Monster High Porter Geiss Novels & Stories

With a prostitute, everything is secretive and you’re guaranteed to get lucky in the end. I decide against the prostitute and instead go to the Hun and get some good drinks. It’s the perfect name. After leaving the Hun, patrons feel more like barbarians. In front of the bar, two bikers are already going at it. One I recognize for being a hothead. He’s a dirty blond who always seems to be just passing through.

He was completely immersed in the relief of solving his problem tomorrow. He was in a great mood. He cooked a table full of my favorite dishes and even opened a bottle of vintage wine. That night, Kael held me tightly as he slept. In his sleep, he called my name, sounding so deeply in love, as if I were his only one. Early the next morning, just as the sky was turning gray, Kael and I arrived at the Moon Goddess Altar. Usually solemn and majestic, the place now seemed exceptionally cold and gloomy.

“For you? The Tunnel Bar in the City.” “Cute. Send a tray over. There are five of us.” I nodded, but Uncle Harris shot me a dirty look. He didn’t want me moving from behind the bar. I loaded my tray with five shots of Jim Bean and five pints from the tap. Their eyes darkened as I approached, staring at my chest or the exposed flesh on my stomach. “The bourbon is decent if you have a discerning palate. Sierra Nevada Pale Ale has a strong malt taste balanced with lots of citrus.”