Once Upon a Fairy tale: A Collection of 11 Fairy Tale Inspired Romances
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Terak has fought all enemies to claim Larissa. It does not matter his own Clan looks upon the union with misgivings. It does not matter her family see a monster when they see him.
It does not matter, because Larissa is his.
And any who would try to take her away? They will see what a Gargoyle will do to protect his mate.
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About the Author
Born to the pothole-ridden streets of Pittsburgh, PA, Danielle Monsch started writing in a time long ago, a time when there were not enough vampire stories to read and she had to write her own to fill the void. Yes, such a time of darkness did indeed exist.
Danielle writes stories full of fantastical goodness and plenty of action, but always with lots of romance (and a bit of woo-hoo!) mixed in. Vampires and Werewolves and Demons and Angels, Sword & Sorcery, Fairy Tales, Updated Mythologies and the like – if it’s out of the ordinary, it’s fair game for her stories.
Go to www.DanielleMonsch.com for one-stop shopping with everything to do with Danielle – there you can join her Newsletter (highly encouraged as it contains all info about upcoming books, plus random surprises) or follow her on the other various and sundry Social Media sites – Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, Instagram, or Tumblr. Just want to send Danielle a quick email? Easy enough, that’s Dani@DanielleMonsch.com.
Love After Midnight
Dee Carney
Cinderella meets The Devil Wears Prada…
When Elle Flint meets her new step-mother supervisor, she realizes leaving behind the drudgery of being an unpaid intern at one of the hottest up and coming fashion design firms isn’t likely to happen. But this size sixteen working girl isn’t going to let anything stop her, even if it means shedding her sweet charm to become more like the mean girls around her.
One night at the company ball party, she falls in love like with the man of her dreams. In order to get closer to him, she’ll have to shed her hardened exterior and go back to being the woman she used to be. Although the two share a passionate evening together, at the stroke of midnight, he disappears before she can get his name.
She has one chance at finding him again, if the shoe clothing accessory fits. Even if she does, will he want her for more than the night they’d shared?
Chapter One
‡
Once upon a time, there was a girl named Elle…
Any minute now.
Any minute and the phone would ring and Elle would pause before picking up and Mary would call her into the conference room. After a well-rehearsed fifteen-minute presentation, Mary would smile her crooked, pleasant smile, and she’d nod. With that nod, a decision would be made. By the close of business, Elle would move from intern to apprentice. From there, after a year or two—five on the outside—she’d take on the fashion world.
She folded her hands, then propped her head on them before shaking loose the fantasy. In the broom closet-sized office she shared, it was possible her thoughts would pop into her friend’s head simply for lack of place to go. The monitor on the desk flickered, a reminder she should probably get some work done before the screen saver kicked in.
“Something’s up,” Renna said. Her hand swept over the drafting table, skimming the surface. In between her cleanup, she kept glancing at the door.
Elle stifled a grin. Of course something was up. Five months of fetching coffee, sweeping up fabric remnants, and messengering contracts were over. “Thirty minutes and counting,” she said, a glance at the clock to emphasize her meaning.
“No. I don’t mean—ow!” Renna jerked. A straight pin lodged itself in the fat part of her palm. Renna plucked it out. She ran a finger over the wound, frowning.
Elle winced in sympathy, but it wasn’t the first pinprick either had experienced and in this business, wouldn’t be the last for either of them. “Then what is it? Did you hear something juicy?”
“Suits are in, and people are keeping their heads down. Check it out.” Renna jerked her head toward the open door.
A longing glance to the silent phone yielded nothing, so Elle went. Although she scanned the long corridor for at least thirty seconds, the only sights that greeted her were of other people tucked inside their offices, hunched over computer keyboards. She and Renna were the only ones on this end sharing a space. The others were full-time employees, members of a club offering dental and 401K. On the flip side, it included the dubious honor of being parked inside a goldfish bowl-type office that allowed God and everyone to peer at their industriousness—or lack thereof—because of glass windows and doors. The same glass allowed Elle to study dress designs or fabric swatches, enhancing her own time at T. Holmes Design Firm.
On the outside, looking in.
She wanted this promotion so damned badly.
No, technically it wasn’t a promotion. It meant she could shortcut the intern program by six months and get started on her career that much sooner. A paid career. No more diet staples of ramen noodles and PB&J sandwiches.
Elle continued her perusal but couldn’t detect what Renna was going on about. Out of curiosity, she checked out Mary’s door only to find it closed. Probably because Mary was in the middle of an interview or about to make the call to Elle’s office…
Why didn’t the damned phone ring?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Elle said as she ducked back inside. Two steps carried her back to her seat at which point she glanced at the phone line, thought about checking it for a dial tone before sitting in front of her keyboard again.
Renna’s brown eyes narrowed. “Anyone in the hall?”
“No.” Huh. Now that she thought about it, why wasn’t anyone milling about?
“Notice if Jake was in Jamie’s office or vice versa?” The J-J couple had become practically attached at the hip after they’d turned months of flirting into an official thing.
“And the last check,” Renna said, “did you happen to notice if Paige’s shirt was buttoned all the way to the top or in its usual style?”
