Mi Hermana Borracha Novels & Stories

"I need a rare boneless ribeye and whatever my lady wants." We're back in our suite when I ask, "You don't drink?" "I can't. My nonhuman side can't tolerate drugs or alcohol." "Oh wow. I got sick once at lunch because of a glass of wine. Smoking weed, I spazzed out with my cousin and her friends. I guess I am cured because this wine isn't affecting me." "Did you see anything while you were high?" "Oh, my God! My cousin and her friends turned into demons." "Demons?"

I walked toward the mini bar at the far end of the room, lit up a cigarette, and drank bourbon wine directly from its bottle. I walked toward the window, took a long drag of the cigarette, and when I looked up, the full moon had risen. I finished the stick of cigarette and the entire bottle of wine. I just wanted to get drunk—just wanted to forget about the fact that my brother was chained in there, but no matter what, I couldn’t. I moved toward the bar to grab another set of wine and cigarette when a young guard ran into the room and told me that Lady Mara insisted on seeing the Alpha.

She had it custom made. “Brother, we are sorry for crashing your party, but you know me, I love to party, man, and I can’t miss this one.” My asshole friend said waving his still smoking gun making me laugh and accept his side hug, not caring that I was naked and we both were drenched in blood. I grinned at Caci and she tsked before throwing her now red hair back and she gave me a toothy grin. “I’m glad that I didn’t miss the sight of you finally losing your shit, my friend. It all happened because of our sweet little Misha. A woman finally drove Renzo mad.”

I end the kiss with a sensual lick across his lips and a sultry look, before letting him go and walking away from both of them. I walk back to Damon and my new found brothers. I love how easily he and his friends have accepted me into their group. The guys are as protective over me as they would for a little sister, despite the fact that I can probably hand them their *sses. As I am starting to sober up slightly, I grab Mike and Trevor and drag them towards the bar. I don’t want to be accused of being a c*ckblocker once again. Although I know Damon is just saying that to get me to have fun. I know he is secretly waiting on Nadia to arrive, ever since I told him she is coming. “What are we ha

“Rule number one: don't fall to the Milleros man. They're all jerks." "Hey." The voice of Millero's man came out. ""You're indirectly Millero too." "I'm a woman, and I'm a Barend." I just chuckled as my stomach churned in the discomfort that overcame me. Yeah, Britta's right. But the thing is I've did it. And my sanity has gone somewhere. >>>

The clinking of glasses and the low hum of conversations provided a comforting backdrop to my thoughts as I nursed my drink. I had long since abandoned any semblance of a normal life, driven to the fringes of society by a past that refused to release its grip. Serena, the name that haunted my dreams and fueled my darkest desires, was a chapter of my life that I could never forget. As I sat there, lost in the haze of cigarette smoke and my bitter memories, a woman entered the bar. She introduced herself as Marah, her presence carrying an air of purpose that immediately piqued my interest.

_____ Mira’s POV Sierra. That evil hideous witch. That woman with a bright smile and a evil heart. She thinks she can get away after killing my sister—after causing my mother to die of heart attack from the death of my sister. She thinks she will know peace… Hell no. Peace is a luxury that she can’t afford even though it’s one cent.

I asked, trying to sound casual, “do you remember that summer when we were kids? When we went swimming at the private beach and I almost drowned?” She didn’t even blink. “Of course. Why?” “I remember someone pulling me out. And… there was blood. A deep cut on the leg. I thought it was you.” She smiled, stretched her leg beneath the table, her skin smooth and untouched. “All healed now,” she said lightly. “What? Feeling nostalgic?” But there were no scars. No sign of ever being wounded. A memory rushed back. Waking up on the beach, Elara hovering over me, soaked in blood. I’d assumed it was hers.

"Don't you think I'd know whether Ms. Sanders has siblings? Where the hell would a nephew come from? You'll say anything to climb the social ladder, won't you?" He gestured to his men. "Bring me some liquor." One of his guys immediately handed him a bottle of vodka. Rex twisted off the cap, grabbed my jaw, and started pouring it down my throat. The burning alcohol seared my throat as I choked, my face turning bright red while the liquid spilled down my chin onto my neck and clothes. Rex's expression turned vicious. "Drink it! Finish the whole damn bottle! If you dare spit any of it out when Ms. Sanders gets here, I'll throw you into the underground arena and let all the guys there have a tas

“Oh, I'm Mizza's daughter, but she's been ruling it out since I started working in my profession. You...?” “Imagine, your profession is the least of my worries. Don't get me wrong.” She offered me a shot of tequila and I drank it. I felt my throat burn and my soul leave my body for a few seconds. “Damn, you want to see me drunk?” Mikhail's eyes shone in a unique way, he seemed overjoyed at what was happening.