Cover reveal: Two Left Feet

In honor of my birthday today, here's the cover for the new e-book I'm going to release this summer, "Two Left Feet." It's a twist on "The Twelve Dancing Princesses," except our poor heroine can't actually dance at all (and get dragged along by her sisters anyway). Still, she's a clever girl, and manages to find plenty to do anyway.

Barring some sort of hilarious cosmic disaster, I plan on having it available on a variety of different platforms by Aug. 1.

Teaser: "Two Left Feet."

Because you guys should get something new even though my publisher and IPG can't figure out how to get a freaking book out on time, here's a teaser for the new short-story e-book I'll be releasing this summer, "Two Left Feet."

000

Everyone wants their life to be a fairy tale, right?

"So sorry, Princess Thea. I would love to dance with you, but I'm afraid I've developed a terrible cramp in my foot."

"My apologies as well, Princess Thea. Touch of food poisoning. I'd hate to vomit all over that lovely gown you're wearing."

"I'll be honest, Princess Thea. My doctor has forbidden me from dancing with you until my feet heal."

Well, make sure you're the one who gets to decide what fairy tale it is.

Thea waved away the noblemen who'd made their apologies – she hadn't even asked to dance with them, which meant that the mere sight of her now panicked them into immediate denials – and immediately took off her heels. Then, with a wave to let her oldest sister know where she was going, Thea headed to one of the benches positioned around the edge of the dance floor.

 Dropping down onto it, she sighed as she took a look at the party that was happening all around her. The ballroom seemed to be immense, ringed with white pillars that offered glimpses of a gleaming metallic forest that was either just an illusion or housed enough magical creatures to potentially kill anyone who wandered inside. Floating chandeliers illuminated the room, a trick that had awed her the first few times she'd seen it but now just seemed to blend into the scenery. They hadn't changed the decorations at all in the three weeks she and her sisters had been coming to these things, and once she'd looked up the spell that kept them aloft she'd lost all interest in them.

Not that anyone else here seemed to care. All 11 of her sisters were out there somewhere, lost in a crowd of other hopeful princes, princesses and other random nobles who'd all received the same magical invitations to this nightly party. Thea had put in an official protest when the glittering card had first been delivered – it seemed like a ready-made kidnapping plan, and even though their kingdom was small they did have some value has hostages. But she'd been outvoted, and her requests that she be allowed to stay behind were similarly ignored.

Which left her here, either injuring random nobility with her terrible dancing skills or sitting on a bench doing her best impression of a wallflower.

"Your highness." The server appeared out of nowhere, his pointed ears standing out sharply against the waterfall of inky black hair. Balanced on one hand were a tray of glasses, all full of a silvery liquid that sparkled like diamonds. "Would you care for a drink?"

Thea gave him a polite smile, pulling out her pocket magic mirror and opening it to a novel she'd been reading. "Thank you, but no." She'd read enough stories about eating and drinking in the fairy realm not to want to risk it. Her sisters were all present and accounted for every time they went home in the morning, and Thea assumed that meant they hadn't tried it, either. "I won't need anything the rest of the evening."

The elf stayed hovering nearby, the fixed politeness of his expression taking on a pained edge. "You appear as if you're settling in for the night." His eyes flicked back to the crowd. "Does the dancing not please you?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. Thea understood needing to be solicitous of the clientele, but she was a 23-year-old wearing a gown that was at least two years out of fashion because it was infinitely more comfortable than what everyone else was wearing. Her frizz-prone, mud-brown hair should have been styled or at least put in a bun, but she hadn't wanted to deal with it tonight. "Actually, I'm just trying not to injure any more of the men here." This time, her smile wasn't quite so polite. "Next time you send out magical invitations, make sure that everyone who receives one knows how to dance."

"Fairy Godmothers, Inc." audio book?

