Nan's Bloody Mary Mix Novels & Stories

“Drink up, you sissy!” Giana laughs, sipping at the straw of her way-too-strong bloody mary. I just cough, looking askance at mine. “G, this is like 90% vodka, 5% tomato juice, and the rest is horseradish. Honestly, it’s basically clear.” “I am freshly a widow, Iris,” Giana says, even as she laughs. “You are not allowed to critique my bartending skills – it is rude, this is part of my grieving process.”

Maddie in white, Jasmine in pink, Bella in dark blue and pants instead of shorts and Callie in red. I toss a towel onto my shoulder and saunter up to them with an imaginary pen and paper in hand. "Ladies, what are we drinking?" "A tropical Mai Tai, please." Jasmine says. "And a tequila sunrise for Bella." "A strawberry Daiquiri." Maddie orders. "Make that two." Lexie pipes up with a smile. Nodding I pretend to jot their orders down on my palm before looking at Callie. "Strawberry Hennessy, thanks."

He said nothing, his irritation was already evident to me as he shifted his gaze around the room. “Aryan! Didn’t expect to see you there!” Just then, a man approached us, and Aryan subtly positioned himself to block the stranger's view of me. “I had some business to attend.” Their conversation flowed, but I paid little attention. The real excitement was in the drinks that had just arrived. The Bloody Mary drink was a sight to behold – vibrant red with a rim of salt and a stalk of celery sticking out.

she kept going. “You're right, this place was owned by my master, my king, who gave up every to protect what mattered to him and... this—” I held up my cup, “—this is called Bloody Mary, everyone in Hell loves it,” I chuckled. “Oh,” she giggled, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I want Hurricane." Hurricane was... a little gross. But it was really fun, cheap drinks, all young people like us. They were named after their own signature cocktail 'the Hurricane' which was some form of a Long Island mixed with Blue Curacao. It had so much alcohol in it that the bartenders would make a tick on your hand each time you ordered one. Once you had an X, they wouldn't give you a third. "I'm down!" Abby insists. "I could use one of those blackout cocktails they make."

"Alright, music major. Help me out. Which punch is actually drinkable and won't kill my tastebuds?" ​Dom looked down at the bowls, then back at me, a highly critical look on his face. "The red one is basically sugar-flavored battery acid. The yellow one actually has real fruit in it, but Sam sneaked some ridiculously strong dark rum into it about ten minutes ago. Drink at your own risk."

I could imagine how my eyes sparkled when I tasted the color pink liquor. "Wow, it tastes so good!" I exclaimed in amazement. Then I added as I put down the glass. "It tastes a little sour and a little sweet." Noah beamed. "I'm glad that you like it. Its sweet and tart notes are from cranberry juice and fresh lime juice. They called this version of martini Cosmopolitan. I specifically ordered this for you since it's popular with women. That's why it surprised me that you don't know it." He explained.

I wandered over to where a lady was behind an almost rectangular table with a hole in the inside. "Hey there, sweetie, what can I get for you?" Me? "What would you recommend? I've had a nightmare week and just want to forget all my problems." "I got ya. I'll make you the house special. It's called the Hazy Day. It's got rum, vodka and strawberry malt liquor."

The dance floor was in the middle as the sexual music played so loud you could barely hear yourself think. Vincent and Gabrial led us to the bar and ordered beers for themselves. Then looked at us for what we wanted. “Jack, neat.” I said. Every since pair of eyes, except Jason, looked at me like I just grew three heads. “What?” “Nothing, here you go ma’am.” the bartender said. “Cranberry and vodka,” Claudia said “Blue moon” Ben said. “Same” Samuel said. “Jack too.” Jason said and smiled at me. I shook my head and laughed. He always tries to keep up with me but never can.

I said, leaning in, my finger brushing the tip of his nose, a bold move that felt reckless, desperate. “What about a beautiful woman like me, who's ready to forget? I know drinks—Margarita, Cosmopolitan, Old Fashioned, Mojito, maybe a Negroni—but I want your recommendation.” My voice was teasing, but my chest was tight, my heart racing with a mix of pain and want. “For heartbreak with a side of vengeance, I’d recommend a strong mix. We have the...Patrón Reposado, Grey Goose, a splash of Aperol, bitters, and a hint of sweet vermouth."