How cool is this? Several months ago, Ashlyn Chase wrote and asked me whether I would like to write a story in a series featuring magical red stilettos. The concept sounded fun, so I jumped on board. The first story is already out, and you can read an excerpt right now! Here’s the order of releases. Every story is stand-alone, but if you like reading a series, you’re in for a treat! Be sure to check out Paris Brandon’s website for more information about this author!
Height-challenged Bella Jacienski literally falls head over magic red stilettos into sexy philanthropist’s Rhys Vincent’s arms and wonders if the legend attached to the shoes is true. Has she found her heart’s desire, a passionate, lust-crazed lover who wants only her? Always and forever?
Rhys can’t keep his big hands off the curvy shopkeeper. Her smile captivates him and her lush body has him behaving like a primitive Neanderthal. Heated glances and sizzling touches turn into a hot office interlude and wild break-the-bed sex that only make him want her more. She thinks the shoes are magic but Bella is all the magic he needs.
Rhys Vincent ground his back teeth and took Veronica Smith–Hathaway’s elbow as they crossed the street. It was snowing and not for the first time did he wish he were wearing boots instead of dress shoes with his tux. Ronnie didn’t seem to notice the puddle that soaked her designer heels or the frigid wind that tore at the edges of her flimsy black evening coat. Neither had been designed for January in Kansas City.
Veronica—Ronnie—was his best friend Brian’s estranged wife. She had insisted she knew a shop that had the fedora they needed to complete the scavenger-hunt list—right after he’d politely refused her offer to give him the best sex of his life. Was it too much to ask for a woman who didn’t have an agenda to want to have sex with him? He’d been down the revenge-sex path years ago and it was one he didn’t want to take with a woman he’d known for twenty years.
He’d promised Brian that he’d keep an eye on her and that meant he couldn’t very well let her walk around alone in the Crossroads art district after dark.
As CEO of the Vincent Foundation, he’d put Veronica in charge of the annual event as a favor. One he was coming to regret. He was still trying to figure out why Brian was so worried about a wife he’d clearly been neglecting for the past year when Ronnie leaned over and peered into a dimly lit shop.
“There it is,” she hissed, pointing at a weathered brown fedora, jauntily perched on a torso mannequin’s head. Before he could figure out why she was hissing, he glanced through the window, started to shout and everything went into slow motion.
He saw a pair of curvy legs that ended in sexy red spike heels leaning forward and overbalancing a rickety ladder. The bell over the door jangled as he pushed it open and sprinted three full strides. He reached her before she finished screaming.
“She” was an armful of black and white fluff he grabbed and swept out of the way as the ladder fell.
Maybe he couldn’t breathe because she’d smacked him square in the chest but he didn’t think so. Although it could have been because her arms were wrapped solidly around his neck, as if she didn’t intend to let go anytime soon. Fine by him.
He didn’t know if she was shocked that he’d caught her or because she knew the shudder that rippled through her like a faint orgasm had telegraphed its way into his fingertips. She looked like a naughty fairy-tale princess with big blue eyes. A fall of silky dark hair brushed the top of her black turtleneck and her creamy cheeks were flushed as bright as an apple. She knew.