Now that the "Beast Charming" audio book has been out for  a bit, I was wondering what interest levels would be in a "Fairy Godmothers, Inc." audio book. It would follow the same format, and ideally would have the same narrator as "Beast Charming" (I'd have to get her to agree, of course). Sadly, "Dreamless" probably won't get an audiobook - I don't wholly own the rights to it - so "Fairy Godmothers, Inc." would be the last one. Any thoughts? 

Cover reveal: "Dreamless"

So, apparently luck doesn't hold forever when it comes to covers.

This is the cover of my new book, "Dreamless," which is set in the same universe as "Fairy Godmothers, Inc." and "Beast Charming." As you might guess from the unconscious woman, this time I'm playing with "Sleeping Beauty."

This is definitely my least favorite cover, not because it's not cute but because it looks like it's advertising the kind of romantic comedy that would have starred Meg Ryan had it been released in the mid-90s. As those who have read my previous books, know, my romantic comedies are both darker and distinctly quirkier than that, so I'd like to apologize in advance for anyone who considers this false advertising.

What do you folks think?

(I'm still looking for original art I can use for advertising, by the way. Anything you'd be interested in sending would be incredibly welcome and fully credited to you.)

More about the book:

Sleeping Beauty never had troubles like this

For most princesses, a sleeping curse means a few inconvenient weeks unconscious followed by a happily-ever-after with their true love. Seventeen-year-old Elena's curse, however, was designed without a cure, which means that she's getting a century-long nap for her 18th birthday whether she wants it or not. After years of study she's still no closer to finding a cure, even with the help of an undead godfather and an enchanted mirror-turned-therapist. With only a year until the deadline she's learned to accept her fate. 

Sadly, there's one prince who doesn't seem to have gotten the memo and who’s continually trying to activate the curse so he can be the one to wake her up again. Only slightly less annoying is Cam, her new bodyguard and former childhood acquaintance who disagrees with Elena at pretty much every turn. When the curse threatens to come early, however, they both realize that fate is a lot more complicated than they'd ever imagined. 

"Dreamless" is set to be released March 15. Find it on Amazon.com.

"Dreamless":calling all fan artists!!!

My new novel, "Dreamless," will be out next February, but it's currently without a final cover (the one currently attached to the book on Amazon.com is definitely not it). Sadly, I can't make the decision on what the final cover will be, but I can ask any lovely fan artists who are out there if they would be willing to dip into their creative stores and whip me up the cover of my dreams.

For inspiration, this is the back cover text for the book:

For most princesses, a sleeping curse means a few inconvenient weeks unconscious followed by a happily-ever-after with their true love. Seventeen-year-old Elena's curse, however, was designed without a cure, which means that she's getting a century-long nap for her 18th birthday whether she wants it or not. After years of study she's still no closer to finding a cure, even with the help of an undead godfather and an enchanted mirror-turned-therapist. 

With only a year until the deadline she's learned to accept her fate. Sadly, there's one prince who doesn't seem to have gotten the memo and who’s continually trying to activate the curse so he can be the one to wake her up again. Only slightly less annoying is Cam, her new bodyguard and former childhood acquaintance who disagrees with Elena at pretty much every turn. When the curse threatens to come early, however, stealing her consciousness at random moments, they both realize that fate is a lot more complicated than they'd ever imagined.

And this is the link to the draft version of chapter one I posted here all the way back in 2013:

http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com/2013/11/sneak-peek-exclusive-look-at-dreamless.html

Since this won't be the final cover, the covers will be in the category of fan images and therefore open to interpretation. I'm open to all kinds of art, from drawing to photo manips. The winner will be used in my marketing for the book (fully credited), and will receive a "Dreamless" eARC the moment I get my hands on them. 

Disney, "Man from U.N.C.L.E." and adding your own twist to the story

Photo courtesy of Disney

“That’s not how I would do it.”

How many times has that thought crossed your mind? Whether it’s a movie you watched, a meal you ate, or a work project you’re involved in, we’ve all come across things we would have done differently if we were the ones in charge. No one’s tastes are the same, and it’s part of human nature to want things to match our own tastes instead of someone else’s.

