Whiskey Words And A Shovel Series Novels & Stories

Matthew's POV I tipped the glass to my lips and swallowed the last of the whiskey in one punishing, deliberate gulp. The burn hit instantly, searing its way down my throat like wildfire, leaving a trail of raw, relentless heat that forced a grunt out of me. It clawed at my insides, but even that pain felt hollow. Not enough. Nowhere near enough. I wanted it to do more than just sting—I needed it to scorch away the thoughts that kept crashing through my skull like a wrecking ball. The guilt. The shame. The helplessness that gnawed at me, hour after hour. If only whiskey could char memories the same way it torched my throat, I might’ve stood a chance tonight.

Pulling out my strongest whiskey, I decided to ditch the glass and go for a better and more traditional way to drink it: putting the bottle directly to my mouth. “Why!!! Why!!! Why!! Why do I have to be the asshole, even in this situation!! Why am I the dumbest person in this entire world…? If Adrin is my son, then not only am I the culprit of Ashley, but his too… And if not, then I don't even know when my child was sacrificed because of the misunderstandings between me and her.” I feel my throat hurting like there is a lump stuck inside it, and I down several gulps of the whiskey to force it down.

Lu Chen looked at his best friend and hurried back, his feet in a hurry. "There's a ghost chasing after you?" Sworded eyebrows raised in a snicker. Kane B. Fellows stride around Lu Chen's side, walked to the liquor cabinet, pulled open the glass door, did not look, roughly picked up a bottle of whiskey, unscrewed on the mouth of the bottle, gulp big mouth to pour, between seconds, look at a bottle of new wine, has been removed most of the bottle.

Brax's POV The taste of whiskey burned like fire, numbing every part of me that still felt pain. It was my armour of choice tonight—a shield against memories that refused to stay buried. Dylan and Kasey watched with eyes full of quiet concern, but they understood. Sometimes, all you could do was let the liquor drown the ghosts before they drowned you.

In just a swift motion, I am now holding a bottle of whiskey, poured it into my glass without thinking anything but to satisfy myself, and without having any doubts, I drank it in just a single gulp and looked at everyone who was eyeing me with shock written on their eyes. Even though the music is still banging all over the place, I still could hear the silence our table made upon giving me a look with disbelief. They were in that state for seconds and shouted with joy in the chorus as they looked at me as if they were cheering me up. “Our Phoria is back! Hail!” shouted by Penelope, seconded by Tangerine, before they weighed themselves and stood up with a glass of whiskey in their both hands

I reject. "A whiskey wouldn't hurt" my eyes broadens at Alex. "What!?" She huffs. "A whiskey amidst mourns?" I face palm myself. She greatly despises the Posey's but crave their drink. Alex definitely is something else. "She joke's mam, we're okay" I speak for Alex and myself. Their distain gaze towards Alex explains their hidden rage. They fear unveiling such rage within my presence. No doubt Alex will be rage dead in my absence. But really?, a whiskey amidst mourns is really unprofessional, annoying and childish.

"I've never met them or talked to any of them, but I've always wanted to. Jagger's never come in with B, but he's dropped her off before. I have a cousin who used to be a stripper down at Wet Wanda's, and she said they were all polite when they came in, but they were badass if someone got out of line." "I met Travis once before," she whispered, afraid that even that would be giving the other woman too much info. Shelby's mouth opened to ask questions, but the bell rang, signaling someone was coming into the shop. Christine whirled around and thanked God that it was a regular, and all talk of the Heaven Hill MC was gone. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she saw that she had a missed text

Andrew shrugged and refilled both of the cups with coffee, but this time with a bit of whiskey for his little brother. “Yeah, for you, they painted this amazing story and amazing things and exciting combat…but I got 4 worms and a skeleton in the Neolithic, thanks, by the way, you know how hard is to get hold of these brands these days” he sipped his coffee and made a satisfied expression, sighed and slumped on his chair. “I get you, but I thought you were enjoying it? Your messages said that it was kind of fun to mess around with them” Andrew crossed his legs and sipped from his cup.

Whiskey. I gave Tobias and the angry woman a large birth and made my way back to the shed where they had been keeping the prisoner. The searching warriors were moving further away from the village, just as I had hoped they would. This should be a quick and relatively easy task. Not even Gunner and his little bitch Mate will get in the way of my mission. I climbed onto the same tyre, under the same window, and peered through the dirty glass once more. Gunner’s mother and father had left now, but the prisoner wasn’t left alone. One of the dirty wolves from Doyle’s pack was now joined by three people, probably members of Gunner’s pack. Though looking at the fowl glare and the dishevelled appear

Lexy turned to look at Ethan and repeated what she said, then she winked and left. “Whiskey…. Whiskey….” Ethan hurriedly rinsed his whole body, chanting the word whiskey mindlessly. It was not that he did not know what to do that the man was like silly saying the same word again and again as he was inside the shower, it was because Ethan was trying to scan his memory of which one was the best among the finished products and even the ones still in the laboratory of whiskey that he had seen in the company until recently. And just as he was about to get done, he remembered something. He rushed out of the bathroom with a very bright and bouncy mood.