Little Red One

Felicity Randone is all kitten heels and perfect brows-
a mod-era nymphet with too many secrets tucked beneath her pastel smile, and a fans-only account that knows exactly how to tease and please.

But behind the camera, behind the clothes...
she's fragile in that dreamy 1960s way-a sugar-sweet mentally ill girl held together by stitches and sheer will, with a past so traumatic it still creeps up on her. Even if she thinks she is better.

Felicity just wants someone to love her properly.
To choose her.
To hold her without breaking her.

But girls stitched from longing and trauma
rarely get soft landings.

Not until he walks into the Moulin Mug.

Enter Alvarus Carmine.

Immortal. Castilian. A shapeshifting Prince of Darkness who loves theatrics almost as much as he loves control. Their hookup should've been a one-shot-but it spiraled into hours of depravity, all under a consensual agreement whispered over the phone.

Now he's fixated.
Fascinated by her trauma.
Addicted to her reactions.
Determined to break her open in ways that feel like blasphemy.

He pushes.
She folds.
He humiliates.
She begs for more.

Felicity knows he's dangerous.
She also knows danger is the first thing that's ever made her feel alive.

Little Red One

a dark horror-erotic novella from her POV where consent is negotiated, boundaries are tested, and pleasure is indistinguishable from possession