Forbidden Churn
Welcome to the tastefully smutty, biblically inspired Amish romance series you didn’t know you needed. This is your introduction to the steamy world of slow-burn scripture recitations and scandalous butter churning.
In the quiet, rolling hills of Lancaster County, where the fields are bountiful and the courtships modest, one woman dares to dream of more than quilts and cows.
Marybeth Yoder was destined for an ordinary life—quilting bees, Sunday potlucks, and the occasional thrilling barn-raising. But everything changes when Elijah Miller, the brooding carpenter with hands as rough as his faith is strong, returns to the village with a gaze as smoldering as a hearth on a winter’s night.
What begins with a simple butter-churning contest ignites a slow-burn of scandalous tension, steamy scripture recitations, and unspoken desires beneath the soft glow of lantern light. As Marybeth and Elijah navigate forbidden feelings, meddling elders, and whispered gossip, they’ll need more than their faith to stay on the righteous path—or risk churning their own fate into ruin.
Join them on an unforgettable journey through temptation, tradition, and provocatively prudent prayer circles. From haylofts to hymnals, this online series is packed with chapters of faith-fueled yearning, heartwarming humor, and the tantalizing slow drip of forbidden attraction.
Will Marybeth heed her heart’s call, or will she marry the man who owns the general store, forever wondering what could have been? Will Elijah break tradition for love, or remain shackled by the rules of his ancestors?
One thing is certain: in Forbidden Churn, sometimes the heart must churn before it can truly soften.
Season One includes:
📄️ Chapter 1: A Stirring in the Cream
In the quiet dawn of Lancaster County, where the fields stretched wide like a patchwork quilt of golden corn and green alfalfa, Marybeth Yoder awoke to the soft hum of life on the farm. The rooster crowed with its usual self-importance, but today, it felt like a prelude to something... monumental.
📄️ Chapter 10: The Butter Feast
The harvest moon rose fat and golden over Lancaster, bathing the fields in a glow that seemed almost unearthly. The Yoders’ yard had been transformed into a feast: long trestle tables groaning under platters of bread, jugs of cider, crock after crock of butter fresh from the churn. Lanterns swung from poles, casting halos of light where neighbors gathered, laughing, gossiping, singing.
📄️ Chapter 2: Plunging Into Temptation
The lantern’s soft glow illuminated the hayloft, casting golden halos over the piles of hay. The night was quiet, save for the distant hum of crickets in the fields below. Marybeth Yoder sat on the edge of the wooden beam, her heart pounding like a hymn sung off-tempo. She was supposed to be at home, knitting by the fire and reciting scripture for her younger siblings. Instead, she was here—in the loft—waiting.
📄️ Chapter 3: The Heat of the Creamery
Marybeth Yoder had always liked the creamery best in the morning, when the floorboards still kept the chill of night and the windowlight came in like quiet ribbon—soft, unjudging. She was twenty-three now, well past rumspringa, baptized last autumn along with three of her cousins, and the work of her hands had become the way she measured days. Milk to cream, cream to butter, labor to blessing. Simple arithmetic the heart could bear.
📄️ Chapter 4: Whispers at the Quilting Bee
The bishop’s parlor had been cleared of its heavy oak furniture, leaving only a wide expanse of polished floorboards. Across the center stretched the quilt frame, propped on four sturdy legs, holding taut the top of a nine-patch pieced from every shade of calico in the district. Women gathered like bees around honeycomb, each with needle and thread flashing in the lamplight. The air smelled of starch, lamp oil, and Sister Leah’s molasses cookies cooling on the sideboard.
📄️ Chapter 5: Lantern Light in the Barn
The sun rose red behind the ridge, throwing long beams over the fields where hammers already rang. A barn-raising called the whole district together, and by breakfast time men had swarmed the skeleton frame, their shouts and laughter echoing like hymns. Women carried platters of bread and crockery full of stew. Children darted like chicks, gathering bent nails and dropping them again.
📄️ Chapter 6: The Rival’s Proposal
The first cool breath of September threaded through the valley, carrying with it the smell of apples and turned soil. Marybeth Yoder walked the lane with her basket of mended shirts, the morning sun warm at her back. She loved this season best—when the world seemed stitched together by equal parts labor and blessing. Yet lately even the gentlest air felt heavy. Whispers from the quilting bee still lingered, and the barn-raising had only added fuel.
📄️ Chapter 7: The Scripture Circle
The little schoolhouse sat at the edge of the meadow, its whitewashed walls glowing pale in the fading light. On Thursday evenings it became the gathering place for the scripture circle, where the young folk met to read aloud, sing hymns, and discuss passages under the lantern’s watchful glow. For Marybeth, it had always been a place of order and comfort. Tonight, the benches felt narrow and her heart beat far too loud.
📄️ Chapter 8: Temptation Under Lamplight
The creamery always smelled different at night. In the morning it was cool and clean, a place of order. At night, under lamplight, the air grew thick with warmth and shadow. Marybeth had never thought to find herself here after sundown—yet here she was, sleeves rolled, dasher in hand, coaxing butter long past the hour when decent folk had shuttered their lamps.
📄️ Chapter 9: Gossip on the Wind
By Sunday morning, the whispers had already taken root. Marybeth felt them before she heard them—small glances exchanged at the meetinghouse door, the quick turn of shoulders when she passed, the way laughter died too suddenly when her name was near. Amish tongues seldom stayed still, but this was different. This was sharper.
Perfect for readers who believe that even in the most pious of places, desire can run deep and churn even deeper.
Caution: Contains suggestive scripture readings, shoulder touches, and one particularly sinful moment involving a hand-carved rocking chair.