But what if you actually got the chance to redo whatever it was? It’s rare that we get the opportunity to remake something according to our exact specifications, and even if we did we’d risk the same scrutiny we gave the original whatever it was. There’s also all the work it would take to create a new version of something that’s already been made. Would it be worth it, just to be able to experience a version that’s absolutely perfect for you?

Answering that question has made me take remakes a lot more seriously.

Because yes, there’s a certain element of marketing and cash grab when it comes to latching a movie to an already established property, but money is the ultimate goal of everything Hollywood does. There are also remakes that are flat-out terrible – the shot-for-shot remake of “Psycho” is one of the better-known examples – and ones that have hit their remake limit. (Please, Hollywood, give us like 15 years before the next “Spider-Man.” We need a break.)

But you know who else does a lot of remakes? Disney. The majority of their best-known movies, from “101 Dalmatians” to “The Little Mermaid” are simply their versions of stories someone else has already done. They just made their own tweaks – changing a depressing ending here, enriching an emotional relationship there – until they had a version of the story they liked. Even “The Lion King,” one of the most successful Disney movies ever, is just “Hamlet” re-told with talking lions instead of people. Speaking of “Hamlet,” even Shakespeare’s stories were mostly just revisions of stories that had already been written.

I’m not saying that the remakes Hollywood has given us in the last 10 years are anywhere near the level of Shakespeare or even classic Disney. But that doesn’t mean that the creators didn’t have a legitimate vision of their own for the material. When Guy Ritchie brought “The Man From U.N.C.L.E.” to the screen, he shifted the focus from the spy hijinks to the banter and growing bond between the main characters. That was the part he was interested in, and didn’t feel the original had enough.

“The Transporter: Refueled” seems at first like a knockoff of every European action movie ever made, but the fact that the hero is trying to save his father is actually quite a twist for the genre. Historically, it’s the token female who gets to have a father involved in the movie, usually as a powerful figure that the daughter is being used as a pawn against.  The hero is usually involved to protect the helpless female, and if there’s no sex scene there will be at least one heated look.

But getting the hero involved because of his own family? Someone who isn’t female, or in a traditionally “protected” category such as a younger sibling, romantic partner or child? Having the emotional motivation not be romantic or sexual in the slightest? I don’t know if the movie will be any good – it’s not being screened for critics – but that’s still the kind of remake I can respect. 

New Short Story: Dressed to Impress (AKA The Elves Are Coming)

www.aradanicostumes.com/elf_ears

The elves were coming.

Morena Montclair, whose husband had made his money in the magic mirror business, was in an absolute tizzy. No one in the neighborhood had hosted elves before, and if she pulled it off it would be a social triumph that would far surpass the fact that Gertrude's second cousin was a Baron.

She absolutely had to dazzle them. Morena spent a solid month getting ready, decimating the local potted tree supply in an attempt to recreate a forest in her dining room. She insisted that the cooks use only elven recipes, tasting and retasting them until they were as delicate and ethereal as she had always imagined elven food to be.

It was her outfit, however, that took most of her time and attention. It had to be perfect, elegant and magnificent all in the same breath, so these elves would know that she'd been born human only by accident. She was worthy to be one of them, and would be an excellent addition if someone happened to invite her to an elven party or two.

(She would also be an excellent addition if one of them happened to be looking for a wife. Leonard was perfectly pleasant, but also the sort of man one didn't hesitate to leave for brighter horizons.)

By the day of the dinner, she was resplendent. Her sleeves belled out four full feet, the leaf-green silk trailing on the ground behind her. She piled her hair on top of her head and wove small branches into it, though the bird was nixed after an incident that forced a thorough hair-washing and restyling. Elves didn't seem to wear a lot of jewelry, tragically, but she'd purchased two different sets of emerald combs to wear in her hair.

When they came, gliding in through the front doors like they were walking on air, Morena bowed so low she needed a maid's help to right herself again. "Honored guests, welcome to my humble abode."

