Whis Vados Novels & Stories

The asshole, first time I take him serious, I have to strip "No" He pouts "That's boring" "No one was asking you" Ber says, the spoon already in his hand "There are reasons why no one listens to Coco, Brat" I don't say anything to him, cause he's obviously right, Chocolate is a high maintenance risk, if that's a thing before I drink it. Hot liquid burns in my throat, causing me to cough, hard. Caramel's rubbing my back as I look at Coco. There are tears in my eyes as he says "Ah well, Vanilla isn't good with wine"

Only Bourbon, Whisky or Vodka. Sighing, Isadora didn’t really like any type of alcohol, as it made good people and wolves do stupid and hurtful things. Her brother Chase had gotten addicted to wolfsbane-infused brandy, and whenever he had been binging, she was always on the receiving end of his fists when he would return home. Feeling that it would be rude to decline, she nods and whispers. ‘Maybe a little glass of Whisky.’

Vados approaches the pair that politely wait. Vados is a Gorgualy and human mix. His skin is that of human flesh that looks like it has been tempered with the elements of the forest. With each step, he takes some of his skin flakes off of his face like bark from a tree and falls to the ground. Those eyes of his are a pale blue that looks like they have been corrupted with a sickness. That forestry body of his wears a black coat, and black capris with a belt that has a strap for his pistole. The chest is exposed and out in the open as he does not have a shirt on. There are many scars on his stomach and chest but they all look like carvings as if children carved along his body as they would on

No one would dare to provoke Thomas anymore. They knew very clearly that they were the animals, and they could never hope to fight against this terrifying lion! Thomas exhaled and looked at Craig. “Mr. Eastwood, do you have more?” Everyone was speechless. ‘Does he have more?’ Hah. That was Everclear Grain Vodka, something with 75% alcohol content. It was one of the strongest spirits in the world, and he was not satisfied even after drinking two bottles? Did he think he was drinking Heineken?

Collections of wine, all categories from foreign brandy and whisky to champagnes and red wines. Wayne grabbed a bottle of Johnnie Walker's Black Label and poured himself a hearty glass. He put in a few cubes of ice from the fridge and took a long swig at it. The whisky rushed down his throat, dousing every ounce of desire left. Nothing like a good glass of alcohol to relax you and summon sleep. He heard Rojan descend the steps and come to join him at the bar, he climbed atop one of the bar stools. Wayne gingerly poured another glass for him.

Claire, Kathryn, Violet, Gold, and Crystal first appeared spaced out before their enemies, then an army of tormented and haunted whispers appeared behind them, and Rose materialized before her party. The Baron, a slim man with deadly yellow eyes, saw her, and shivered. He tried to vanish, but the air rejected his request, for Violet held him still. The sea raged against his party and began to pick them off, and fire fell amongst their midst, burning the men to cinders, but leaving the whispers to bask in the warmth of the flame. A blizzard came from Claire, and the ground shook. Whispers rushed past Rose, running to the army of the Baron, and engaging them in a productive battle that saw to

The scent of cinnamon, butter, and basil danced through the crisp autumn air of Bellwood Falls. After nearly four years in Tuscany, Amara and Luca had returned not permanently, but for something big. The town square was strung with lanterns. Booths lined the cobbled streets. Kids chased each other with paper chef hats. And in the middle of it all, a hand-painted sign hung between two oak trees: “The Whisked Away Festival, Love, Food, Family.”

She glanced down at the bottle once more, just with disappointment as she noted she had only finished half. She came to another halt in her tracks as she held her breath, hoping to dilute the godly awful taste as she gulped as much as she could- resisting a splutter that rose in her throat at the taste. She had diluted the earlier and worse tasting beverage with the likeliness of coca-cola, the glass weighing less and less in her hands as she squeezed her eyes shut and-

One hand lingered in her satchel, gripping something I couldn’t see. “Now, now,” Vad echoed. “Let’s all settle down. Keep your claws in.” Before I could respond to him, he walked straight to Eamon’s table, poured himself a glass of wine, and took a sip. Classy old bastard. “What the hell are you doing?” I growled. “Yuck,” Vad grimaced, setting the glass down with a deliberate clink. “How do you drink this? It’s awful.” Eamon raised an eyebrow. “It’s good stuff. Got it from an alpha’s stash.”

Vladi Vodka was introducing a line of premixed specialty martinis: apple, chocolate, key lime, orange, cherry, and lemon. I’d run a ton of parties over the last couple of years promoting Vladi Vodka, though it wasn’t my favorite; it had a metallic aftertaste that had to be covered up with mixers. “Sounds yummy,” I said, toying with the top button of my shirt. He barely looked up from his laptop. “I want to introduce new products in gay neighborhoods around the country. You will coordinate all events.”