The Red Shoe Chronicles : A Fantasy Romance Anthology

by N. R. Larry

  Orion bent until they were eye level, keeping his hands on the sides of the chair so she wouldn’t spin off. “There is no desperation required. No magic code to bring me to you. There is only a promise of love, sweet Doctor.”

  He couldn’t be real. Eden placed her hands on his cheeks, feeling the heat of him. “How is this possible?” she whispered.

  Orion winked. “We will call it a gift from the gods, if you wish.”

  “But I don’t have the shoes anymore.”

  “You don’t need the shoes. Not now. You want adventure. You want passion. Yes?”

  Eden nodded vigorously, her heart leaping. “Yes.”

  “What do you say you take a leap of faith and see where it takes you?” He stood and held out a hand to her.

  “I know where it will take me.” Her smile was wide enough to break her face. “I know I’ll land among the stars.”

  Heat filled her. Love. Passion. Anything and everything she’d ever wanted waited for her in his offer.

  The moment their lips touched, starlight burst to life, exploding out from where they stood. When the light extinguished, the lab was empty. But anyone bothering to look up at the midnight sky would have seen an unexpectedly bright new star in the heart of the Orion constellation. And wondered at its arrival.

  The End

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  About the Author

  BREA VIRAGH is a USA Today Bestselling contemporary and paranormal romance writer based in the Blue Ridge Mountains. She is a proud Gryffindor, a graduate of Brakebills, and a member of Fairy Tail. Klaus Hargreeves is her bestie. When she isn’t writing and daydreaming about her newest project, her hobbies include binge-watching HGTV, scouring thrift shops for goodies, and maintaining her alpha status among her puppy and three cats.

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  Hell over Heels

  Anya J Cosgrove

  About Hell over Heels

  Revenge is a shoe best served by a hot Scottish sailor.

  Can you call nineteen months without sex, pining over your stupid ex a slump?

  My two loving, overbearing best friends think so.

  In one weekend, I have to host a wedding at my marina and move on. A sex-exorcism with the most eligible bachelor in St-Claire seems like the only way to go. Only, there’s a mysterious Scottish sailor harbored in the bay. There’s something not quite right about him, and yet he feels familiar.

  Can I unveil his secrets and keep my soul, or is revenge a one-way ticket to hell?

  A Woman Scorned

  “I found you a date for the wedding,” Audrey announces as I slump into the passenger seat of her lustrous silver Audi. The bun on top of her head holds her black mane captive, and she’s still in her faded and overworked hospital scrubs.

  My shoulders tense. “A date?” I maneuver my overnight bag into the tight space behind her seat. The mountain of empty Diet Coke cans hoarded in the back threatens to topple over. “I don’t need a date.”

  “You need sex, that’s what you need.” Audrey snorts before putting the car in gear.

  I shake my head with a grin. “Thank you for picking me up, but I could have walked.”

  “Nonsense. I missed you.’ She glances at me sideways. “He’s a friend from college. He’s been transferred to Richmond as head surgeon and—”

  I raise my hand up in alarm. “No! No doctors!”

  Air blows out of her red-painted lips. “Not all doctors are assholes. I’m living proof of that.”

  “You know how much I hate fix-ups. I’ll meet a guy when I meet a guy.”

  “Which will be never in this boring town.”

  I pick at a loose strand in my denim shorts. “Never is good for me.”

  She drives down the road to the marina. “How many years has it been since you and Lee broke up? Two?”

  The ocean gleams up the path ahead, and we park in my reserved spot by the entrance of the restaurant.

  Aud taps my arm gently. “Maddie. How long has it been?”

  I press my lips together. “Nineteen months.”

  She throws her arms up in the air. “You know the exact number of months!”

  I stick my tongue out and escape into the sunshine. A salty breeze fills my lungs, and the tension in my shoulders eases. It’s good to be back.

  “Hey, Maddie! Aud! Over here,” Jill calls from the main pier of St-Claire’s marina, waving her hands around.

