Mi Hermana Borracha Novels & Stories

Me- “Fuck it. We’re on our way” Becca turns into a wild banshee depending on what she’s drinking and it’s not pretty. By the sounds of it- it looks like a bourbon night. Double shit. Can I handle her when I myself am slightly drunk? If I want to help my soon to be brother in law I will have to.

She looked genuinely excited. Completely unaware that the two boys sitting in front of her hated each other’s existence. “Ryan, this is Miles.” Her hand landed on my shoulder. “My son.” I wanted the floor to open and swallow me My mother then turned toward me. “Miles, this is Ryan.” She smiled. “Your new stepbrother.” I felt like I was about to faint. My ears started ringing. The room suddenly felt too warm. My new step brother? Ryan? What sort of joke is this,

she shouted, raising her glass with a radiant smile on her lips. I laughed and clinked glasses with her before bringing my cocktail to my lips. The burn of the alcohol slid down my throat, pulling a shiver of pleasure from me. Isabella always knew how to make me forget my worries. My sister was a star in the darkness, a goddess of the night. With her sculpted body, her long legs showcased by a tight red dress, and her devastating smile, she drew all eyes to her. I had always been the more discreet, wiser, and composed one. She was the fire. I was the shadow of her light.

their father study room Mike saw Erica weeping in one corner by resting her back on pillar, seeing her broken self Mike immediately walked to her and comforted her in his embrace “I.. i am sorry Mike , i co.. Could not gained the strength to k.. kil him” Erica whimper on Mike shoulder as he rubbed her back, they both stayed there for couple of minutes when suddenly they heard a loud noise which came from Pratab Bora’s study room, hearing which Erica and Mike quickly pulled away and noticed that Meenakshi is not with them because of which they both immediate made their run towards Pratab Bora study room where their eyes went wide to see an unexpected scene playing in front of their eyes, Pra

Hard. Soft. Gentle. Familiar. I know that lips. I know that smell. I know that feel. The light flicked on, harsh and sudden and we sprang apart. It’s Niko. Nikolai…My sister’s husband. “Aevia?” Shit.

I was capable of answering for myself and my answers could even shut their shitty mouths. She didn't say anything further and I didn't want to try and fit with them anymore. I wasn't a good pretender and I was sure if I spend more time there, it wouldn't be pretty for any of us. I went toward the bar and took a juice. And stood there alone not sure what else to do. I wish I had some company here. My name sake company- Mia wasn't allowed to attend parties yet. She had to be eighteen first before she could attend mafia parties. The juice didn't seem to work fine so I took a vodka shot. Butter as shit but as it travelled through my throat the sensation made me want to try once again. Without co

At the end of the day, she is depending on alcohol to numb her mind and body. Today Nero and Chloe finally brought their baby home, who was in the hospital incubator because the baby is born prematurely. Mia was so excited to see the tiny little thing, that she wanted to kiss her soft cheeks. But when she raised her hand to touch the baby, she saw that her hands are bloody, exactly like when she killed those men in that basement. Mia recoiled with shock and ran away from there, leaving a worried Chloe and Nero behind. Mia lay down on the beach on her back. The waves are crashing near her feet. After she ran away from Nero's home, she drank alcohol to forget what happened. Everything is messi

“Like Charli? That’s a nickname.” “Yes,” I confirmed. “Now tell me more.” “Well, it’s kind of fuzzy, but I was in the bar. He came up and asked me a question about my sister. I kind of stuttered.” She leaned forward. “Well, because my sister is still in California.” Her giggle disappeared as she took another drink of orange juice. “This is the worse mimosa I’ve ever had.” “It’s because I told them, no champagne.” “What the hell? That means it’s just orange juice.”

“Why did she drink so much?” “Myka drank in my place. She wouldn’t be like this otherwise.” Sirius went over and dragged Myka to his car. “You love acting tough, you banshee! Your alcohol tolerance sucks, so why do you think that you’ll never get drunk?!” Myka’s eyes flew open. “Who are you calling a banshee?! You’re sh*t-talking me, you b*stard!” She staggered out of Sirius’s grasp and started punching him. “Are you just pretending to be drunk?!” Sirius blocked off Myka’s punches, grabbed her by the wrist, and pulled her to his car before shoving her inside. “Get in! You’re just a drunk banshee! I can totally take you on right now!”

“You’ve got to be kidding. This is Scottish distilled whiskey from the seventeenth century. 92% alcohol. One sip and you could light your breath on fire.” He rummaged through the crates, pulling out more bottles, his voice rising with each discovery. “This one’s Puerto Rican cane liquor—banned in half the U.S. This here? Jamaican rum that’ll knock your soul into next Tuesday. Mia, where did you find this stuff?” Mia didn’t answer him. Instead, her gaze swept the room, her eyes calculating, searching. She paused, her lips curling again, and then she nodded toward the circle forming in the lounge. “What game are you all playing?”