Blackbeard Tavern Novels & Stories

Mother popped open her black silk umbrella, holding it over both of us as she guided me toward the neon-lit entrance of the tavern. The sign above the doorway flickered in buzzing blue and crimson neon, spelling out The Cracked Tusk. Two massive bouncers who looked like they had been dishonorably discharged from the pack guard years ago stood under the dripping awning. They narrowed their eyes at us as we approached. Our designer coats, silk dresses, and the unmistakable scent of high-ranking noble blood stood out in this gutter like a splash of blood on white snow. One of them shifted his weight, preparing to step into our path.

"When have I ever been anything but a sweet, quiet girl, neighbor boy?" Celt lets out a low, gravelly laugh that vibrates straight through the floorboards. He doesn't bring up the black-market potion dens or the silver blade I keep strapped to my thigh. Twenty minutes later, the sedan pulls up to a secluded, stone-walled tavern nestled in the northern quarters of Silverpine City—a high-tier dining den reserved for pack leaders and high-ranking enforcers. We step into a private timber booth lined with dark fur. I toss my canvas work bag onto the wooden bench, grab the leather menu, and order three heavy cuts of seared venison without a second thought.

Long enough that she barely recognized the rocky ground anymore, the scattered little buildings dotting the edge of the docks, the mist coating the sky like a shroud. A man with a long, scruffy beard guided Claire down the gangplank without a word, and she followed without asking questions, the same way she’d followed instructions for longer than she cared to count. He led her past the fish stalls and rope nets drying in the sun, into a part of the port where the buildings leaned into each other, the wood warped with salt and wind, until they reached a door with a faded sign above it. Salty’s Tavern, the sign read. Or once it did. Now it was just a smattering of chipped paint and rotten wood

Michael Lowe spins his pint of beer in a circle, his eyes scanning the run-down dive bar and its grizzly patrons. He wrinkles his nose when a duo of rough looking vampires walk by, baring their fangs at our table. “It stinks here,” he says under his breath before sipping from his glass. “The beer’s not bad, though.” The tavern, tucked on the far edge of my parents’ kingdom, isn’t somewhere I’d normally hang out, but Deacon insisted we meet him here.

The only sound was the clicking of their claws on the glass. When we got to the cliffs the air was different. It was heavy with salt. It smelled like the ocean. The Shiver was below it was a city made from old ships. Stay close Malachi said. This is not a place. There are no rules only money and power. We walked through the docks. There were sea-wolves everywhere they were big and hairy with webbed fingers. They looked at us they sensed the power of Helios. We went to a tavern called The Drowned Anchor. Inside it was smoky. The floor was covered in sand. We met Captain Vane he was a man with a beard and a missing eye.

She found a message from Moses. Duck and cover. There was a link to something on YouTube. Frowning, she loaded the video. As soon as it filled her screen, her fingers tightened on the phone. "Oh shit." * * * To Athena's mind, some disasters unequivocally merited getting shit-faced. As it happened, there were only two places to get drunk in Eden's Ridge. Elvira's Tavern catered to the respectable crowd, the nice folks who rarely indulged enough to start a bar fight. As it was also where Kennedy worked as a bartender, and as Athena had absolutely no intention of talking this shit out with her sisters, it was automatically off the table.

“Private as in lupus garous are the only ones permitted. At first I didn’t realize you were Larissa’s sister, but I soon realized you were one of us. Deputy Trevor nodded at them from the bar as they pulled into a parking spot, his brow furrowed. Why is he in this place? Mitchel complained. Sam added, “Darien’s orders to make sure we get the little woman into the tavern safely. The crowd parted to make space for Sam to unlock the door, but he relocked it after he, Silva, Lelandi, and Mitchell entered the institution. Lelandi shuddered as she recalled her anxiety when she had initially entered the tavern and what had happened after she had left. Silva gave her a tight grip before guiding her

A black curly beard flowed halfway down his chest. "Hello, Captian." Shobek gave him a respectful nod before taking another swig of the whiskey. "You have a fine collection of booze, by the way." The Captian chuckled, "suppose ya' mean had since half it be gone now." Shobek gave him an apologetic smile, "I do apologize for that. I never was a heavy drinker till recently." The Captian bobbed his head toward the door, "Ye lady frien' be given ya' trouble then?"

Though my inner wolf is not fond of the loud, wild tavern scene, the thought of the silver coins makes my beast relent. Promptly at 7 PM, I show up at the Blissful Uncle’s Tavern, the city’s most opulent watering hole and a veritable gold mine for the high packs. The crowd inside this stone tavern is either loaded with gold or carries massive pack influence from the high council. Despite having to wear a slightly revealing black leather dress and high heels that my wolf absolutely detests, I find the drink chores tolerable. In just over an hour, my hands have already sold three bottles of pricey mountain liquor, each fetching upwards of two thousand silver pieces, which means my coin commiss

she said, still chopping away. I gulped at that. I couldn’t really wrap my head around the size of this place. “Why is it called Black Cove,” I asked, since she seemed so agreeable to answering questions. “Oh you’ll see one day. We have a large coastline on the southwest end, it’s stunning. White sandy beaches and clear water. I haven’t been in awhile but I’d love to take the kids in the summer. The tale is that there was a big human pirate ship called “The Black” that sank half a mile off shore,” she said, as she moved around.