Drink Quotes

My family is human. We were gifted a long life by the Thorne clan, something close to immortality. For generations, we’ve been their most loyal guardians. And I fell in love with Cedric, the vampire lord I was sworn to protect. For a hundred years, I was his secret. His sin. His only bedmate. I was his shield against dark magic. The sworn protector of his vast clan. I thought I’d earn the mark of an eternal bond. I was even ready for him to turn me. After all, on every blood moon, he would claim my body. Then, at the peak of an agonizing pleasure, he’d sink his fangs into my neck and drink my blood. He’d press his cold lips to my skin and whisper that I was his one and only. That no other blood, no other body, could make him lose control like this. But this time, the moment he was finished with me, he announced his eternal bond with Elsie, the pureblood princess of the Valerius clan. He smirked at the shock on my face. "You're just a human, gifted a long life by my ancestors. My bed warmer. You didn't actually think you could be my mate, did you?" In that moment, I understood. I was just a renewable blood bag. A tool with a purpose. For an alliance, for her, he sacrificed me. He cast me into the abyss and let the darkness swallow me whole. He thought the Guardian's Pact would chain me to him for eternity. But he forgot one thing. Every pact has a loophole. So I destroyed everything he ever gave me. Then, with my family's help, I vanished. But when the Lord of Eternal Night couldn't find his favorite toy… he went mad.

Miley's life fell apart on the night of her 19th Birthday. The celebration was tainted by the business of betrayal. At the party, Miley's drink was spiked, and when she felt ill, she staggered out of the room, only to stumble upon a conspiracy between her boyfriend and her sister. She had always known that her sister didn't love her. but what she hadn't expected was that her boyfriend, whom she had always trusted, was also in cahoots with her. Realization stung sharper than the cold air outside as she discovered their cruel intentions to humiliate her. Overwhelmed and betrayed, she found refuge in an unfamiliar room. But fate, it seemed, had a cocktail of sorrows lined up for her. In the room she sought refuge in was Logan Pierce. This man, a dominant and arrogant person, and her boyfriend's uncle were known to be a living nightmare for those who would cross his path. Under the influence of drugs, they slipped into a night, and he took her for the first time in ways she wished she could forget. Waking up to a world where accusations were hurled at her from all corners, her family turned their backs on her. Placating Logan seemed to have ranked higher than standing up for Miley, their own blood. Disowned and discarded, Miley found herself abandoned on the relentless, heartless streets. Years later, she had blossomed into the U.S. manager of Hales company. During a business meeting, she stumbled upon Logan once again. But the passing years had erased Miley's face from Logan's memory, arousing within him a curiosity and fascination for this elusive lady director. unable to recall the tragic past, Logan felt unwarranted anger towards Miley as he continuously evaded her- thus beginning their forbidden dance of desire yet again.

Alexis Diaz is a sales representative who attends a conference at a hotel in a remote area. While attending a reception, she meets a mysterious and charming billionaire named Max, who is a werewolf. They are both attracted to each other and share a passionate one-night stand. The next morning, Alexis leaves without saying goodbye, feeling overwhelmed by her emotions. Max realizes Alexis could be his mate, as he was drunk and doesn’tremember whether or not he marked her. The details of the night are fuzzy except he realizes his drink might have been laced by an aphrodisiac for mates. He only remembers her honey/ginger hair Alexis goes through some roughening emotions/changes(heat intolerance/heightened sex drive including sex dreams about the mysterious stranger) but eventually gets used to it, she also gets a new scar in the place she thought she had a hickey that refuses to go. A month or two later, Alexis is sent to pitch her company's product to Max's business. When Max sees her again, he realizes that he can't forget about her and feels drawn to her, she feels the mark on her neck burning as she feels and undeniable sexual tension between them. During the meeting, Max and Alexis try to maintain a professional demeanor as they are with others but the chemistry between them explodes the moment they are alone. Alexis runs away again. Max searches for her and finds her this time around at her workplace where he realizes he can hear two heartbeats. What happens when Alexis decide to runaway? How would Alexis handle the truth of her existence? How would Max save his pack without losing the most important part of his life, Alexis and their baby? Find out in this intriguing story, Alpha's girl.