  A flock of seagulls squawk overhead, spooked by her outburst. The wood planks shift under my weight when I step on the wharf and walk over to the bride-to-be.

  “How was your vacation?” She asks. A big frown is stuck on her face while she struggles to plug the finicky shore power cord of her Regal cruiser into the main electrical outlet.

  I bend down to help her. “I’d hardly call a three-night stay in Richmond a vacation.”

  She adjusts the white cap over her thick blond ponytail. “For a workaholic like you, it counts as one.”

  I can’t tell them that my “vacation” was spent listening to my aunt rant about her neighbors while I scrubbed her apartment. “Are you nervous? Has Kyle sobered up from his bachelor party?”

  She bounces from one foot to the other. “Did Aud tell you?”

  Her face is twisted in anguish, and my heart hammers.

  Aud leans against the stainless-steel railing of Jill’s boat, her gaze stuck on her shoes. “I didn’t have enough time.”

  My gaze jumps between my two infuriating best friends. “What happened?” They look at each other, and the turmoil in my stomach rises to my mouth. “Audrey Medina, tell me right now why your face looks like it did the day you got your first period or so help me God I’ll—”

  “Lee changed his mind. He’s bringing a plus-one to the wedding,” Jill squeaks, clearly horrified to be the bearer of such bad news.

  Lee. As in my ex-fiancé. My arms fall to my sides.

  “Do you know if he’s bringing her?” I whisper, my throat tighter than the noose tying the boat to the wharf.

  Her. Charlize Mathieu. The rich French girl he left me for or cheated on me with. A few details of the timeline are still being debated.

  My best friends nod in unison. Tears mist over Jill’s eyes, but Aud’s fists are balled at her sides. The nasty stir in my belly is dizzying.

  I spin around and walk to shore while my brain implodes with questions and grievances. “I’m so confused. They broke up months ago.”

  Aud wraps an arm around me. “He’s got no soul bringing her here.”

  My nails dig into my palms. “You deserve a drama-free wedding. Lee is Kyle’s cousin and best man. I knew he might bring someone.”

  Jill’s lips curl down. “Yes, but he said he wouldn’t.”

  “He’s good at changing his mind,” I snicker dryly. I cross my arms and try to think about anything other than Lee Leblanc. Anything but the look on his face when he bent down on one knee, right in the middle of this pier, and asked me to marry him. The water was calm, and the sky was powdered with white clouds, just like today.

  “This is why you found me a date,” I say to Audrey.

  A sheepish smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “He’s really handsome. Lee would hate him.”

  I shake my head no, and Aud holds me tighter. I don’t care how rich or sexy this surgeon is, he’s not Lee, and I don’t have the energy to babysit a fake date. “Did anything else happen while I was away?” I ask, desperate to change the subject.

  “Kyle and I managed without you, for the most part.” Jill points to the other end of the marina.

  There’s a gorgeous Catalina 445 docked in pier 18. Gentle waves splash against its sides, and its sleek white fiberglass shines in the sunlight. The mainsail mast casts a long shadow over the bow.

  My heart squeezes. It’s been a while since I’ve seen on
e. Such unfamiliar beauties have been scarce this season, with the new marina over in Peter’s Bay.

  “Visitor or newbie?” I ask.

  “Visitor. He arrived Monday night, right after you left.” She throws a glance over her shoulders to the pristine yacht. “He hasn’t paid the moorage for tonight yet.”

  My mouth opens. “What are you waiting for? It’s past six.” If there’s one thing I abhor, it’s rich sailors who cheap out on docking fees.

  “I tried to talk to him.”

  I raise an unimpressed brow.

  “He’s really intense, okay? He’s from Scotland, and I swear he was molded directly from a dolmen. One glance from him gives me chills.” She rubs her arms for emphasis.

  “You turn to mush in the presence of anyone who’s not Kyle,” Aud huffs.

  “Let me deal with him,” I say.

  “Aye, captain. We’ll see you inside.” Aud grabs Jill’s arm and pulls her up the path.

