Charming Red Novels & Stories

That faint whiff of citrus and lavender, mixed with bakery sugar and whatever lip gloss Charlotte had stolen from Sephora last week. “Guess who brought food for her favorite emotionally unavailable ink bitch,” Charlotte sing-songed, waltzing in like the damn sun in human form. I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my mouth. “Tell me it’s lemon-pepper wings.” “And Red Vines,” Charlotte grinned, lifting the brown bag and shaking it proudly. “Because I know you secretly love chewing on something that tastes like regret and cherry plastic.” I finally turned, pulling off my gloves with a dramatic sigh. “You’re lucky you’re hot.”

"Here, hold this," I was pushed into doing something I never thought I'd be doing ever since my existence was brought to Earth when my mother pushed me out of her vagina. A rose in hand, its petals birthed with the most attractive shade of red , redder than a blushing tomato, I stretched it over for Charli Dawson to behold. A look of disgust penetrated her brooding aura as she regarded me with a disdainful eye, deftly plucking it from my fingers' grasp with tentative fingers. Never in my seventeen years of life have I ever thought that I'd be buying anyone flowers. Especially Charlotte Dawson!

She chuckled before calling everyone inside the house. I watched as Charlie run inside the comfy looking house. "You're a fan of illegal underground fights?" Adam asked beside me. Facing him, I nodded. "For Reed Langston, aka LANGSTER then yes. But I prefer wrestling though." He raised an eye brow, "You've never heard of RED?" "I know the color." I rolled my eyes. He frowned, "No, I mean, the Red." The Red? Is he high? I shook my head no. He continued, "The Almighty Red? Hot Fire-y Red?"

Charlotte and I flipped through the fabrics on the table near the sewing machines. “It has to be a bright color, right? Something that says, I’m having fun,” I said. I picked up a bolt of red fabric. “What about this one?” Charlotte shook her head. “Red means danger. You’ll give someone an anxiety attack.” That… was a good point. Red was the color of blood and stop signs and red flags. I lowered the bolt of fabric. “Blue is more relaxing.” Charlotte held up a bolt with a pattern of deep blue flowers.

"Five and a half million kisses, a few De Santis cubs, and one sexy bite of your lip." "You will never pay me back in this lifetime," he declared confidently as he picked her up in his arms and walked through to the bedroom and tumbled her down on some really decadent-looking four-poster bed that knocked spots off the one in the Caribbean because of its heavy drapes in a dark red fabric and the matching cover that made her skin look so pearly white and clashed so alarmingly with her corkscrew hair. But Dami loved what he was seeing—Charley saw it blazing like golden fire in his eyes.

This was my favorite place in all of New York, not just because the booze was cheap, but they also serve the best chili in the world. I could easily spot Marissa’s flaming red hair right from the entrance. Her natural hair color was the palest of blonde’s and it tended to make her face look paler too, so she dies it a flaming red to look more vibrant and quite frankly, it matches her personality pretty well. “Sunny!” Mary waved me over as soon as she spotted me. She was sitting on a bar stool, next two a couple other guys who at first didn’t appear familiar until I got close to them.

Nancy gaped at her. "Where did you learn a shit like that from?" "Nancy, there is no need for a language like that," said Mr Smith. "Emma, why don't you cancel the date because you are crazy. Red enhances a women's beauty. Red is a popular lipstick too. Women wear red to look good, not to seduce men. You are going to wear that dress no matter what ." "No, I won't wear any dress you like. I am planning to wear my old dress on my most treasured black shoes. "

The little thing in front of him was attempting to seduce him but Radyn merely assumed that she was just happy to see him. She smoothed down bits of her red-coloured hair, trying to fix the waves, that would naturally fly out if it were not for the magic of hairspray, to make herself look more presentable. It would have been a lie to say that the late mornings did not do her justice as Scarlet looked more extravagant than ever. With her lacy, crimson nightgown hugging her comfortably and her ruby irises vibrant in the light, it made sense why she was called Scarlet. She had an alluring yet devilish charm to her that the Werewolf adored.

I hate the way my heart tries to crawl out of my throat whenever he’s near. Love, am I right? The world’s most beautiful, debilitating curse. Because Charlie? Charlie is a flirt. No, he’s THE Flirt. Capital F. It’s his native language. He charms the barista, the CEO, the old lady who lives down the hall. And with women he’s interested in? He’s a goddamn symphony of attention. He listens, he laughs, he makes them feel like the only person in the room. But it’s a firework. Bright, breathtaking, and over in a flash.

"Mr. Demetri, will you be willing to return to Savannah if we have further questions?" "If they can't be handled over the phone, I will. I do have a business to run." "Thank you for delaying your departure. We'll be in touch." I thanked Mr. Owen for coming to our aid again as we made our way into the large desk area of the station. Turning the corner, the vision across the room caused me to stop, mesmerized by the sight. Between Isaac and Jane sat the most beautiful redhead I'd ever seen. Her face was close to Jane's as they talked. With Charli's hair pulled back in a low ponytail her porcelain profile stood out, a stark contrast to the rich mahogany of Jane's. In that moment I understood wh