Poor Devil Saloon Novels & Stories

He was rumored to be quite a troublemaker at the old folks home with three girlfriends, nightly card games, and several nightcaps every night. Old whiskey barrels served as tables. A mechanical bull named Diablo menaced patrons from his spot of infamy across the bar. Few had survived a full ride on Diablos. Speaking of rides, Leila suddenly envisioned herself taking a very different ride. This time on a stallion she would love to mount. Or perhaps she would even allow him to slam her up against the bar and mount her from behind.

The Devil's Gaze Mirabella let out a soft laugh, leaning slightly forward on the polished counter, her fingers now wrapped around a glass of sparkling lemonade. Mario, the grey-haired bartender with eyes that still held a glint of wild youth, had just told her a story about a drunk politician who'd once mistaken the stage for a urinal. "And he pissed right there on stage," Mario said, wiping a glass dry with a knowing grin. "Stage lights and all. He damn near gave the girls a stroke."

Walking around the bar, he assessed where the Black Devil Spitfire had sent the two pirate toms when he spoke the words "to where you belong." Jinx had briefly explained this was his bar, The Mousetrap - a speakeasy and home of illegal games of chance that law enforcement turned a blind eye to thanks to Hades - before fucking off with his Demon behind a secret door. That was it. No further explanation. No suggestion of where to sleep but the Orangelo was very distracted. They could talk after some breakfast. Wandering in the storeroom, Priest found a coffee pot. He couldn't remember the last time he had coffee. It was hard to get on the high seas.

Let the drama begin. “It’s been hard to be bad,” he said in a pitiful voice, “I don’t have the respect or help I used to have. Quotas to meet, monthly horned head counts, dream appearances, worshipping hours, and pacts in exchange for crappy souls. I’m only one Devil!”

Hard. And the devil had watched, smiling the whole way down.

People, even most of the brothers, tend to avoid him. Wilhelm, on the other hand, is our bartender on the side. The happy-go-lucky kind of son of a bitch. Devil tried to hire other bartenders in the beginning, but Wilhelm always drove them away. I remember him telling us, back when he was a prospect, that his family used to own a bar and that bartending makes him feel at home. After that, Devil stopped looking and let his Road Captain do whatever the hell he wanted.

Wolves collided with the shadows of those wings, thrown across the room as blood and instant death erupted. Vivica froze, eyes wide, her chest rising as she watched the devil himself descend upon them. The dark blue aura surrounding him pressed against her burning skin, sending a thrill along her heated skin, and desire, through her. All the rumors about him turned out to be true. He was the Devil. The real Devil. Finn stepped forward deliberately, each movement slow, lethal, deliberate. He stopped just in front of her, the room now deathly silent except for the beat of her pulsing heat.

We rush toward the back entrance, heels clattering against the concrete. I glance up at the board. The Tavern was Matteo’s club.The man my father owes everything to,The Don of the Diavoli. He was cold and calculated. Eyes like dead glass. The kind of man people don’t look at too long. Ruby tugs at the hem of her skirt nervously. “He’s gonna sell us to one of those whorehouses. We’re late.” “He doesn’t deal in that kind of business,” I reply automatically. “You know that.”

The kind of name that makes old men drink harder when it’s spoken. I close the message and stare at the wall. The fire crackles in the hearth behind me, each pop and spark sounding too much like gunfire. I pour another drink, the amber liquid trembling slightly as it hits the glass. “To the man I used to be,” I mutter. The whiskey burns down my throat, but I don’t stop. The pain reminds me I’m still human. Barely. Isabella’s voice slides into my memory, soft but trembling. “You’re changing, Adrian. I don’t know if it’s for the better.”

I felt his eyes on me the whole time and the actions of last night clouded in my memory. Who would believe such an excuse? I wasn’t a fool. The way he screwed those women? That showed how desperate he wanted it. I strolled into a trending saloon in the street. The saloon was one of the best and fancy in the city and big women visited the place for hair and spa treatment. Fortunately, I was friends with the owner of the place and she had promised to help me with a job if ever I was stranded. As I was about to enter the saloon completely, I saw Jane and three huge-looking men. Immediately, I hid behind the makeover room, staring at her anxiously and wondering what she was doing there. It was s