There's an unspoken rule in my household—everyone has to engage in a drinking competition during the holidays. Whoever gets wasted first will have to pay off one year's worth of house and car mortgages for the other two siblings. In the first year, I collapsed after my first glass of alcohol. I had to pay the house mortgage for my oldest sister, Dahlia Zeller. In the second year, as soon as I picked up my glass, I fainted right away. Since then, I had to pay off Jasmine Zeller, my second sister's car loan. For the next 20 years, I've always been the loser. In the end, my wife, Jean McCarthy, is forced to jump off a building because of the huge debt I've racked up. The debtors keep dumping paint onto my residence, forcing me to deter away from it. Ransacked by guilt, I end up damaging my stomach from overdrinking when I attempt to train my alcohol tolerance. As a result, half of my liver has gotten removed. When I'm on the verge of death, I hear my parents snickering outside my ward. "Don't you think we've laced too many sleeping pills in his drink? He almost didn't wake up back then!" "It's fine. He's an idiot who merely thinks he has a low alcohol tolerance. Our family still relies on him for financial survival, you see. We can keep drugging him so that he'll keep getting wasted." When I open my eyes again, I've already gotten reborn in the timeframe when I'm sitting at the dining table in the 20th year.

When I was seven years old, a handsome man Mom brought home gave me a box of mangoes. That day, Dad watched me happily eating the mangoes as he signed his name on the divorce agreement. Then, he jumped to his death. From that day on, mangoes became a lifelong nightmare for me. So, on our wedding day, I told my wife, Irene Johnson, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." She held me without saying a word. From that moment on, mangoes became forbidden for her as well. … On the fifth Christmas Eve after we got married, Irene's childhood sweetheart, Steven Carter, placed a mango on her desk. That same day, she announced that she was cutting ties with him and fired him from the company. That day, I felt that she was the woman destined for me. ... Six months later, I return from overseas after closing a billion-dollar deal. At the celebration dinner, Irene hands me a drink. After I drink half of it, Steven, the man who was kicked out of the company, stands behind me and grins. "Is the mango juice good?" he asks. I look at Irene in disbelief, but she is holding back a laugh. "Don't be mad. Steve insisted I play a joke on you. I didn't give you a mango, just a bottle of its juice. "But I think Steve is right. There's something wrong with you for not eating mangoes. Look at how much you enjoyed it just now!" she says. I keep a cold expression, raise my hand, and splash the remaining mango juice onto her face. Then, I turn and walk away. Some things are never a joke. Mangoes aren't, and neither is my decision to divorce.

I thought my life was sorted. I have a sweet fiancé Marcus, a cozy apartment and my wedding Pinterest board on lock. As The classic good girl, I saved myself for marriage, never gave anyone trouble and always made safe choices. That was until I met Marcus’ dad Victor. He is tall, suave and deliciously charming. Everything about him turns me on without trying. Just one handshake and my body lit up like fireworks. I panicked and told myself it was hormones. I avoided him like a plague and even gave Marcus my virginity few months to our wedding but it didn’t work. One girls’ night and one weird-tasting drink, I find myself in his bed begging like I’d lost my mind while he ruins me for his son. Now I dream him every night while Marcus snores beside me like nothing’s changed. He has no idea I’m picturing his father when he touches me and that it’s his dad’s name I’m biting back when I come. I tell myself in the mirror every morning:
“Stop! You’re not this person.” But the second we’re in the same room? My willpower cracks. This isn’t cute at all. It’s messy, embarrassing and terrifying.
 The safest choice feels lonelier every day and the dangerous one feels like I’m finally breathing. What am I to do when the person I’m supposed to marry isn’t the one setting my body on fire and the one who is happens to be the last man I’m allowed to want? How long can I keep this affair hidden from Marcus when the wedding is so close and Victor is determined to have not just my body?

Warning: This is the most painful Love Triangle you'll ever read! Ever since Cami left the family where his older brothers sold her, she's been wandering around the City for days. No food, no water, no shelter, it's good that it's raining that time, so she can drink somehow. No one intends to help her. She has been through all the hardship living alone, she's been bullied and mistreated by the people she knows. Until Dylan and Stan came to save her, offer her a shelter and all, so the two of them became her hero, Dylan offer her a shelter and care. At first, she didn't believe that Dylan would be good to her because of what she had gone through with other people, especially her own family. She became closer to Dylan, probably because they lived in the same roof. Dylan is a very kind person, gentle, caring, passionate and charming but grumpy sometimes. She already liked the young man. But she knew he was unlikely to like her, he was just nice to her because he was a good person. She always watched the young man. Dylan is quite close to Stan's sister Zaneah because Dylan is Zaneah's protector, She didn't know that Gabe, the prince charming of Crown University, was also watching her while she was watching Dylan. There isn't a day that Gabe doesn't tickle and irritate her. One day Dylan and her were together when he left her for Zaneah, sad and hurt her badly, Gabe suddenly came to offer her his comfort. From that day on, whenever she was sad, he just called Gabe, and he came immediately to comfort her. Will she choose the person she loves or choose the person who always there for her and willing to love her?

