Glamour: Contemporary Fairytale Retellings

Edison lights, which were strung from the high ceilings, hung down to add a glow to the dusky space. The floors were reclaimed wood, and the walls were old brick. It all added a comforting charm to the modern furniture and decorations that gave the vibe this was the place everyone wanted to be.

That was the ambiance I wanted to achieve for the whole town. A slice of exactly what I wanted to accomplish here—a merging of old and new.

It was a shame so many people were afraid of change.

Small groups sat around high-topped round tables, and more crowded the marble-topped bar. Muted laughter tumbled down from the staircase that led to the second floor and mingled with the mild chatter that echoed on the walls of the bottom floor.

I headed directly for the bar at the back and slid onto a free stool. I raised a hand to grab the bartender’s attention.

He lifted his bearded chin at me. “What can I get you, man?”

I scanned the top shelf.

“Knob Creek. Neat.”

“You sound like a man who needs to unwind. Bad day?”

I rubbed at my chin. “Not bad at all, actually.”

He reached a tattooed arm to the top shelf. The guy had a tough, intimidating look about him, even though he was wearing a button-up with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, dress pants, and suspenders.

“Ah,” he said with a grin. “Now you sound like a man who’s ready to celebrate.”

He poured a tumbler a third full and slid it across the bar top toward me.

Clasping the glass, I tipped it toward him. “Soon, my friend, soon. Right now, I’m just prepping for the hunt.”

With a lift of his brow, he said, “A sportsman.”

There was no missing the sarcasm behind it.

A smirk pulled at the edge of my mouth. “I guess you could say I’m a sportsman of sorts.”

Amusement had him shaking his head, and he tapped the bar top with the knuckles of one hand. “Just let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do.”

He turned his attention to three women who’d sidled up to the bar, and I heaved a satisfied breath as I lifted the glass to my lips and took a sip. I was rolling it over my tongue, savoring the flavor, when a sound touched my ears.

It was laughter.

It was the kind of loud, messy laughter that typically would have annoyed the hell out of me. I had little patience for foolishness or nonsense.

Yet, there was something intriguing about it that snagged my attention, pulling at some place inside I didn’t wholly recognize. There was absolutely nothing I could do but swivel on my stool, needing to see exactly from where and from whom it was coming.

Propping my elbows on the bar with the glass still clutched in my hand, I let my gaze hunt the room.

Landing on its mark.

It took a whole lot to stop me in my tracks.

Even more to impress me.

It wasn’t that I was an asshole.

Okay, fine. Maybe it was exactly the fact that I was an asshole.

But I lived in New York City and had a place in Los Angeles. I traveled the world and wooed and entertained wherever I went. Half the time, women threw themselves at me in some kind of vain attempt to sweeten a deal.

Beautiful people were just a way of life.

So, how the fuck was it possible that the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen was sitting across the room?

Her face was some kind of mesmerizing masterpiece. High, defined cheeks that tapered down to a narrow jaw and chin, sharp and distinct.

Unforgettable.

But her lips. Fuck, those lips.

They were red and full and delicious, so goddamned appealing that I had the urge to walk across the room and demand a taste.

Her full attention was trained on the single woman sitting across from her, who was clearly goading her into debauchery.

The sex kitten of a woman pressed both her hands to the high-top table, as if she were searching for strength. Lush locks cascaded around her shoulders like a black river shimmering in the moonlight as she shook her head at whatever her friend had said.

My ear tuned in, keen and far too curious.

I didn’t have time for distractions.

But here I was.

Distracted.

“I have work to do tomorrow,” she said in a voice that struck me like a straight shot of lust. Low and deep and seductive. “You know I can’t afford to mess this up. There’s too much riding on it.”

The other woman, who had short, messy brown hair, nudged a shot glass her direction. “Do it. I told you tonight was about unwinding. I’m not letting you leave here until you’ve forgotten all about the bullshit you’re dealing with. Think of it this way…it will help you relax so you can get some good sleep tonight so you’re ready and raring to go tomorrow.”

A needy groan rumbled in my chest. I could think of a few better ways to leave her relaxed.

Satiated and satisfied.

All of them involved my tongue and my fingers and most definitely my cock.

The woman who was somehow making me lose a little bit of my head hesitated, working her lip with her teeth as she contemplated just how far she was going to allow herself to cut loose.

Then, as if she felt me staring at her, her gaze suddenly slanted my way.

I sucked in a stunned breath.

Vivid green eyes blinked back at me.

Emerald and ice.

Piercing.

Stunned.

As if she were just as affected by me.

Good God.

This woman.

I let my mouth tip up at the corner, relishing in the way those eyes went wide in surprise before they slid down my body. Just as quickly, she ducked her head and turned back to her friend, nodded, and tossed back the shot with a trembling hand.

Her pretty face pinched, that mouth puckering as she shook all over as she swallowed it.

I let loose a low chuckle, bringing my drink in for a sip as I pushed to my feet and headed in her direction.

I was a man who went after what I wanted.

And what I wanted right then was her. Even though she seemed resistant to look my way, I knew she felt it.

Knew she felt me.

That instinctual sixth sense that raised the hairs at the back of your neck and made your heart leap into action, thundering hard and low, your stomach quivering in awareness.

Run or freeze.

This girl?

She froze.

I came to a stop at the side of their table. “Is this seat taken?” I tossed out the most ridiculous cliché I could find as I gestured to the empty stool with my index finger of the hand still curled around my glass.

Another thing?

People loved clichés.

They really did.

It didn’t matter how much they rolled their eyes and complained about it. They still flocked toward them. You know, that whole people don’t like change mentality. It applied to all things.

The brown-haired pixie beamed up at me before she widened her eyes at the woman currently knotting my guts with a need unlike anything I’d felt in a long, long time.

“Why no,” the pixie said as she waved a hand at the stool. “It just so happens it is not. I guess I was saving it for you. I’m Nikki.”

I pulled out the stool and slipped onto the padded seat. “Ah, it seems a thank you is in order.”

She angled her head. “This is the South. We’re all about the hospitality.” Her eyes made a pass over me. “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

A.L. Jackson, Sophie Jordan, Aleatha Romig, Skye Warren, Lili St. Germain, Nora Flite, Sierra Simone, Nicola Rendell's books