When she looked up, the lead elf's expression was as placid as his waterfall of golden hair. Perhaps they simply hid their admiration better than humans did. "Thank you. Your husband said the meal would start soon?"

That was the most she could get any of the elves to speak to her, even after they sat down and started eating. Morena tried to engage them in conversation, asking them about the length of their sleeves and whether it was fashionable to wear small pumpkins in the fall, but they only gave her the briefest of answers before returning to some sort of business discussion with her husband. 

Finally, in the middle of the dessert course, one of the lesser elves turned to her. "I must ask - what is that fascinating accessory?"

Morena brightened. It wasn't the attention she'd hoped for, but she'd take what she could get. "Do you mean my headpiece?"

He shook his head. "No, the overrobes your staff wear." He gestured to one of the serving girls. "Those pockets would be most useful."

"'Overrobes?'" Morena stared at the serving girl, confused, then her eyes widened in horror. "You mean her apron?"

"Apron." The elf said the word slowly, as if committing it to memory, then nodded in satisfaction. "Most excellent. I shall have to see about acquiring one."

Immediately after dinner, Morena demanded one of the maids' aprons and put it on. No one commented on it. The following spring, aprons became a common fashion accessory for the more practical-minded elves.

When she heard the news, Morena refused to leave the house for a week. 

New Short Story: Sleeping Potion

www.carnivalheaven.com

Rita didn’t understand why anyone bothered to wear hooded cloaks to hide their appearance. In the middle of a perfectly nice day like this, having your hood up pretty much shouted “I am up to something nefarious!”

She refrained from actually saying any of this, however, as the customer slipped into the shop and threw back the hood of her cloak. Once the young woman made eye contact, she practically raced to the counter. “I need a sleeping potion. I’ll pay anything!”

Rita gave the woman an evaluating look. “I take it you’re not talking about an insomnia cure.”

“That’s not enough.” The young woman laid her hands flat on the counter as she leaned forward, desperation in her eyes. “Anything less than six months won’t be enough. I’ll take a year if you have it.”

“I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place.” Rita kept her voice even as she reached under the counter, wrapping her hand around the wand she kept on hand for emergencies. The young woman looked harmless, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. “I sell healing potions, stuff to help you around the house. You’ll want to go to a licensed Evil Witch for the potion you’re looking for.”

The customer’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t trust them! And if I go home….” She pressed a hand against her mouth, fighting back tears. “I won’t survive.”

Rita hesitated. She wasn’t interested in breaking the law, but if the girl was using it in self-defense…. “Your father? Or your husband?”

She waved a hand. “Oh, he’ll be fine. He just loves her, and thinks it’s all a big misunderstanding.” She wiped her eyes. “Of course, he’ll be horrified that I was arrested for homicide, but I’m sure she’ll keep him busy telling him how right she’s been this whole time….”

Now Rita was lost. “Wait.” She held up her other hand to stop the ramble. “Who are you talking about?”

The young woman clunked her forehead on the counter. “My mother-in-law. Her house got destroyed in an ogre attack and she’s moving in with us.”

Rita turned the startled chuckle into a cough. “And you think dosing her will keep her out of your hair for awhile?”

The young woman’s head shot up. “No!” she said, horrified. “That would be rude.”

Rita let go of her wand. “Then who were you planning on using it on?”

The young woman’s shoulders sagged, and she dropped her head into her hands. “Me.”

This time, Rita couldn’t stop the chuckle. “I’ll see what I can do.”

"Beast Charming" alternate scenes: A Sinking Sensation

This is an unused back story for James, aka Beast, from a much, much earlier draft of  "Beast Charming" (so no real spoilers if you haven't read the book). For me, the most hilarious thing about this is that there was once an entire version of the novel written in first person.

Chapter 2
A Sinking Sensation (Beast)

Looking back, it was not one of my more intelligent moments.