On the day my dad, the Don of the Capone family, comes to the orphanage to take me home, I show up in a tactical helmet and a bulletproof vest. "I'm not going home with you. You're definitely doing this to trick me into getting married to a perverted old geezer in a marriage alliance. I bet my adopted sister has made preparations to start fake-crying anytime by loading up on her eyedrops." My dad is amused, to say the least. "Why would any of that happen? Silvia is nothing but welcoming you to our home! Also, our family isn't a lowly organization that deals with human trafficking." But I refuse to believe my dad at all. On the way home, I keep typing something on my phone. My mom, the Donna, leans over curiously. "Are you writing a diary entry?" "Nope. I'm writing tips on 'How to Survive the Mafia.'" 1) My food will definitely be poisoned. 2) If I get close to a staircase, I'll definitely get pushed down the stairs. 3) I'll get framed for something that I've never done before. My parents swear to me that none of the things I've written will ever happen. They tell me that my adopted sister, Silvia Capone, has a great personality, and things are amicable in the family. However, everything changes when Silvia brings me a glass of juice before lunchtime and insists on watching me drink it. Instead, I dump the juice into a nearby vase of flowers. Just as my parents are about to scold me for wasting the juice, smoke begins drifting from the flowers inside the vase. Then, they start wilting rapidly. I calmly leave a bright red checkmark behind the "poison" tip. As my parents stare at the dead flowers, they can feel color draining from their faces. "You should send the juice to a chem lab for analysis."

“You think I want this? Do you think I want to be with a woman whose pack killed my mother and my mate? To be with a weak omega. If I could have my way I would kill you and drink on your grave for what your pack did to my mate, my father, my mother. I would love to watch you burn” he shouts at my face, his eyes red with anger. I walk towards him closing the gap between us “Then kill me, let me die!” I plead. He scoffs and rakes his white short hair with his hands. He turns to me and grabs my chin. “Do I have to imprint it on your head? You do not get to die after what you and your pack did to me. You don't get to end it and leave me in this mystery. You are my mate Olivia, my second chance mate, a replacement for the love of my life. Therefore you would live and watch your mate mourn his dead mate all the days of your miserable life” Olivia had always been insignificant to her family, she was a weak Omega. To gain a little purpose she joins the pack soldiers and gradually builds a name for herself as one of the best assassins in her pack. Fate plays his way when her Alpha sends her to kill the whole Lark family for trying to kidnap his daughter. She sets out with five others and successfully kills Grim's mother before they are caught. To make matters worse the moon goddess decides to make her Grim second chance mate. Now she must watch as her mate loses himself in the memories of his dead mate or fights hard till she becomes the center of his world.

I no longer deliver meals to my husband, Zachary Smith—the man who became the factory manager after receiving a scholarship that brought him to the city—since my rebirth. I even make sure to detour using the gate at the factory's north side whenever he uses the southern gate after he finishes his meetings. In my past life, I was fully aware he took me as his wife—a humble country woman—just for the chance to move to the city. Yet, I insisted on becoming his wife, anyway. After all, I was convinced that a person's true affections could be earned and nurtured. Yet, Zachary maintained a constant, formal distance throughout our marriage. He would simply offer me a book the moment I attempted to bridge the gap, saying, "You should study more so that you don't continually attract people's contempt." I got emboldened by the drink as I threw my arms around him, yet he merely accepted the embrace rigidly, whispering, "It's just what married couples do." It wasn't until decades later, as I lay on my deathbed, that I discovered the heartbreaking words in his autobiography. In it, he stated that our entire marriage was like being trapped in a mire and that he never wanted to be with me again if he were to ever be reborn. I felt a searing pain tearing through my heart as I closed my eyes in devastating anguish. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back at the point in time when the gossip about Zachary and Juliana Ziegler, the factory's technician who studied abroad, first began to spread. In this life, I choose not to fight or cause drama. Instead, I am the one who brings up the divorce.