Elle jumped up and crossed the distance to the door. She sought out Paige, and sure enough, the buttery yellow blouse she wore practically choked her at the neck. Every other day, her shirt would be open almost down to her waist line. What was special about today?
“What do you think it is?” Elle asked. Perhaps there was something to Renna’s observations after all.
Elle startled when the door to Mary’s office was flung open, the knob crashing into the wall behind it. Mary stormed out, a box of papers and knickknacks juggled in her hands. A familiar cactus plant perched perilously at the top.
Elle’s heart seized. That plant had been a gift to Mary from her seven-year-old. There was no way she had packed it up unless…the unthinkable.
One of the directors, a woman whose name Elle couldn’t recall if paid, walked with a stony-faced resolve behind Mary. Following the two women, a tall man in a formfitting blazer and crisp lines in his khaki pants kept his attention on Mary and the path she stormed. Of the trio, only Mary met the eyes of the people beginning to peer out of doorways. She left behind a wake of fallen faces and wide-eyed stares.
After she approached the doorway where Elle stood, Mary slowed. Their supervisor’s eyes shimmered, the smile offered missing its usual sunshine and pleasantness. “You’re going to go far,” Mary whispered. “Keep your eye on the prize, and don’t change. No matter how hard you end up having to work, and if you ever feel like quitting, don’t. Your future is shiny bright, Elle.”
Elle grabbed her arm before she could move away. A flood of emotions and questions robbed her of momentary speech. “I don’t understand. What’s happening?”
“T. Holmes is making changes. Thomas has brought in a new management team, and my services are no longer required. Just do as you’re instructed, and you’ll be fine.” Mary’s announcement was loud enough for more than Elle to hear. An admonishment to the director and a warning
to everyone else.
“You can’t leave,” Elle said, her voice wavering. She didn’t want to see her friend leave and even more selfishly, Elle didn’t want to lose her best hope of a promotion.
The sadness surrounding Mary made it obvious the departure wasn’t a decision she wanted either.
“This can’t be happening. I won’t let it.” Elle looked into Mary’s eyes. “Don’t leave yet. Don’t let them take you anywhere until I’ve had a chance to talk to Thomas. This is a mistake. It has to be.”
Renna called out, “Elle…wait!”
The blood pounding in her ears as she rushed to the stairwell drowned whatever else Renna might have said, the fire coursing through her too impatient for an elevator.
How could they do this to Mary? She was smart and kind and talented. She’d started the internship program, making sure the graduates moved on to bigger and better things if they put in their due.
Thomas might not appreciate Elle pointing all of these things out to him, but it’s not like he could fire her. The very worst that would happen is she’d miss out on working for his firm, but she’d take that chance. Mary didn’t deserve this. She’d been employed there at least seven years. Most employees didn’t stay longer than a few, right? It had to mean something to Thomas. Had to.
She was breathing hard by the time she reached the fifth floor, but she didn’t let her pounding heart or swimming head slow her down. As she climbed the stairs, she sorted in her head the many ways to approach Thomas.
He had an open-door policy, one she’d never take advantage of before. Mary’s loyalty and uncanny ability to spot raw talent made her an indispensable asset. Thomas couldn’t have any idea this was happening. When he heard of it, he’d be just as outraged as Elle. How many of his employees had come up through the internship program? Without trying, she could tic off at least eight people on her fingers.
Gasping for breath, she opened the door. Instead of a long corridor of goldfish bowl offices, she took a step forward into utopia.
Plush carpeting cushioned her steps, miles of luxuriant nap stretching between her and the lone desk sitting at least half a mile away. The quiet hum of fingers on a keyboard drifted to her, the elegant woman at the computer studious at work. As Elle approached, she studied the woman. Blonde hair swept into a stylish bun, plump cheeks, graceful neck, double-stranded row of pearls. A blue-gray suit, starched into submission, matched the stone glinting off her ring.
If she noticed Elle studying her, she couldn’t tell. The woman continued to type uninterrupted as if Elle’s presence mattered little to her.
A foot away and Elle cleared her throat. “Excuse me,” she said softly.
The hum of typing stopped, the woman looking up with a mild expression on her face. It was neither pleasant nor unwelcoming, but what she would’ve expected out of in an animatron. “Hello, may I help you?”
“Is Thomas in?”
“Is Mr. Holmes expecting you?”
Oops. Faux pas number one. “No, but I was hoping to—”
“Your name please?”
“Elle Flint.”
The woman shifted slightly, typed something into a different machine, and then smiled broadly. “You may go in now.”
Just like that? Startled, not knowing what else to say, she did as bidden. The doorknob was cool beneath her palm, and when the door swung open, it did so without a sound.
More opulence, sleek lines of metal furnishings and crisp colors of vivid art made up the room. His style—masculine angles and functional beauty—was everywhere. In the corner stood the very first design draped over a plastic model, enclosed in a glass case. It had made him a multimillionaire by catching the attention of New York.
