Bluebird Tavern Novels & Stories

Rusty asked. "I think they know more than they said. It's a feeling," Rhys replied, patting his fit gut. "Let's get something to eat." He inclined his head, indicating the Blue Moon Diner just down the street. The pair entered the diner and took stools at the counter. A bored-looking waitress in a short blue dress and white apron came to take their order. "What can I get you?" "What's your special today?" Rusty wondered.

“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

“What would you order?” Suddenly, Blue averted her gaze. Pressed on regardless. “I’d order two coffees and a cheese and tomato sandwich—a mocha have-here and a takeaway long black,” Blue took pause. As she did, she scanned the crowd of those who had since begun to queue. Wondered how many suffered the same silent fate as she. Somehow, felt no sympathy for those who did. There were worse fates, she was rather aware. Yet her self-sympathy somehow lingered. “The mocha and sandwich would keep me full until lunch. I’d save the black for mid-afternoon when I get hungry again,”

Colleen said, handing her a champagne glass. Once again, Marybeth found herself exchanging hugs with people she wasn't likely to meet again. But both Natalie and Levi seemed like nice people, and they were chatty by nature, it seemed. Before long, they were all yapping away about the gorgeous Blue Mountains. They owned a second home there and split their time between Rock Castle and the mountain town. While Levi chatted to Andrei and Austin, Natalie showed Marybeth photos of their nine-month-old twins, a boy and a girl.

Two weeks later, Raven sat in a corner booth at the Black Fang, a dive bar in the heart of Diamondback territory. The establishment reeked of stale beer, cigarette smoke, and the kind of desperation that clung to places where people came to forget their problems rather than solve them. Neon beer signs cast sickly light across scarred wooden tables and a clientele that looked like they'd crawl over broken glass for their next fix.

"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.

I growled softly, my voice a rough rumble that easily cut through the high-pitched shriek of the grinding machinery across the street. He swallowed hard, slowly pulling his calloused hand away from his wrench as he stepped aside, leaving the heavy timber door completely unguarded. Inside, the tavern was a chaotic maze of stained timber benches, thick tobacco smoke, and the deep-throated laughter of Southern Drift mercenaries celebrating their upcoming deployment. High-output electronic slot terminals lined the far wall, their cheap blue display screens throwing a flickering light across the pale faces of the local information brokers. Aria cut a direct path toward the back booth where an old

"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.

Emma wanted to greet a warrior friend, so Ada made her way to the bar. Once a new flute of champagne was in her hands, a voice, a husky familiar voice whispered in her ear, “You know, all alcohol is from Blue Moon clan, right?” She had ignored the emails about this event so that fact had escaped her. Blue Moon clan was known for their restaurants and alcohol production. They had always known how to produce same spirits with triple alcohol percentage compared to regular human drinks. Their brochures even spoke of a legend of Moon Goddess herself teaching the secrets to one of their ancestors. An image of the beautiful goddess stomping a bucket of grapes with her bare feet was on all of their

“My friends and I are going to this pub on the outskirts of the pack, and I was wondering…” “You can’t take her that far,” Daemon cut in. “We still don’t know what caused that fire. We don’t know if we’re under attack.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re being dramatic, Daemon.” “I’m trying to protect my cousin.” “It’s fine,” Balor laughed awkwardly, looking at Daemon. “We can go to that one in the pack. It’s not a bother.” Then his eyes fell on me. “What do you say, Princess? Want to go?” Daemon didn’t wait for my response before sneaking away.