Blackbeard Tavern Novels & Stories

Kayson waved his hand and said, “Just step aside and watch. No one will fire you while I’m here.” After that, Kayson pulled his phone out and made a call to Gabriel. He asked him to bring some fearsome man and ropes here. Soon, a group of hunky men with all kinds of different animals tattooed on their arms, necks, and chests walked in. “Mr. Yarde!” The man standing at the front of the group was one of the men Gabriel had brought to the Parfume Bar. Kayson nodded. “What’s your name?” “You can call me Black Bear.”

Kayson waved his hand and said, “Just step aside and watch. No one will fire you while I’m here.” After that, Kayson pulled his phone out and made a call to Gabriel. He asked him to bring some fearsome man and ropes here. Soon, a group of hunky men with all kinds of different animals tattooed on their arms, necks, and chests walked in. “Mr. Yarde!” The man standing at the front of the group was one of the men Gabriel had brought to the Parfume Bar. Kayson nodded. “What’s your name?” “You can call me Black Bear.”

Beverly took it from the back. "You named me Tuna on your phone?" She asked disbelief. "It's cute right?" I asked and my mom smacked my head. "I can't believe you named me Tuna with a fish emo beside it." "You love it." I said and she scoffed. "Beverly, can you company me to sleep in the guest room tonight?" "No!" Clyde said as soon as grandma finished her sentence. "Why is that?" Grandma asked. "Beverl promi-" I shut his mouth by putting my hand on his mouth.

Life was carrying on. “Now where?” said Keezy. He’d taken the shape of a nondescript man in his thirties. I turned to Jenny. “Anything?” She shook her head, her focus more on the transformation she’d just witnessed. I looked around. “There.” I pointed at a tavern with a sign hanging from it. The Pickled Gherkin. It was where we’d spent a lot of time on our last trip here, and it could be just the place to jog a few memories for Jenny. Plus, we could get a drink and packet of complimentary dry roasted. It would be nice to be around people who gave you nuts rather than took them away.

he asked over the loud music playing in the bar. "He has a very weird hobby and enjoys such places like this. I've heard that he owns this establishment too, and this place is a costume-themed bar. It appears as a bar on the outside, but there is a large black market running on the inside," Dylan explained as they walked up to the bartender. "Good evening, gents. What would you like to have?" the handsome, blonde bartender greeted with a smile. "We'd have a Blue Ocean with purple bees, room 001 please," Dylan ordered.

Raven Blackwood’s POV: The restaurant owner didn’t come to the dock. My men tried to find him at his address or possible places, but it was like he vanished, or someone made him vanish. So here I was at the underground casino at night, which was hidden beneath an old warehouse near the harbor. From the outside, the building looked abandoned with broken windows and a rusted metal door. Anyone passing by would think it had been empty for years now. But the moment you step inside, everything changes.

Savage rotated on his heel and strode down the dirt road inspecting his nails and whistling cheerfully as his men vanished into the trees with all the Nightway goods and a portion of Danbury’s personal property. *** Winters Haven, Blue Lark Guild in Dread HIdeout “It’s been a busy night.” Adrea commented. Wiping the counter with a rag. “You’ve been back here all night. Your feet and back have to be aching.” She nodded toward Dimurah. “It means good coin to exchange for ale, wine and meat to keep us going.” Dimurah responded. Sliding a gruff looking man, a brimming tankard. “Joe’s well into his cups again.” Adrea tossed her dark head toward him leaning against the wall near the counter.

They made more small talk as they made their way to the stalwart bar that had been around far longer than they had, and stepped inside of what felt like a time capsule. The inside was dark as one would expect, small lights dotted here and there over some of the tables and the bar itself. Faux candelabra decorated the walls and provided even more soft ambiance. The smell of the ocean air swept into the open windows, keeping the old, scrubbed pine walls coated in the finest layer of salty brine. The place had always been a tavern and dated back to the early 1800s, with the ghost stories and local lore to show for it, along with the photos - some of them ancient-looking - placed haphazardly bet

For all he knew, or cared, Paul could quit because of his lack of interest in Paul working out in his new position. “Sure Bill. Whatever you say.” Thank heavens he didn’t need to come in first thing in the morning. Paul probably would like to see some of his pack and get to work with them. “I better go. So, I can catch him before he leaves for the day. Anything else?” “Yeah, so what is with the magically returning tavern owner?” Bill couldn’t even get the type of business correct. A tavern was more like a restaurant that served alcohol. A bar was a drinking establishment that might sell snack type foods.

The rag that was already on the counter froze momentarily, Outsider, huh? Already excluding me from the start. Still, beggars can't be choosers, I tugged at the corners of my lips till they curved into a realistic smile. “Of course, Ma'am,” “It's Madam Beatrice, this is what you'll be doing…” She outlined my responsibilities, then snapped, “Why are you just gawking at me? Get to work!” Clawfire tavern- the name of the bar-was well patronized. No surprise there, it was co-owned by the Alpha and had ‘entertainment’ for its guests