By A. Faris
My idea of perfect shoes is Dorothy’s red glitter shoes tarted up with nine-inch stilettos, comfortable enough to go dancing all night in without giving me blisters and foot ache.
The first part is doable as I discovered in trying to satisfy my yearning. Apparently, I’m not alone in the desire for red glitter heels. But the second… almost as difficult as finding your own real-life typical alpha male romance novel hero. Or is it?
Delving into hearsay and personal experiences, a charge often leveled at romance novels is the unrealistic expectations they set women up for. ‘Don’t be too picky’, ‘there’s no perfect man [like in romances]’ and ‘Life’s not a fairy-tale [like romance novels]’ are bits of well-meaning advice offered by friends and family.
Let’s start with over six-feet. How many men do you know are over six feet? Me, personally, I know 2. Of say, 100 male acquaintances. That makes it a 2% chance.
Of those two, both are pretty fit. So, we are still at a 2% chance of meeting a fit, six-footer.
Then, we have nice/sympathetic/not a complete arse. All right, those two are rather nice blokes. We’re still at 2% to marry/settle down with a fit six-footer who is not a dick.
One I met when he was married (and not being a dick, was not interested in me). The other had made flirtatious remarks while single. Let’s count that as vague possible interest, never mind utter devotion/only have eyes for you, shall we?
So, we’ve gone down to 1% chance to getting a real-life typical alpha male romance novel hero.
Do women really stay single in hopes of that one in hundred chance? I think not; the world is still being populated, after all. For all that, enjoyable as it is to sigh over or dream about perfection, there is a last factor before the happily-ever after.
Love, which cannot be predicted, despite the ideal.
At the end of the shopping day, I fell for a pair of gold flat-soled sandals.
And that six-footer of mutual flirtage? I fell for a 5’6” softie instead whom I married and still love (in between arguments and ‘working things through’) after ten years.
An escape to another place and time with better plumbing and brasserie? Away from a dominance contest one helped start? Sounds like a bloody good idea.
Elizabeth Wentworth certainly thinks so when she goes on holiday to twenty-first century Madrid—in fact, it’s that very sort of thinking that leads her to sign up for 1NightStand’s matchmaking services. One night of pleasure, with no thought of duty, heartbreak or Pack law, just a pander to her desires.
But falling in love? Not an option.
Damien Chassange, carefree, unconventional, and Packless, is the perfect partner in her foray to self-indulgence.
If only he wasn’t her mate....