Risky Boots Novels & Stories

Kian Gia borrowed a spare pair of jeans and a pair of Claw's stinking old boots to ride home in. The second we reached my apartment, her eyes scoured around the lively streets like she was anxious to be out in the open. The guys from the opposite apartment were burning a pile of mail and newspapers in an old rusty trash can. I curled my fingers back and forth, signaling her to take off the boots. She did as I instructed, and I hurled them into the flames, glad to be rid of them. For a shitty back street alley, the ground was clear of splintered glass and debris thanks to Gunner being such a neat freak. At least she wouldn't cut her feet on the asphalt.

I slow Marshmallow to a stop and climb down to the ground. The mud, still wet from the downpour that lasted most of the night, squishes below my cowgirl boots. The bad thing about these boots is that they have no tread and tend to be slippery. So I walk gingerly over to where the hat is floating around like a boat in the mud puddle. Langston’s steps suck into the mud as he comes up behind me. “You didn’t have to get down,” I say. “I’ve got it covered.”

"As I'll ever be." The town of Blackwood Falls was exactly what Leela expected: a charming mix of high-end boutiques for tourists and rugged outdoor outfitters for the locals. They hit the outdoor store first. Fennigan was on a mission. He marched her to the footwear section and started pulling boxes. "Waterproof," he muttered. "Reinforced toe. Good ankle support." 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.

Once it was on he felt something similar being slipped onto his left foot. The boy was finally allowed up off the enema rail and he was able to pull up his right leg enough to see what was on his feet. He was wearing very strange leather boots, but instead of soles like regular shoes, his boots had horseshoes under his toes. The inside of the boots were designed to force Cody to only walk and stand with his toes over the horse shoes, which was extremely uncomfortable and awkward.

My mom would ground me and give me a week-long lecture if she heard me. “Who goes out hiking in the wilds and mountain climbing for days on end after choosing this as appropriate footwear?” He scoffs at my knee-high laced-up boots that happen to be my favorites and gets himself a snort, crossed arms, and a glare as I turn my head away and huff at him openly. I guess he’s decided that picking on my boots is safer than daring to tell me off for my colorful vocabulary. “I'm sorry that I didn’t have the prior knowledge, leaving home in a worried rush, about what sort of footwear was acceptable for Lord Hex.”

Which perhaps would eventually turn me into a sort of international hoarder. " Look, Commander. I need those boots! " I exclaimed, picking up a pair of printed boots, which looked like one of those tacky Christmas sweaters. " Blair, these are the ugliest boots I've ever seen," he laughed, taking the shoes from my hand, "what do you want these for?” " These are ugly boots from Amsterdam," I returned, deciding to walk away as I noticed the frown on the sales girl's face in our direction. I pulled him over to the opposite stall, which sold costume jewelry, and began to pick out a few.

I turned my head, but before I could say anything, the door swung open. Brigitte walked in like an unstoppable storm. Her steps were unhurried, but there was something about her presence that made the room feel darker. Her long blonde hair was slightly messy, with bangs partially covering her face. Thick black eyeliner made her eyes look even sharper. Her pale lips curled into a lazy smirk, and her faded band tee hugged her frame, paired with a short skirt and fishnet stockings.

Three. The heavy thud of boots stops ten feet away. She was just here. A man says. His voice is deep. Gritty. Like gravel. I smell her. Another one replies. Rogue. Smells like old leaves and desperation. I bite my lip. I bite it until I taste blood. I do not move. I do not blink. A shadow passes over my hiding spot. I see the edge of a heavy black boot. These are not common guards. These are the Alpha’s personal hunters. The Red Fang elite.

We are on our way to the forest to get some woods for the fire pit that we planned to use tonight. He looked at me while wearing his boots. I had mine on, though I don’t know who the owner of these boots I wear. It’s for a female and I wondered if he often brings women in The Hill. “Do you trust me?” he smiled and I rolled my eyes from the way he smile playfully. “I’m not murdered yet, so yeah. But its not you that I fear,” he went back on putting his boots on, a wide grin in his mouth. “what if there’s some grizzly bear or if we got lost or we fell on a ravine or-”

I ask making myself noticed and scaring Sarah. “Hi Rayka, since we are going to a rodeo, we should go properly dressed, but we don't have that kind of clothes here, only you do.” Liz says. “Feel free to explore my closet, just don't take the brown mid-calf fringed boot, because I'm going to wear it.” “All right, that leaves us with how many to choose from? About 15?” Ness asked laughing Ness knows very well that I have a passion for boots, I would have many more, but I try to control myself.