Batch Made in Hell

Inherit the bakery. Feed the sourdough. Do NOT fall for the demon in the ironed apron.

Maeve Hollis's grandmother left her a bakery in a town the GPS refuses to admit exists, with conditions. Keep The Rising Moon running through the Maplemoon Festival. Pass the town Council's inspection. Bring a gift for the sourdough starter. (He's 103. He bites. He takes payment in secrets.)

Nobody mentioned the seven-foot hearth demon already running the ovens.

Ash has kept the bakery's fire for forty-three years: bound to the hearth by an old pact, devoted to a town he can only feed through the side window, courteous to a fault. He has horns as black as good chocolate, a tail with opinions, and a better lamination technique than Maeve, who trained under Michelin stars. He is absolutely not going to fall for the new keeper.

Then a creaseless corporate scout wants to buy the whole bakery, with Ash listed in the inventory as a fixture asset.

Maeve has spent her whole career watching other people put their names on what she loves. Not this time.

Batch Made in Hell is a complete, standalone cozy small-town paranormal romance with fresh bread, meddling aunties, a sentient sourdough with a hero complex, a grumpy demon who irons his apron, and a sunshine witch who names her stand mixer. Open door. No cliffhanger. Guaranteed happily ever after.

Tropes: fated mates · grumpy meets sunshine · forced proximity (he literally cannot leave) · found family · monster boyfriend · size difference · he falls first

Heat level: 4/5, open door and explicit. He is very good with his hands, and the oven is not the only thing running hot.