A Modern Wicked Fairy Tale: Rapunzel
Modern Wicked Fairy Tales 1
excessica publishing
Rachel runs Rapunzel’s, a high-end salon on the lower level of a downtown Chicago high rise and lives happily in self-imposed exile in an apartment at the top of the tower—that is until Jake Malden walks in with his teen daughter, Emma, and presents Rachel with a dilemma. Young Emma is determined to defy her mother’s wishes and get her long, beautiful, untouched hair cut off so she can donate it to charity to honor a friend with cancer. Rachel’s decision to cut the girl’s hair starts a snowball of drama, turmoil and hidden secrets rolling downhill on a course with destiny that no one is able to stop, one that ultimately threatens not only Rachel’s livelihood, but her slowly melting heart as well.
A Modern Wicked Fairy Tale: Rapunzel
Modern Wicked Fairy Tales 1
excessica publishing
A. Ferguson, Romance & Erotica Books Examiner
"[A] modern look at the fairy tale that is both touching and sexy as hell... I became teary-eyed and even cheered a little (well in my head)... highly recommended"
Cheryl, Manic Readers Reviews, 4/5 Stars!
"[S]ome hot, steamy chemistry. At the same time though, it was not just sex but love. I know that when I read one of [Selena Kitt’s] books that I am going to enjoy it. Rapunzel: A Modern Wicked Fairy Tale is like a jalapeno...it’s hot and spicy!"
Amy H., The Romance Studio, 5/5 Hearts!
"I was so caught up in it that I both laughed and cried while reading this wonderful book. It had it all, adversity to overcome and an incredible happy ending, not to mention super hot sex scenes and really good writing...just an absolutely amazing story that I would tell anyone to read as soon as they finish this review."
More From Modern Wicked Fairy Tales
“You have really lovely hair.”
The comment made her breath catch and Rachel touched her wig, suddenly self-conscious.
“Thank you.”
She felt his hand moving, brushing the hair over her shoulder, and glanced at him. He wasn’t looking at her face. His gaze followed the line of her jaw, her throat. She knew it was an opening—she could have said something, told him about her illness, but she didn’t. What she really wanted to do was to erase the thought entirely from her mind and she could only think of one way to do it.
“Hey there…” He accepted the weight of her, surprised, when she turned and put her arms around his neck.
“Do you want to kiss me?” She could smell her own breath, thick with alcohol, her mouth so close to his. The liquor had given her courage, a boldness she didn’t normally possess, but it had opened up something else too, an empty space inside of her, a fierce hunger, a need demanding to be filled.
“Desperately,” he admitted. “Haven’t thought about anything else all night.”
She pressed her mouth to his, trying to recall…was this how you did it? It didn’t take long for her body to remember and Jake helped her along, his tongue parting her lips, exploring the soft recesses of her mouth, the taste of scotch and brandy together making her heady.
“I take that back,” Jake breathed as they parted, breathless. “A few other things have crossed my mind tonight.”
“Like what?” As if she didn’t know. She was turned toward him, stretched across the seat, half in his lap, and his cock was a hard bulge against her hip through his jeans. Her intended distraction had turned from boldness to lust in an instant.
“I’d rather show you.” His hand moved up under her shirt, touching bare skin at her waist. She felt like a teenager in the backseat of her date’s car.
“I think you should.” Was she really doing this? Oh god, yes, yes she was.
He groaned at her assent, his mouth capturing hers again, hand moving up higher to cup her breast through her bra. She had forgotten about their non-date status when she’d chosen her underwear—black silk bra and panties and lace-topped sheer black thigh highs. Now she’d forgotten any agreement or non-agreement between them altogether, letting him feel her up and returning the attention, her hand moving against the swollen crotch of his jeans, making him shift and press up against her effort.
“Oh Rachel,” he whispered her name, his hand moving through her hair, and she cringed, aware of how long it was, how it spread out over them like a curtain, too much of it, as if it had a life of its own, eager to give away her secret.
She moved away from his hands, finding herself sliding to the floor of the limo between his thighs.
His eyes lit up as she knelt and peeled her jersey off, revealing the black bra underneath.
