Rogue Spirits Sunset Bar Novels & Stories

“That depends on the guy. You showing up here unannounced? Either you are nostalgic or stupid or probably both.” I walked further in, brushing the dust off a nearby workbench. “You do not miss this place even a little?” Rogue took a long drag, exhaled the smoke that curled through the dim air. “All I know is that I miss the smell of money when we used to win races. Everything else? Not so much.” I chuckled and reached into my jacket pocket, bringing out a small bottle of whiskey. “I brought a peace offering.” Her expression softened slightly. “Well, why didn’t you lead with that?”

Just like she is. “What will it be?” The bartender asks. “Bloss?” I ask. “Erm...” She peruses the cocktail menu. “I’ll have a Margarita, please.” “And I’ll have a Blue Label Scotch on the rocks.” I smile at the beautiful woman sitting opposite me. After spending the afternoon in bed we’ve been out for dinner and now we’re having drinks. The conversation flows easy and she makes me laugh. I feel like I’m hanging out with a good friend. There’s no bullshit at all between us. We are seated in the corner of a trendy club. The decor is dark and moody, and the copper bar is large. Huge, black, metal pendant lights hang down from the center of the ceiling.

I change into jeans and a sweatshirt then take a short walk to a run-down dive bar with a brunch service. It’s not even 10:00 A.M. when the bartender slides a frosted glass full to the brim with a dark, rich ale in my direction. I press a few dollars onto the counter before walking to a booth in the back corner of the bar and sit down, sighing, before drinking half of the beer in one go, barely tasting it. A TV over the bar is playing the news. I watch in silence as images of the Roguelands bleed into Moonrise, where Maeve appears, waving to spectators as she steps off a private train car surrounded by her guards.

"Sure. Moonhowl Den in thirty?" "See you there," I replied before hanging up. I stared at my reflection in the rearview mirror. My eyes looked hollow, haunted even. I barely recognized the wolf looking back at me. The drive to Moonhowl Den passed in a blur. I barely remembered parking or entering the territory den bar. By the time I settled at our usual private table, a server was already arranging bottles across the surface—imported moonlight wine, venison beer, and several varieties of rare wolfsbane spirits.

Jeremy spoke to Ross who was hesitant about staying back as Amber and Nina resolved to stay back as well and he was getting the icks from their presence. They stepped into the inviting bar. And it had a warm amber glow emanating from the elegant glass fixtures overhead, illuminating the rich wood of the counter and the sleek, chrome-finished bar stools. Behind the counter, the shelves were lined with a variety of spirits, their amber, gold, and crystal bottles reflecting the warm light like jewels. A skilled mixologist stood at the ready, ready to whip up any number of exotic cocktails or classic favorites. Nina and Amber were seated on the stool sipping out of their cocktail looking at the

Ambrose emerged from behind the door and asked, "Where did they come from?" The boss took a deep breath and said bitterly, "They are the desert pirates from the Soaring Eagle Fort. They are a bunch of bad people who will kill people to steal. Every month I need to give them money to avoid them from seeking trouble with my restaurant. However, They are getting more and more absurd. Asking me to prepare 50 barrels of alcohol just because their Main Leader is getting married? Where am I going to find so much alcohol?" The boss spat on his thigh. "Fine. Rather than sitting here waiting for my death, why don't I just leave? I feel bad for leaving this restaurant I have been operating for so many

Possibly, there could be a way to hunt down this beast, yet how long wouldn't take to study the ethics of its domination and movement? He picked himself up from the ground, laying Ashley on the ground as he walked around, bending downwards, picking up broken trees branches and twigs. Each werewolf pack had their own beliefs and principles. One which remained for the silver moon pack for years was the principles of cremation. They never believed in the burying of their dead, they thought of burning their bodies to avoid the cases of having a rebirth which could cause something drastic in the pack. There might have been someone out there who had the thoughts of the phantom being a product of a

"Are you sure it's only tropical drinks?" the female bartender glanced at the man before her. She was used to serving him, but his drink seemed different from usual this time. "Yes!" Lucas touched his glass of drink; he turned to the other side, a sign that he didn't want to be disturbed. The female bartender continued her work. Sunrise Bar is more relaxed than usual; classical music makes the interior design of this elite bar more elegant. Manhattan, soon to welcome winter and near the end of Lucas Sage's year, feels empty than he can bear—a skyspoon CEO. Ltd, for the first time, felt his life was not lively.

Dom shrugged into his coat and he stepped out, asking his capable manager to keep an eye on everything. Slipping behind the wheel of his SUV. He set off to the bar across the city. * A city bar in the U.S. has a very particular atmosphere, especially when someone comes in to drown his sorrows. The Devil and Sons was no different. A landmark of the craft cocktail movement, it had an extensive menu that helped innovate the modern cocktail scene

“You’ve earned it.” Before I could respond, someone handed me a drink—a strong, spiced concoction that burned pleasantly as it went down. I relaxed a little, letting the warmth of the moment seep into me. For once, it felt good to celebrate. The music started a few minutes later, a lively tune played on a battered guitar that someone had managed to salvage. A few of the rogues began dancing, their movements wild and free. I shook my head, laughing at their antics. “I didn’t know we had such talented dancers in the group.”