.
––––––––
Mrs. Pringle herself was a widow with a sly smile and a talent for kneading dough as though she was punishing it for misbehaving. She’d been running that shop for twenty years, and in all that time, not one loaf had ever been thrown to the hogs. Some said that was because her bread was perfect. Others, with more sense, said it was because she laced each loaf with knowledge of people’s secrets, and no man dares waste the bread that knows his shame.
The first morning I walked in, I asked for a roll, and Mrs. Pringle looked at me as though she’d been expecting me since the day I was born. She wrapped the roll, leaned close, and whispered, “Careful with that, son. Bread tells the truth better than people do.”
I laughed, of course. A man must laugh when he’s nervous. But the moment I bit into that roll, I tasted something I’d never ordered: the memory of a woman’s smile I’d long tried to forget.
