The Red Shoes

By Celeste Hall

A Modern Fairytale Erotic Fantasy Adventure

Karen is a celebrity photographer that finds herself in possession of a small fortune after she captures the proposal of a famous couple on film. Her first luxury purchase, is a pair of incredible red shoes. But the shoemaker has a dire warning. The more she wears these sexy magic shoes, the stronger the curse upon them grows.

WARNING: This erotic fantasy adventure is a modern fairytale retold for adults. Although it is based upon the Red Shoes fairytale, there is explicit sex and language. The magic curse doesn't cause our sexy heroine to dance. It stirs a much more erotic adventure.
If you enjoy modern fairytale retellings for adults, about sexy heroines and even sexier magic curses, you'll probably enjoy this modern erotic fantasy adventure. Otherwise, you might want to look at one of my tamer stories.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Celeste Hall
• Release date: Dec 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311821089

Celeste Hall

Celeste Hall is a passionate writer of paranormal and erotic romance with over twenty-five titles to her credit, including Beware of Wolves, the Kitty Coven series, and her ultra-sexy Seduction series. If you're looking for a sizzling escape from the pressures of a long day, her alpha hero incubi will make you purr.Celeste believes that a great book can do more than offer an afternoon's pleasure, it can change your life. She is absolutely addicted to happy endings. Her favorite stories will often include elements of the paranormal or fantastical, but they will always have a romantic heart.When not writing, Celeste enjoys traveling and spending time outdoors. She also enjoys photography, graphic design, a variety of artistic mediums, gardening, horseback riding and geeking out online - especially on Facebook.You can find a full list of her books by visiting: CelesteHall.com.

Book preview

The Red Shoes

By Celeste Hall

The Red Shoes

Copyright © 2014 by Celeste Hall

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Please purchase only authorized editions.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

All sexually active characters in this book are 18 years of age or older.

Up from the Shadows

Matt shrugged.

Just look at you. Perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect outfit…

Perfectly bored, Karen finished for her friend, leaning back against the bar and gazing out at the white sandy beach before her.

Scantily clothed men and women speckled the horizon, but few children could be seen. The resort catered to older, wealthy couples. Couples, being a keyword in that sentence, there were very few single men or women within sight.

That was just one of the many reasons why Karen’s only real friend was the hotel bartender. The two of them were bluebirds trying to fit in with a flock of robins.

For Matthew it was a matter of choice, the tips were better than anything he could make further inland. But for Karen, it was pure survival.

She’d occasionally run barefoot across the beach here, escaping from punishment or the police. As the only child of a beggar woman, Karen was almost always in some form of trouble or other, and just as frequently barefoot. Meals and shoes had not come easily for them.

A few months before her death, Karen’s mother had fashioned a little pair of red cloth slippers for her, to help protect her feet from stones and thorns. But the slippers would fill with sand and become clumsy when Karen attempted to steal bits of food or drink from unwatchful beach visitors.

She quickly learned to leave the slippers at home and wear them only to the chapel on Sunday, which her mother insisted they always attend.

Karen had worn the red slippers on the day that her mother died, standing over the coffin with skinned knees and red rimmed eyes. An orphan with nobody left to see that she ever had shoes again.

Sister Teresa, from the local convent, had taken Karen home that night. She then lived at the convent until she was nearly twenty, and had loved the gentle sisters for their care.

They’d given her a formal education and she lacked for nothing. But her clothing had been simple and her room almost sterile. She’d missed the freedom of being able to run barefoot across the sand, and she’d still longed for the pretty clothes and expensive toys that other children had.

As she remembered those long years, Karen fingered the hem of her sarong.

She was no longer a scrawny little orphan thief. She could now buy all of the things that she’d longed for during her simple life at the convent. But with adulthood came different needs and desires. Her heart now longed for the unconditional love and companionship that she’d had from her mother, and later from the sisters of the church.

She was unhappier now then she’d ever been during her entire impoverished childhood.

Oh fickle heart, she murmured.

What’s that? Matthew queried coming back from the other side of the horseshoe shaped bar.

It’s nothing.

With a self depreciating chuckle she took another sip from the frosted glass beside her, enjoying the fresh tang of strawberry and the pleasant bite of rum. But as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror-like reflection of the bar counter, the