Note: This is a contemporary retelling of Beauty and the Beast. It’s written for (my personal fangirling pleasure) grown-ups with a taste for (explicitly) sexy rom-coms, so expect HOT SEX, with some bordering on TABOO.
Like all my books, this story is absolutely ONE HUNDRED PERCENT ESCAPIST FICTION. Also, my heroes are unapologetic alphas while my heroines are unapologetically nice.
If none of that has scared you off (or has you blowing your top), then this book may offer you a little bit of fun, maybe even make you forget your problems for a precious while.
You have been duly warned!
Like all my books, this story is absolutely ONE HUNDRED PERCENT ESCAPIST FICTION. Also, my heroes are unapologetic alphas while my heroines are unapologetically nice.
If none of that has scared you off (or has you blowing your top), then this book may offer you a little bit of fun, maybe even make you forget your problems for a precious while.
You have been duly warned!
When Arabella finally turned to face the shadows, she heard her mysterious billionaire ask, “Qu’est-ce qui se passé, ma belle?” His soft, accented words tickled her ears, and despite herself, she could feel a smile starting to tug at the corner of her lips. Fortunately, she caught herself in time and instead managed to ask irritably, “You know I don’t speak French, so why do you keep using it with me?”
“Because I know you have a fetish for it,” the beast answered simply.
“I do not!” Actually, she did, but the bad thing about it was that she had never known she had one – until she had heard him speak French.
“Je pense que c’est l’accent,” the beast murmured.
Inside her shoes, Arabella’s toes curled hard. Shit!
“I think,” the beast translated, “it’s the accent.” He then switched back to English, saying, “It is very sexy, oui?”
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