A Risky Proposition, Book 1 of The Third Wish Duology. Dawn Addonizio
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1 – Careful What You Wish For
Chapter 2 – Contractual Obligations
Chapter 3 – Ironing Out the Details
Chapter 10 – The Price of Passion
Chapter 16 – Playing With Matches
Chapter 17 – Lessons Relearned
TITLES BY DAWN ADDONIZIO
Novels Of The Faerie Realm:
A RISKY PROPOSITION, Book 1 of
The Third Wish Duology
SOUL SEDUCTION, Book 2 of
The Third Wish Duology
PASSIONATE MAGIC
GREY’S MAGIC
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Published by Nouveau Ventures
3606 Woods Walk Blvd
Lake Worth, FL 33467
Edited by DM Eburn
A RISKY PROPOSITION
Book 1 of The Third Wish Duology
Copyright © 2012 by Dawn Addonizio
ISBN 978-0-9889992-0-6
All rights reserved.
First e-book release January 2012
For information contact:
Dawn Addonizio
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, locales and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination, or are used purely for fictitious purposes.
The Third Wish Duology is dedicated to:
Dr. Amy Kaufman – Who read it first as both a friend and an English professor, and kept me going with a priceless combination of encouragement and good feedback. I couldn’t have done it without you!
My Mom – Who has always encouraged me to think bigger and better and to believe that anything is possible.
My Husband – Who inspires my fantasies…and makes them come true.
Ann C. Crispin & the attendees of her 2008 Writers Workshop at Dragon*Con (which was Amy’s idea) – Thanks for the feedback & encouragement!
Much Love & Faerie Blessings Upon You All! -Dawn
Chapter 1 – Careful What You Wish For
“What the hell am I doing here? Ugh, I wish I was dead,” I muttered as I shoved the ladies’ room door open with more force than necessary. A dark-haired man at a nearby courtesy phone jerked his head in my direction. I looked down and quickened my step through the doorway, my pale cheeks heating in embarrassment.
I wasn’t usually prone to such outbursts, but I had just found out that my husband was cheating on me.
Jeremy and I had been married seven years and I’d thought everything was fine between us. We still talked…laughed…had semi-regular sex. Money was okay. We could have used a little extra, but who couldn’t?
And he had to go and screw it up by sleeping with some vapid little tramp that made eyes at him at the office.
I fought a fresh bout of angry tears as I stomped from the restroom and crossed the ritzy hotel lobby in search of the bar. My heels struck a sharp echo against the polished marble tile and I pushed my long brown hair past my shoulder, doing my best to ignore my discomfort over the near-indecent length of my cocktail dress.
Relief coursed through me as I escaped the naked space of the hotel foyer and made my way into an intimate corner lounge. I positioned my short skirt beneath me on the burgundy leather of a barstool and glanced up as the bartender approached from the dim wooden depths of his post.
He gave me a mocking look as I tugged at my hem. “What can I get for you this evening, madam?” he sniffed.
My expression hardened and I ordered a Grey Goose martini, foregoing a ‘please’ and my usual ready smile. I wasn’t in the mood for his attitude. So what if he worked for one of the most exclusive hotels in the country?
My lack of friendliness seemed to have the opposite effect on him. His frosty demeanor warmed as he handed me my drink, and he was downright solicitous as he offered me a choice of two crystal bowls filled with bar munchies. Sad that being rude actually makes some people treat you nicer.
I sighed and sipped the icy vodka, realizing that this encounter wasn’t helping my current, less than favorable, view of humanity. I managed to swallow without pulling a face, which would have ruined the sophisticated image I was attempting to cultivate.
No one here had to know that I was in a place I would normally never go, wearing a dress that was far more revealing than anything I would normally wear, drinking a drink I would normally never order.
I picked up the frilly pick with the olives and slid one free with my lips, chewing slowly as I glanced around the bar to give myself a break from the alcohol.
A couple sat in a booth off to one side. A generous sprinkle of salt and pepper dusted the man’s hair at his temples. The obviously younger woman had not an ounce of fat on her, with platinum blonde hair and a red dress that clung to her tanned, surgically enhanced curves like a second skin.
Blech. His wife of fifty years,