Kace is a baker (among other things)
Let me start off by saying:
If characters were cupcakes I would be very, very hungry while writing.
Cool, associated with winter...
Yep, Kace is a chocolate cupcake with a vanilla frosting and candy cane crumbles on top. Will possibly cut you if you're not careful. (Have you ever had your mouth cut by a piece of peppermint? Because ow)
Lily would be one of those adorable white cake cupcakes with the cream cheese frosting and a sprinkling of ....well, sprinkles
Brent would be a cheesecake cupcake topped with cream cheese frosting and a strawberry.
(I know cheesecake isn't really cake, but shush)
Also because he is cheesy
Liam would be a mocha cupcake because shares Lily's love of coffee and he pretends he's cooler and fancier then all the other chocolate cupcakes, but he is actually just a...well.... tiny cupcake.
Kace's Mom, (Yes, the CIA Agent) is elegant, fancy, and bloody beautiful. So she is a raspberry dark chocolate cupcake. With super fancy raspberry marbled through the white frosting.
Kace's Dad, is sweet and kind of nutty. So naturally, his cupcake needs peanut butter. And nothing goes better with peanut butter then chocolate. (And I just realized that Kace, her mom and her dad all have the same cupcake base...)
Lily's Mom (when she isn't a superhero kicking people in the face) is one of those happy, smiling moms. Think lemon-aid cupcake with rose pink colored frosting and a wafer thin lime balanced on top.
Lily's Dad is a red velvet cake. And please don't ask me why because I haven't figured out his personality enough. *cries into hands*
And we can't forget Lily's brothers.
If they were cupcakes, you can bet they'd be devil's food cake with a thick rich chocolate frosting.
Because everyone loves them and they tend to make a mess where ever they go...
And while we're talking about cupcakes how about a snippet?
Mom was still out of town and Dad was just about to leave for work. And I? I was in the kitchen, passive-aggressively baking in an attempt to work off my anger. It’s weird, but it works. Normally I make a batch of cookies and I feel better.
I could hear Dad puttering around in the hall but I knew he wouldn’t come in here. Everyone has learned to just avoid me and let me work out my emotions. That or get a rubber spatula to the forehead…
The oven timer went off and I slipped a pair of giant red oven mitts onto my hands. I’m not sure if I’d like oven mitts to be smaller and actually fit my hands or if I like them bigger… I know what I’d really like. If they could make oven mitts that went a little farther up your arm. I have to matching scars on my forearms where I accidentally burned my arms on the top of the oven while pulling things out.
I whipped the two trays of cookies out of the oven and set them down on the stove top to cool. Then I busied myself by flying around the kitchen, gathering up dirty bowls, throwing mixing spoons across the room into the sink. I was doing fine until I bumped into the cookie sheets on the oven with the side of my hand and burned it.
And I may have said something…inappropriate. In French.
Then I did the classic mutter angry things under your breath and stick your hand in cold water. As I was leaning on the sink with my hand under running water, I hear someone say,
“So…do you always swear in French?”
I snapped my head around, hair flying, to see Brent leaning in the doorway with that stupid amused look on his face.
“Your dad let me in.” He added and I continued to stand there and stare at him.
Why was he in my house? And of course Dad would let him in. I can just see Brent meeting him at the door, introducing himself and shaking his hand. ‘Hi. I’m Brent. Do you mind if I come in and completely ruin your daughter’s day and her plans of solitude?’ and my dad being all. ‘Sure. Sure. Go right on in’ as he walks by, whistling off to work.