Francesca Ellison is swept off to an A-list party in a concealing mask, a decadent costume, and sex-shop panties.
A naughty shortie
by Kris Pearson
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is co-incidental. (But the demolition party in Wellington really did happen.)
Copyright © 2013 by Kris Pearson
Cover photograph dreamstime.com
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.
Francesca scowled at her very Kiwi socks. All the rest of her reflection looked fantastic.
The long coal-black curls of her wig flowed out from under the exotic helmet with its feathery crest and half-face mask. The tightly laced violet velvet bodice’s plunging neckline revealed her breasts practically down to the nipples, and the gauzy lace encrusted skirt with layers and layers of crushed shot-gold petals brushed the floor behind her but showed plenty of thigh in front.