The man sitting at the largest desk she’d ever seen before in her life was familiar, his presence alone enough to remind her of a grandfather she never knew. Thomas Holmes. His salt-and-pepper beard drew a person’s attention; behind it, a friendly, weathered looking man with a dark brow and shrewd eyes. His hawk-like nose sharpened his face to almost unattractive. Something about those soft lips nestled in the beard smoothed the look, though. He ran a tight ship, but Elle had always found his policies fair.
“Mr. Holmes,” she said, walking briskly toward where he sat looking expectant. “You probably don’t remember me…”
“Of course I know who you are, Elle.” His smile warmed her. His words chipped away some of her anger. “Please call me Thomas.”
“Thomas, thank you,” she said. Her lungs struggled for air, and his name came out on a gulp. “I thought you should know about one of your employees. She’s being escorted out, and I didn’t know—”
“Mary.” A light went out in his eyes. “I’m truly saddened by her departure, but we’re having to make changes. Ones that will hopefully be better for the company.” A machine on his desk made a noise. He glanced at it but continued talking. “You’ll be the last intern we take on for a while. New staff is coming on board to make big changes to the company.”
The machine made another noise.
“In fact,” he continued, “your timing is perfect for meeting them now.” He typed something into the device and then peered past her.
Unable to help herself, Elle turned to follow his gaze. Through the opaque glass of his door, she spotted movement of a figure in black. The blurred outline came closer.
“Elle,” Thomas said, “I want you to meet Mary’s replacement—your new supervisor—and her two assistants.”
The door opened, and a small group entered. The first person, older by at least a generation and draped in a black pinstriped suit with Jacquard trim, frowned when she saw Elle. Or was that her imagination playing tricks on her? Surely, this woman who didn’t know her from Adam couldn’t be upset over something.
Before she could analyze it further, two additional women entered behind her. These two, a redhead with a round face and a fair-skinned brunette, somehow managed to mirror the older woman’s expression.
“This is Mrs. Tremaine, as she prefers to be called, and Ana Crow and Drusilla Edwards. Please meet Elle Flint, one of our interns. Elle, I would consider it a personal favor if you could take both Ana and Drusilla under your wing until they get settled. I realize you’re still fairly new, but I think that gives you a small advantage in helping them get used to the place. Right?”
“But…Mary…” Elle searched Thomas’s face, looking for some sign of sympathy or recognition of Mary’s plight. She’d come here to help out her friend, not end up as a tour guide for her replacements.
“Mary’s going to land on her feet.”
How could he make such a promise? “But—”
“I think Mr. Holmes was clear about his instruction,” Mrs. Tremaine said. Elle’s gaze shot to her, unable to believe she was interjecting herself into this conversation while the ink on her employment application probably hadn’t dried yet. “Ana, Drusilla, please follow Elise out so that Mr. Holmes and I can talk.”
“Elle,” she mumbled, cheeks flaming hot.
Mrs. Tremaine’s protégés snickered, the combined sound like the high-pitched whine of a mosquito in dark room. It was all she could do to back out, knowing they hovered behind her, just waiting to be swatted.
Okay, that was a little catty. It wasn’t their faults they came to T. Holmes at the most inopportune time.
By the time the elevator arrived, she promised herself to be friendly and helpful. She would trust Thomas. Send Mary an email after hours and check on her.
“That design you’re wearing. Is it your design?”
Friendly. “Yes, it is,” she said, a burst of proud putting a smile on her lips. Maybe Ana could become a friend.
“Thought so,” Drusilla said. Helpful. “I wouldn’t expect to see it elsewhere.”
Wait a minute…What exactly was that supposed to mean?
Elle whirled to face the two women, the elevator sliding closed behind them, making it feel as if they trio was behind locked into a very, ver
y small space together. She looked from one to the other, seeing nothing but flawless skin and porcelain smiles.
But Elle had a sinking feeling that beneath, therein lied trouble.
Chapter Two
‡
Elle had two wicked step supervisors and a wicked step director…
“Thank God you’re back,” Renna whispered. “They are in full-on bitch mode this morning.”
“Shh…” Elle rested the coffee cups in the recycled paper containers on the desk. She eyed the way whipped cream surged forward, threatening to burst free through the sippy hole at the top. The last thing she needed was to ruin the swatches with a drop of half caf soy salted caramel mocha, extra whip. There’d be no getting the stain out of vintage silk, handmade.
Elle lifted her feet out of the three-inch heels designed for walking the runway once and never being touched by a real woman with curves. “I need to take these in, but my feet are killing me.”
“Let them callouses work for you girl and get in there. Trust me.”
They’d become even faster friends since the “Tremaine twins” left the nest, flew right past Elle and Renna, and became supervising managers. Six months. Others who’d put in their time, served, and slaved for years and years were still hoping to have a new design spotlighted by one of the higher-ups. After a year, Elle was still fetching coffee, but at least now with a full benefits package. Might have made her a sellout, but no one foresaw the economy taking a nosedive the way it had. Everyone clung to the job they could get with the very edges of their fingernails, if that’s what it took. And with the Tremaine twins in charge? That’s what it took.
Elle curled her toes in, then stretched them out. Dread formed a hard knot in the middle of her stomach at the idea of putting her feet back into the fashionable, but medieval torture devices for shoes. “I think my callouses have blisters,” she grumbled.