The entire fiasco was not, however, entirely my fault. Iliana looked at first glance exactly like every other predatory young thing that always crowded balls like this, giggling and fluttering her eyelashes at each and every available lordling in the immediate vicinity. If that weren’t enough of a cheat, her ice-blond hair had been piled on her head in a complicated style that all-too-conveniently hid the pointed tips of her ears from the unsuspecting.

I, naturally, had retreated to the library, drink in hand and a large chair blocking the only entrance. Just because Waverly insisted that it was part of my duty to hold a ball once a year didn’t mean that I actually had to attend the thing – as long as I let them use the space and paid for the hors devours, I considered my part in the festivities amply fulfilled.

Also, I was hiding. The fairy godmothers had published a list the year before rating the eligible noble males in the kingdom, and to my horror I had several gold wands beside my name – a title slightly more impressive than most of the young men within reach, a respectable amount of money to back that title and, thanks to a nasty curtain accident several years previous, no annoying father to stand in my way. Together, they added up to a picture that was irresistibly and unfortunately attractive to several members of the opposite sex, and they along with their mothers declared me the top target on their list of suitable prey

Sadly, the additional point that I was also a moody, sarcastic little snot did little to significantly change my standing, no matter how often I tried to advertise this particular aspect of my personality. Though I had managed to scare off one or two women, most didn’t have enough idea of what I was talking about to be offended. Hence the library, and the thick, heavy wooden doors ready to stand guard between me and massed femininity outside.

Unfortunately, my butler refused to see the genius of my plan. When the door creaked open, I set down my glass and picked up the heaviest book within reach, but it was only Waverly ready with another drink and a disapproving expression. “Can I get you anything, sir?” he asked in a faintly pained voice. “Perhaps some hermit rags and a long white beard?”

“Go show the guests how hilarious you are,” I hissed, taking the drink out of his hand and making shooing motions with the other. “And leave me alone until the uninvited guests are gone. Who knows who could have followed you?”

Waverly rolled his eyes. “Heaven forbid you should actually have to speak to someone, sir. Who knows what tragedy could strike.” Still, he closed the door, and with a deep sense of satisfaction I locked it behind him.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to stop it from opening again a few minutes later. “Waverly, I told you ….”

“You could tell me more.” I swore at the distinctly feminine voice, and cringed at the pale, delicate looking creature that swept into the room and shut the door behind her. “I have been looking for you the entire evening, my lord. I’ve heard so many lovely things about you.”

My eyes narrowed at her. “That door was locked. How in Grimm’s name did you get in here?”
She lifted an elegant shoulder. “Magic, my lord. What else?”

Okay, maybe that should have been a clue. Still, as warning signs went it was unfortunately small – anyone could bribe a fairy godmother and get the same effect. “Fine” I growled, returning to my book.  “Now use it to leave again.”

She frowned at me for a long moment, then smiled the smile of a person who has just completely dismissed the last few minutes of conversation because there’s no way they could have conceivably happened. “What a sense of humor you have.” She swept forward, hunting for a seat close to mine. “If you could only dress a little more appropriately I’m sure we could work wonderfully together ….”

I stood up, stopping to grab a dictionary as I approached her. “Let me be more specific,” I cut her off, glaring at her. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to look at you.” As her eyes began to widen, I lifted the book in a menacing manner. “And the mere thought of ‘working wonderfully’ with you makes me want to break out in hives. Leave now, before something unfortunate has to happen.”

”But …” Her breath hitched, and she splayed a delicate hand across heaving bosoms. “You don’t want to hear about my ….”

“The only thing I want to hear from you,” I snapped. “Is the sound of the door smacking you as you leave.”

I could see the tears start to glisten at the corner of her huge violet eyes, usually the sign that they were about to scurry away in defeat. I set the book down, but barely had time to take a step back before a wand was suddenly pointed at me. Then everything went black.

And, as I realized when I could open my eyes again, furry.

