Her crime? Knowing too much. An anonymous letter arrived addressed in her name with proof that her husband, Carlos, a state logging and mining mogul, had been the one responsible for her father’s death years earlier, killed for supporting the unions at a local logging camp.
When a terrible accident ends her husband’s plan to kill her, Jolee wakes up alone in a cabin in the middle of the woods, rescued by a masked man they call “the beast,” with a husband who wants her dead, and miles of state forest between her and civilization.
Warnings: This title contains erotic sex, graphic language and violence.
Word Count: 28,520
Claudia R., Manic Readers Reviews, 5/5 Stars!
"I fell in love with A Modern Wicked Fairy Tale: Beauty. When the happily ever after finally came I couldn’t have been more pleased... suspense, tragedy, sadness, love, and, of course, hot sex. I will definitely be re-reading this and can’t wait for more of this series from this very talented author. If you’re in the mood for a fairy tale with a twist, I would NOT pass this one up!"
Sheila, Two Lips Reviews, 4/5 Kisses!
"Ms. Kitt did a wonderful job… This version [of Beauty and the Beast] is beautifully told and pulled on my heartstrings. Silas and Jolee create a couple that you want to have a happily ever after."
That 70s Chick, BlackRaven's Reviews
"VERY hot...I found myself more intrigued by the way these two characters slowly grew to trust and eventually love one another more than by just their physical interactions... an enjoyable read that will not disappoint."
Jolee could never stay out of trouble for long and being locked in the trunk of Carl’s black BMW was no exception to that particular rule of her life. She’d given up trying to kick the side of the car to make noise—luxury car makers practically sound-proofed their trunks. Who knew? She wondered if engineers considered scenarios like this one—after all, any rich husband might have to enlist his hit men tie up and toss his troublesome wife into the trunk for easy disposal, right?
Besides, her feet were secured with zip ties, as were her hands, which stretched painfully behind her back. They didn’t use duct tape—too easy to wiggle out of—except for the pieces over her mouth. And even those weren’t just slapped on—they’d used the roll to wrap the silver stuff around and around her mouth and jaw in layers. Carl’s guys knew exactly what they were doing. Of course they did. It was their job.
There was just no way out of this bit of trouble. That realization finally hit her in the darkness, the car’s wheels crunching gravel for a long time now, off the highway she surmised, the suspension bouncing her violently up and down. This was going to be the last batch of trouble she ever got herself into in the whole expanse of a life that seemed suddenly very short.
She’d been so focused on escaping or finding a way out since Carl’s goons had grabbed her out back—zip-tied and duct taped before she could even raise the snow shovel she’d been using—that this final realization hit with such force Jolee actually wet herself, urine staining the crotch of her jeans with spreading navy blue darkness.
She was going to die.