Bourbon Detective Conan Novels & Stories

Gun smirked as Conan glared at him. "She didn't refuse to meet, she had work to do" Conan pulled his cupboard open, hands cupping his glass of whiskey. He retrieved his pills and popped two in his mouth downing it with whiskey. It was not an advisable habit but it was the only way he could stand the taste of the godforsaking pills. "Are they back?" Arm asked, eyeing the pill bottle like a detonating bomb and in a way it was. "Maybe you should see Dr Rivers again"

Conan expression was blank as he looked down at the photos “ don’t look at me like that , I do like to play rough but I don’t play that rough “ crossing his arms , he looked away from the photos “ I founded these at Bella’s porch last night , since you were a little too busy to take care of the stalker matter , I decided to drop by as Sel-someone seemed to be edge after Bella ‘s last accident and this is what I found “ I couldn’t believe what I was hearing , I couldn’t even process what Conan just told me - I was with Bella last night yet someone , some sick bastard actually walked past her house , stood in front of her mail box and dumped this stack of photos , hoping that she might receiv

In a scarlet dress with her breasts thrown out and very modest in comparison with my jewelry, she looked terribly cheap and dull, and she spread the smell of envy and jealousy from herself, shooting malicious glances at me. - Red Stag - I ordered in the mini bar. I liked this bourbon more than the Double Oak that Boris drank. I went out to the patio and took a sip from my glass. The combination of tones of vanilla, oak, caramel and ripe cherries pleasantly refreshed the throat. Motorcyclists with machine guns roamed the territory, cutting through the translucent fog. The helmets, which they did not take off, were painted, imitating sharks, then clowns, then some other strange characters. The

Conan walked back in, Canon cuddled in one arm and his bottle in the other. "Um, yeah, I'm gonna get some whiskey," I muttered, retreating to the cabinet before my pride forced me to throw the human out the window. I reminded myself of what Conan told me: He's rough, but he's loyal. You don't have to like him—just don't kill him. Right. Let's rise above. I brought out the best bottle. Something smooth. A rare treat. "Three shots, then?" The human tilted his head, smirking. "Trying to catch up already?"

What’s my birthday got to do with this runaway ass? She finally roamed her eyes back to the photograph that Conan had put on the table. It wasn’t even a clear photograph - it was taken from afar, cropped from a seemingly large group photo from God-knows-when. Her eyes narrowed at the rugged, naughty face she saw, noting the smirk he had on his lips as he bit the bar pendant of his silver necklace. She could imagine how he could have been acting when he posed for the camera, and she didn’t feel particularly interested in seeing him, much less meeting him in person. Seems like a stupid playboy.

I walked to the cabinet and quickly poured two glasses of whiskey before setting one of them on the coffee table in front of the detective. He looked at the glass, as if he suddenly began to suspect it might be poisoned. I shot him a look and took a drink from my glass. Then I sat in an armchair opposite the sofa. “Where's your partner, Detective?” Moore snatched his glass from the table and inhaled sharply. “In the hospital with a minor concussion,” he answered flatly. “What happened?” I didn't truly care, but he sure as fuck looked like he had to tell someone, even one he considered his enemy.

Bourbon will do. I ask him, "Can I get you another drink, Mr. Keller?" But when I whirl around, he's standing directly behind me. He's so close that I feel his breath fan my face. I can smell the whiskey and the cigarette he just smoked. He reaches behind me and lifts the lid of the crystal bottle. With his eyes on me, he pours himself the bourbon instead of scotch. He doesn't even look to see if he's made a mess. When he's done, he picks up his glass and treads towards the sofa. He sits down and looks back at me momentarily.

Don't worry, we won't hurt you. We came to tell you about us for a reason, you are not an ordinary person, you can say unique. - Duk chatters. As a sign of good intentions, the werewolf takes a bottle of whiskey and pours a portion of factory moonshine into a clean glass. Approaches Conrod and holds out a glass. The werewolf treats you to whiskey, that doesn't happen every day. Conrod takes the glass and sips it in large gulps. Julia goes to the bar and curls up comfortably there. Conrod recovers a little from the shock. He sits down on the couch, nervously twirling his glass of whiskey.

BANG BANG Gunshots could be heard and countless dead bodies could be seen all over the bloodied ground. Williams leaned against a car and took a puff of the cigarette in between his fingers. The smoke went up as his white hair glistened due to the moonlight reflecting on him thereby creating a very alluring picture. When almost all the cigarette had been used up he threw it on the floor and smashed it with his legs. Jason walked up to Williams and said “ Williams, we’ve caught the Don of the Black scorpion mafia group“