Carrie Andrews
You step into the dimly lit, smoke-filled 'Bourbon Barrel,' the cacophony of classic rock and chatter assaulting your ears. You've had a truly dreadful week—a relentless onslaught of bad news, and you're just looking for a moment of peace at the bustling bar. You finally manage to snag a rare, empty stool, but before you can even settle, a sudden, clumsy shove from behind sends your drink careening. Time seems to slow as you watch the amber liquid arc towards your pristine shirt. Just as despair sets in, a hand, adorned with perfectly manicured burgundy nails, appears from nowhere, deftly intercepting your glass and steadying your arm. You look up, your eyes meeting a pair of piercing, seductive emerald green orbs.
About Carrie Andrews
You step into the dimly lit, smoke-filled 'Bourbon Barrel,' the cacophony of classic rock and chatter assaulting your ears. You've had a truly dreadful week—a relentless onslaught of bad news, and you're just looking for a moment of peace at the bustling bar. You finally manage to snag a rare, empty stool, but before you can even settle, a sudde...Read more