Darling Dancer Novels & Stories

“Oh, that’s sweet. I’m just a dancer.” Emily nodded, trying to keep her composure. But inside, her heart was unraveling. Because standing in front of her was the perfect match. Charles Adam—the global superstar. Nancy Davis—the world’s most celebrated ballerina. They weren’t just beautiful. They were legendary. Achievers not by inheritance, but by brilliance. They belonged to the same world. The same spotlight. The same rhythm. And she? She was just an average girl. Her life was like a cruel joke.

he introduced them, and they quickly got on the stage to deliver the most flawless performance the townsfolk expected. After the dance was over, the townsfolk cheered and clapped at them for a very entertaining show, when Palmer ordered her group to leave the stage for her to do her duet, now turned into a solo. She was supposed to dance with Christopher, but she was not so sure after what happened between them. The music played, giving her the go to begin her dance. Palmer moved her body to the rhythm of the slow, romantic song, and she couldn’t help but feel her eyes burn once again from the tears that were about to stream down her cheeks.

This time around, I was in search of someone, and I would search through the crowd till I found Darcy. The music was as loud as ever, and most dancers hit the dance floor in pairs. Some women eagerly accepted invites to dance with the men, while many others quickly surrendered their bodies to the mercy of the men. They all looked like Darcy. Why would she dress like all these hungry hyenas anyway? “Mmmhhh! What are you carrying, big guy. How about I give you the best blow job you’ll ever have? Come and take all this away, handsome.” A young lady who looked to be in her early twenties, did everything possible to grab my attention.

“The first woman to ever dance barefoot on stage was Seraphina Duncan—the mother of modern dance. That was over a hundred years ago.” “And in our time,” another added, voice trembling with awe, “only one dancer has ever dared…” “The Dance Enchantress. Ardelle Moon.” The name dropped like a spell across the room. Whispers rippled like wind through silk. That name was legend. A myth wrapped in velvet and shadow. She’d only ever appeared masked or veiled, her identity a mystery. Some claimed she danced at royal galas. Others swore they’d seen her once, only once, and never again.

But it seemed she didn't even have a brother called Drake. I bet the lady only knew about Drake's presence after she got to this house. I couldn't help but laugh. The lady invited us to sit, which we did. "I'm Celeste." She introduced herself. "I'm a professional dancer with the alias Dim Angel." My eyes widened. "Dim Angel? The winner of last year's national dance competition?" Celeste clapped her hands, admitting to her identity. "That's me." She said proudly. I felt the urge to roll my eyes.

It was the only life I had ever known. And honestly? I liked it. The Respect. The Control. The Unlimited wealth. And the ability to have any woman I wanted. “Draco, your dancer will be out shortly.” Dan’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. I nodded slightly. Moments later, the lights dimmed. A small smile formed on my face. My dancer had arrived. She walked into the room wearing the traditional red mask. My favourite. But something was different about her. She was slender. Petite.

Mark looked over at his friends, watching a dancer up on the main stage doing naked acrobatics with her thighs clasped around a steel pole, and smiling, he headed for the bathroom. Later that night, "Night, Tiger-Lily," Charity called back as she left the dressing room of the Derriere's Gentlemens Club, smiling as she always did when the dancers said goodnight to each other using their 'stripper names'. She walked past the bar, seeing her blonde haired room-mate, Anabeth waiting for her. "You ready to go?" Anabeth asked. "I'm beat." "Yeah. Busy night, huh?" Charity replied, opening the door. "Don't think I've ever done so many dances in one night. Goodnight, guys," She added to the security

However, with Arabella, he wanted to prolong the conversation. "I do not gamble. I am here for my job." "It's an incredible job, then," Damon's companion murmured, totally oblivious to the fact that the conversation did not concern her. In the center of it all, the dancers swayed sensually to the rhythm the music demanded. Their bodies wrapped in feathers, and nothing more, executed synchronized steps. It was beauty in motion, although people were more preoccupied with the games. The lighting also favored the sensuality of the moment; in shades of red and purple, depravity was something one could think about.

Also, I have noticed that he calls me Rhadaya now instead of Dahlia. Before my mind can travel elsewhere, a long troop of dancers enter the hall, all females and all dressed in half cut red blouses with black baggy-wrapped trousers and jiggling anklets. They begin dancing and I watch them, allowing their movements to distract me. This is my wedding afterall.

A sigh slipped out of her. She marched out of her chamber without another word, her shoulders and spine straight. The mask she always wore in her brother's presence was on. Her feet swallowed the distance to the ceremonial ground. The tempo of the music increased. It was mesmerizing. Her gaze soon found the group of seasoned dancers in the ring. The fire roared in the middle of the ground. These dancers were vampires, king's concubines trained to please him. Long and slender with delectable curves, they moved their bodies sensually in a way that'd arouse any male in the crowd. They moved around the fire, their jewelry glinted.