The Starstruck Chef

Published by: eXtasy Books

Author : Gabriella Bradley

ISBN :978-1-4874-4394-8

Page :277

Word Count :78000

Publication Date :2026-02-20

Series : #

Heat Level :

Available Formats :

Category : , Science Fiction Romance , Science Fiction

BrandsExtasy Books
Product Code: 978-1-4874-4394-8

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Love, laughter, and danger simmer together aboard The Starstruck Chef, where every dish carries the weight of dreams and the fate of worlds.

Evania LeClair has always believed food could change lives. She never expected it might change the universe.

Armed with her recipes, a crew of quirky androids, and a pilot with secrets of his own, Eva sets out to bring joy to the stars with her dream ship, The Starstruck Chef. But interstellar cuisine is trickier than she imagined—alien markets hold mysteries, rival chefs play dirty, and magic has a way of slipping into the kitchen.

As passions simmer and danger brews, Eva must discover whether the courage in her heart can match the fire in her oven. Because, in the vast reaches of space, the right dish can open doors…or ignite wars.

Three weeks after the Fitzgimmons windfall, Eva’s kitchen table had transformed into the headquarters of an impossible plan. Starship catalogs lay open beside spreadsheets and financial projections, coffee rings marking the pages she’d returned to repeatedly. The gold coins had been exchanged for credit, and the gems had been appraised, sold, and the proceeds added to her savings. Eva tapped her stylus against the edge of her tablet, the quiet rhythm matching her thoughts. Across from her, Lotti stood motionless, processing the information Eva had just shared about her intention to leave Earth behind.

“Let me understand,” Lotti finally said, her blue eyes blinking in sequence. “You intend to liquidate all Earth-based assets, your catering business, this house, and all personal possessions, to purchase a spacecraft and pursue culinary innovation in space.”

Eva nodded, pushing aside a catalog to reveal another beneath it. “Not just any spacecraft. Something with room for a culinary kitchen, quarters for a small crew, and cargo space for supplies and ingredients.”

“The profit margins for such an enterprise are…uncertain.” Lotti’s tone remained neutral, but Eva had learned to recognize her version of concern.

“That’s putting it mildly.” Eva laughed, leaning back in her chair. “But think about it, Lotti, hardly anyone does any real cooking in space. It’s all replicator food, meal packets, and nutrition bars up there. On ships. Imagine being the first to create actual cuisine for spacers, to discover ingredients on other worlds, and even introduce meals from Earth on other planets.”

She stood and paced the small kitchen, her energy and excitement making it impossible to remain seated. “I’ve been researching for years, taking those night classes in space navigation, studying xenobiology. Everyone thought it was just a weird hobby.”

“Including me,” Lotti acknowledged. “I calculated a ninety-seven percent probability it was stress relief from kitchen work.”

Eva pulled up images on her tablet, sketches of galley designs adapted for low gravity, lists of Earth ingredients that might travel well, and research on hydroponic growing systems.

“My family’s been running the same Earth-bound restaurant for four generations,” Eva said, her voice softening. “Same location, same classic French techniques, same loyal customers. When I told them I wanted to try molecular gastronomy, you’d think I’d suggested serving poison. When I left home to buy my own place and start my catering business, my grandfather didn’t speak to me for a year.”

She turned the tablet toward Lotti, showing a sleek mid-sized explorer vessel. “Imagine what they’d say about this.”

Lotti studied the image, her head tilted at a precise angle. “The Jupiter-class Explorer. Manufactured on the Mars Orbital Shipyard. Adequate life support for a crew of seven. Used market value approximately seventy-five percent of your current liquid assets.”

“But worth every credit,” Eva insisted. “I’ve spent my whole life playing it safe, Lotti. Opening the catering business was the wildest thing I’ve ever done, and even that was just a small step from the family restaurant.”

She traced her finger along the ship’s outline on the screen. “This is my one chance to do something truly different. I keep thinking, what if there’s a spice on Zonondero that makes everything taste like childhood memories? Or fruits on Grondoria that change flavor depending on who eats them?”

Lotti processed this, the small display on her chest cycling through calculations. “That is fantasy. The practical aspects can be addressed. Crew recruitment, supply chains, navigation permits.” She paused. “But may I ask a question of a more philosophical nature?”

Eva looked up, surprised. “Of course.”

“What does a dream feel like?” Lotti’s voice contained genuine curiosity. “You reference to this concept frequently, but my programming contains insufficient data to understand its subjective experience.”

The question caught Eva off guard. She set down her tablet, considering how to explain something so intangible.

“A dream feels like… hunger, but not for food,” she began slowly. “It’s like an itch under your skin that you can’t scratch. When I think about cooking in space, discovering new ingredients that no human has ever tasted, I get a feeling in my chest…tight, but not painful. Like my heart is trying to pull me forward.”

She walked to the window, looking up at the night sky. “Dreams don’t make rational sense, Lotti. That’s kind of the point. They’re wishes that feel important enough to rearrange your whole life for, even when everyone tells you they’re impossible.”

Lotti stood perfectly still, processing. Her eyes dimmed slightly as internal systems worked through complex calculations. “So a dream is an irrational directive that overrides logical decision-making processes?”

Eva laughed. “That’s one way to put it, yes.”

“Yet you intend to follow this directive despite knowing its irrational nature.”

“Because following it feels more right than ignoring it,” Eva said, turning back to face her. “Not following your dreams…it’s like slowly suffocating. You can live that way, but not fully.”

After several seconds of silence, Lotti’s eyes brightened again. “Illogical. Yet admirable. I will support this dream.”

Eva felt an unexpected lump in her throat. “Thanks, Lotti. That means a lot.”

“I have added support Eva’s dream to my primary directive list,” she said matter-of-factly. “It now ranks above ensuring proper table settings but below preventing kitchen fires.”

“Glad to know where I stand,” Eva said with a grin.