She walked into my home. I wasn’t certain whether I had invited her in or not. Instinctually I greeted her by reaching for her soaking wet coat and ...sked her if she would like to remover her stilettos, “for some snuggly slippers instead.”She did. She wanted to. As the gentleman that I was raised to be, I helped her remover her shoes. I slipped my hand onto her shoulder and with the other I gripped her arm and eased her back onto my plush Victorian couch.Oh my God. Her feet. As I slipped off one. In thattime, more than one hunter had tried to bring them down--and failed miserably.Their senses were preternaturally sharp, it was said, and they were at leastas fast as any other forest fays. Arrows had a way of swerving around them--orso it was rumored. But Catgirl just knew she was good enough. She would catchthem where all the others had failed. She would tug their pants down. She wouldturn their insolence to bitter tears . . . . She tripped on a root and hit the ground with a thump. As. More

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