Blind Shark Tavern Novels & Stories

Turning to Jayla, “I’ll be home no later than 12.” “Ok, Ms. Benson.” Lori and I climb into my black Nissan Sentra and drove toward the bar we had chosen to go to tonight. “So, what's the MO on this bar?” I ask as I navigate my way through the city toward our destination. “Well,” she drawls, “It’s called Slythering. The photos online show some of the hunkiest wolves I have ever laid my eyes on, and honestly the drinks they post online look beyond delish,” she looks over at me grinning, “and the food, is apparently to die for, especially their loaded French fries.”

- If I have no heirs, yours will be there. - Oh no, don’t even think about it; my children will never lead a mafia; it’s too risky, too dangerous; they won’t serve as bait for the vultures. - So, I’m bait for the vultures? And why don’t I see them? - Because they fear you too much. We arrive at the tavern (the name given to one of my buildings that includes a hotel, two bars (one with strippers and the other for karaoke fans), and a brothel where auctions take place.

And that something is cuddling with Talia because he was confident that Talia will be done with her girl time. The Shifters nightclub is in the territory of the Dark Howlers pack and the owner (aka Katya) is a pack member, so naturally, Alpha Drake has his private booth that no one else would dare to use without Drake's approval. The booth is elevated with a metallic rail separating it from the rest of the nightclub. There are two low tables with one curved sofa where at least ten people can sit without touching each other. That booth is the only area where colorful lights will never hit, giving it privacy in the darkness, while people who are in that booth can clearly see the rest of the ni

Damien ordered from memory, which confirmed nothing except that he had been here before and remembered everything, which was not new information. I ordered the second cheapest thing on the menu and did not make it obvious that I was doing that. Daniel noticed anyway. Of course he did. “Get the fish,” he said. “It’s the whole point of coming here.” “The pasta is fine,” I said. “Noah.” “The pasta—” “Get the fish,” Damien said. Flat. Final. Like a man who had not just paid sixty percent of an impossible medical bill and was definitely not doing it again in miniature with a lunch menu.

I sat perfectly still in the darkest corner of the Broken Fang Tavern, my shoulders hunched forward as I stared down at the empty table. The air inside the roadside bar was incredibly loud, hot, and thick with the disgusting smells of cheap ale, old grease, and wet wolf fur. It was a miserable place where only the low level enforcers, trashy Omegas, and off duty guards came to drink and blow away their mistakes and pick fights with anyone smaller than them. A single bottle of ninety proof moonshine sat directly in front of me on the wood, completely empty. I remained dead silent, keeping my large body hidden in the deep shadows of the booth, but my golden eyes were burning like twin torches

“No beer or soda?” The blond one, Finn, had been watching his fingers as he tapped out a beat. At the mention of beer, he turned those lovely blues her way. “Beer does sound good. Make it three." Someone kicked him under the table. The silverware and old vase of plastic flowers shook. “No beer.” Mr. Dark and Dangerous frowned. “The waters and steaks will be fine.” “Okay.” She walked off, but not before hearing Mr. Dark and Dangerous groan in annoyance and tell his friends, “She smells so good. We don’t come here anymore, or I’m going to end up fucking her and then eating her afterward.”

Taken aback by the soothing sounds of the forest. They listened to it for a while before Oli asked, "What is this place?" "I call it the Ashen Grove. There's a large willow tree here that looks like it's got ash from a fire painted onto its bark. I figured you'd like it here. A place where you can go without being bothered." Kate answered and brushed against her brother. "Thankyou." Oli said. "Your welcome, I'll leave you here to get to know the Grove a little better. Follow my scent back home, when your done." Kate said and Oli nodded.

"We do this through my PR team. We issue a formal rebuttal." "Your PR team is too polite, little brother," Isabella said, setting her glass down with a definitive clink. "Elara, put on your coat. We’re going to a dive bar in the Meatpacking District." The Blind Tiger – 11:00 PM The bar was a relic of a grittier New York—dark, smelling of stale hops and secrets. In a back booth sat Elias Vance, celebrating his "scoop" with a bottle of overpriced champagne.

Shark bait was engraved on a copper metal and here two was another one of those R’s. “So what are we going to find here?” Claire said, frowning slightly. “Information and maybe what we are looking for.” Jack said, swinging the door open and holding it for Claire. Claire stepped in and the smell hit her first. It was a sweet rotten smell. The tavern was lit dim and the bright light was coming from the bar. Men were passed out in the corners, girls sat on tables or the bar giggling to drunk men. Claire walked in a little further, Jack and Jonah walked in behind her. Jack stepped in front of Claire scanning the room. He started to make his way to the bar Claire followed with Jonah. A loud squea

The bar goes by the name The Blind Tiger, tucked away down an unremarkable alley in Greenwich Village. Pushing open the door, you’re greeted by warm amber lamplight and the low hum of jazz. Behind the bar stands a bearded bartender, slowly shaking a cocktail shaker in his hands. Lucas leads me to a tiny round table tucked in the corner. It is so small our knees nearly brush against one another. “It’s peaceful here,” he says, pulling out a chair for me. “I’ve dropped by a few times before; their whiskey is excellent.”