  I strut up the pier to the sailing boat. My white sneakers squeak against the wood.

  “Hello?” I call out to the stern.

  The cabin door clicks open, and a beast of a man strolls out. He stretches his arms to the sky, and I half-expect him to summon a thundercloud. His skin is tanned but smooth. The top of his pale faded jeans highlights his sculpted abs.

  I instinctively take a step back.

  Two dark orbs zero-in on me, and his head cocks to the side.

  I brace my arms on my hips, trying to regain my composure. “Hi. I’m Madison Hellis, the owner. My associate forgot to remind you that the docking fee is to be paid in advance for every day of your stay. If you would accompany me to the main office, we can settle your bill.”

  “You’re Patrick’s daughter,” he answers in a thick Scottish accent.

  His rough, masculine tone ripples across my skin and tugs at something ancient inside of my brain. An elusive hint of familiarity hangs in my chest. “You knew my Dad?” My voice cracks.

  There’s an eerie pause. I avoid the inquisitive stare of the Scot as unshed tears melt the white, blue, and black of his sailing boat to a blotch of watercolors.

  The stranger’s face darkens, and he passes a hand through his dark brown hair. “He was a good lad. Helped me out with a nasty scratch once. I’m sorry to hear that he passed.”

  I nod, swallowing back the tears.

  He pats down his pockets and pries out a stack of money. “Here. This should cover me for a week.”

  I gawk at the rolled one-hundred-dollar bills. “Your daily fee is $45. There’s at least a thousand here. Unless you plan to stay for the summer—”

  “Consider it a gift.” His stony gaze travels from my slick brown braid to the freckles over my breasts and lingers there for a moment before falling to the hem of my denim shorts.

  Heat blooms across my neck. I know that look on a man’s face, and it’s not harmless. I lift my chin. “Are you trying to buy me or something?”

  “I liked your father. I know money must be tight for you since the marina in Peter’s Bay opened.”

  My jaw clenches. “I do not need your pity, Mr.…?”

  “Barron. Lucas Barron.”

  “I do not need more than I’m owed, Mr. Barron.”

  A dimple flashes at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t be so proud, lass.”

  A hot, oily churn squeezes my stomach. I hurriedly count the bills and cram the change inside the palm of his huge hand, careful not to touch his skin. “Here. One week paid in full. We’ll expect you out next Thursday, Mr. Barron.” I whip around and walk away before he gets a chance to answer.

  I’m damn tired of seeing pity in people’s eyes all the time.

  Poor Maddie lost her father and her fiancé. Sad little Maddie is obsessed over her ex. Doomed little Maddie is running a dying business; she shouldn’t have dropped out of college.

  When I learned that Dad’s illness was terminal, I moved back to St-Claire to spend as much time as I could with him. We were lucky enough to get more than a year before death claimed him, but my fiancé saw my absence as an opportunity to cancel our wedding and fuck my coworker.

  If I hadn’t found them naked in our old bed, I might not be so bitter. I might not have this greedy hole in my chest, howling for revenge.

  Family Business

  The icy kiss of the air conditioning soothes my feverish skin when I strut inside the restaurant. Jill is over by the register while Audrey sips on a freshly poured beer at the counter. It’s a slow Thursday night, but a few couples are giggling over full glasses of wine and Kyle’s exquisite cuisine.

  The floor-to-ceiling bay windows offer a stunning view of the sunset. The sea twinkles with orange and pink hues, and the skin at the back of my neck crawls. How disgustingly romantic.

  Jill and Kyle’s restaurant is the only thing keeping the marina afloat. They could bring in more customers if they moved downtown, and I’m eternally grateful to them for sticking with me. This place is my whole life, literally. I’ve lived in the apartment upstairs since I was a little girl.

  I show Jill the cash in my hands and punch the Scot’s money in before leaning against the black quartz countertop.

  She pours three shots of tequila and glides one in my direction.

  “I don’t want a date, but I need a better dress for the rehearsal dinner,” I say.

  Aud raises her glass in the air. “Amen.”

