Knocking Boots Novels & Stories

Putting them on, I model in the mirror for myself and realize that something is missing. Placing my sapphire heart earrings in, I once again model in front of the mirror. Perfect. Satisfied with my appearance, I shut my closet and pull on my light brown leather fashion boots that I have picked out for the day. I always cringe a little when I start to walk in them, because they make this percussive sound on the wood floors that echoes throughout the whole house.

He peeked out from behind the opening of the barrel. Knock! Knock! Knock! There was a loud knock on the door. Bowen was silent while holding his breath. His face was agitated. His hand gripped his flagship blacksmith hammer tightly. KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! This time the knock on the door was louder. Bowen stood tensed at the door. His grip on his flagship blacksmith hammer was getting tighter. His eyes stared intently at the door in front of him, which was made of solid teak wood. He hoped the door was strong enough to hold back whoever was behind the door, the uninvited guest. He swallowed hard.

"As much as I hate to interrupt the show, boss, we have a tight schedule. I found some high-end, reinforced combat boots in the back section. Black leather, steel shanks, lightweight." ​He stepped directly into my line of sight, effectively blocking a portion of the mirror. He crouched down in front of me, his half-open jacket swinging forward to reveal the sharp lines of his chest and the dark ink tracing his collarbones. He picked up one of the heavy boots, holding it out toward my foot. ​"Let's see if we can get your sizing right, Feisty," Daniel murmured, his voice dropping into a quiet, unexpectedly smooth register as he took off the current boot I was wearing, his fingers brushing the

I turned around and scanned the shoes on the display, pointing at a pair in the middle, "Please get this pair, black, size 6.5." It was a pair of over-the-knee boots with a three-inch heel and lively fringe on the side. Her attention wasn't on these beautiful boots, but on me standing in front of her. I semi-elegantly crouched in front of her, took off her shoes, and slipped the boots from the attendant onto her feet. Even in such a humble act, I performed it so gracefully and naturally. In that moment, Natash Yael could almost hear her own heartbeat, irregularly thumping.

“Yes sir.” Lola went over to the dressing table to pick up her Converse. The boots were all of the same brand, color, and design. As their shoe sizes had been recorded before purchase, each boot had a name tag on it. Lola picked up the boot with “Lola” written on the tag and put it on. Suddenly she grunted loudly in pain and everyone looked over. She felt a piercing pain beneath her leg. She tried to take a step but the pain doubled instead. “Aargh!.”

Knee-length stripper boots. “Please. I would like to hear what you have to say.” I said pinning my hard gaze on Anna, and she stared around at Burkie who was suddenly having problems stepping out of the boots. The two of us shared a funny look before we all fell into a fit of laughter.

(you girls will know what I mean) I sat down on the chair and pulled on a pair of socks that Sarah selected for me. When I slipped my feet into the boots, they seemed to add twenty pounds to my weight. Sarah had called them safety boots and said the toe was re-enforced but not the old-fashioned steel toed boots of old. She told me they would protect my feet in case a horse stepped on me.

I watched the guy's every move. The way he shuffled his feet, his posture and even the way held his fists. The bell rang, and some music started blaring again. It was 'Awake by Godsmack'. He jumped for, and I ducked just in time for him to miss. I shot back up and remembered what Liam said. Kicking is my strong point. I can thank six years of soccer for that.

Is that what I’m seeing? I press my fingers to my temple, willing it all to stop. Mum holds up a pair of boots. “These are cute, right?” “Yeah. Super cute,” I nod and she gives me a knowing look. “Harper, you haven’t even looked at them.” I glance at the boots. They’re black leather with chunky heels and silver buckles. Definitely my style, or at least they used to be. But all I can focus on is the way the threads are tugging at my mind, each one demanding attention, each one louder and more insistent than the last.

He knelt in front of her like Prince Charming with a glass slipper, only the slipper was a heavy-duty, black tactical boot with aggressive tread. "Try this," he said, sliding it onto her foot. It felt heavy, but solid. Indestructible. "It feels like I could kick a door down," Leela said wiggling her toes. They bought the boots. Then the sneakers (two pairs, per Elana's orders). Then the house slippers.