  I gulp the shot down. Alcohol doesn’t ease the bite of Lee’s betrayal, still fresh even though it’s been nineteen months, but it’s a start. “I want to wear something I wouldn’t normally wear. With lace or cleavage or both.”

  “Finally! I’ve been telling you for months that you need to enjoy your new figure. And I have the perfect dress in my car,” Aud says.

  My nose wrinkles. “Nothing you own could possibly fit me.”

  “It was a size too big for me, but I forgot to return it.”

  She comes back a few minutes later with a clear garment bag wrapped around her forearm. “Here.”

  I tug the zipper down to look at the dress more closely.

  It’s a luscious black cocktail dress with a plunging neckline and a flowy skirt. The fabric shimmers under the last rays of sunset, and the silk is so delicate and light in my hand that a shiver runs down my spine.

  “He’s going to rue the day that he let his eyes wander away from you,” Jill chimes.

  I swallow hard. No matter how hot this dress is, Lee won’t look at me twice. As long as the French broomstick is in the room, all the blood goes south, and his brain shuts down.

  “Charlize is walking into a den of wolves. No one in this town wants to see or talk to her,” Jill adds as though she read my mind.

  “It makes no difference. I’m over him,” I lie.

  My best friends look at me with tenderness and patience. They’re no fools, and it kills me to admit that they’re right.

  “He wasn’t supposed to bring anyone,” Jill mumbles under her breath.

  I know what she’s thinking. Kyle, Lee, Jill and I were inseparable in high school. If the circumstances were different, her wedding might have set the table for a reconciliation.

  Aud’s fist curls again. “She’s better off without him.”

  “But wouldn’t it make her feel better to know for a fact that he regrets his decision?” Jill says.

  “He should regret it. In fact, he should grovel and beg for her forgiveness, not bring his floozy to the scene of the crime.”

  With a wince, I escape the spirited discussion. It’s my life that’s ruined, not theirs, but somehow, they care more about it. The washroom’s door closes behind me with a click, and I slip the dress from the hanger.

  The cool silk washes over me like a black, soothing wave. There’s more promise and sensuality in an inch of this fabric than I’ve felt in a long time. It is not at all Audrey’s style—or size.

  I run my fingers through my brown mane to give it some volume and catch my reflection. It’s not bad. Not
bad at all.

  But I remember that I lost the pounds because of the heartbreak, and I still can’t come to terms with my new silhouette. I miss the round edges—and the happiness.

  “You ordered this for me, didn’t you?” I say to Audrey as I return to the bar.

  She bites her plump red lip. “It was an emergency-only backup.”

  I squeeze her shoulder. “You’re a great friend. It’s perfect.”

  A loud bang and a curse erupt from the employee’s entrance. Jill hurries to hold open the door, and Malcom Medina wheels in a huge crate. His muscles bunch under the grey St-Claire’s Brewery T-shirt he’s wearing.

  He stops by us on his way to the kitchen.

  “Hey, Mal.” I say.

  A thin film of sweat shines on his neck, and the familiar fresh pine and musk scent seeps into my nose. I pinch myself not to stare.

  “You.” He points to Audrey. “Call Mom back. I can’t keep her off your scent forever.” A smile breaks over his tanned, handsome face as he turns to me. “Wow. You look gorgeous, squirrel.”

  A furious flush runs up my chest. “Thanks.”

  He steals a handful of peanuts from the bowl under the bar and pops them in his mouth. “Where’s the groom-to-be?”

  “Where else?” Jill waves him off to the kitchen. She waits for the revolving doors to close behind him before elbowing my side. “Ask Mal to be your date.”

  My stomach squeezes. “He’s not interested in me. Besides, everyone would see right through it.”

  “Lee wouldn’t. You know how competitive him and Mal used to be,” Aud adds.

  Palms sweaty, I wrap my hands around a towel. “Mal will never see me as anything else than his sister’s annoying friend. He made this fact very clear in high school when he refused to kiss me during spin the bottle.”