Deleted Scenes: Beast Charming, part 1

This is the prologue for a slightly earlier version of "Beast Charming" that didn't make it into the final cut. While this means that some of the plot details listed here means that it no longer fits neatly onto the version of the novel you guys will be getting – at least one character has disappeared entirely, just as an example – it's a nice little introduction to the situation and some of the key supporting characters who did stick around.

000

Prologue: Door-to-Door Curse Correction

 “…and I’ve been told he’s a wonderful listener. It’s true that he doesn’t exactly have ears, but he’s an enchanted washboard – I’m sure they’ve made some other arrangements. A couple months of quiet company and poof, you’ve got yourself a prince – the happily ever after’s practically guaranteed ….”

 “Father.” Grace was surprised at how calm her voice sounded. “Let’s pretend I’m Beauty for a second.”

Startled, Noble froze in place, forcing the crowd flowing down the street to part around his bulk. “You’re my good daughter. Why in the world would I want to imagine you changing into your horrible little sister?”

Grace leaned forward as she jabbed a finger into his chest. “Because then I would be the type of person who would tell you that if you don’t stop talking this instant, I’m going to knock you unconscious with this zucchini and leave you here to be stepped on.”

Noble blinked, then glanced furtively up and down the street in case anyone suddenly seemed a little too excited to help Grace follow through with the “stepping on” part of Grace’s plan. When no one came forward, he glared at his daughter. “Wouldn’t you say that was just a little more dramatic than the situation called for?”

Grace narrowed her eyes. “You want me to start dating an enchanted washboard. I don’t think you’re in any condition to be swayed by subtle suggestion.”

The empty space around them widened by a few inches, the need for the surrounding people to shave a few seconds off their travel time momentarily subsumed by the much more pressing need not to get caught in the middle of an Embarrassing Family Moment.

“I offer you the future and you sound as if I’m making you scrub the kitchen. Why have I been cursed with daughters who have such narrow minds?” Noble’s sigh was long and loud in the hopes that random passersby might take pity on him. “You all must have gotten that particular deficit from your mother, God rest her ….”

“Don’t even start with that.” Grace started shaking her head before he could even finish the sentence. “You know as well as I do that she’s not dead. She ran off with that merchant from Elvinton when Beauty was five and none of us have seen her since.”

“Which means that she could very well be dead by now,” he huffed, brown eyes not quite capable of meeting his daughter’s grey ones. “But that’s completely beside the point. The enchanted washboard’s the best potential fairy tale I’ve been able to find yet. There’s hardly any effort required on your part, and the prince won’t even get the chance to be … to meet you until you’ve already won his heart by saving him.” He leaned in close, wrapping a conspiratorial arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “It’s practically a sure thing – two weeks, at most, until you get your very own happily ever after and I get a wealthy and grateful son-in-law.”

Grace shoved Noble’s arm off her shoulder, whirling back around to face her father. “That, in case you’ve forgotten, is exactly what you said when you kept dumping frogs into our beds every night on the off chance that one of them might turn into a duke. And when you knocked Patience unconscious and spread the word that she was a long-lost princess caught in an enchanted sleep. Not to mention that time with the geese ….”

Noble folded his arms across his stocky chest, lower lip jutting out slightly in what he would never admit was an angry pout. “Your great-aunt Caroline locked herself in a tower for a measly six or so years and she managed to snag herself a baron.”

Grace groaned and rolled her eyes, then recited the same response she’d been making to that line since she was 15 years old. “It was actually the third son of a baron, Father, and the family was so poor that Great Uncle Nigel had to hire himself out as a castle maintenance man. He met Caroline when he was fixing a leak in the tower roof and just never got around to leaving.”

 “A minor detail.” Noble waved his hand casually, brushing away that inconvenient little thing called reality. “No matter what he was doing up there, your great-aunt certainly never would have met her future husband and stopped being such a burden to her parents if she hadn’t been up in the tower in the first place. Besides,” He sucked in his stomach, the mass of it lifting his chest a good three or so inches. “Her father didn’t have my vision.”

Grace raised an eyebrow. “Have we forgotten about the frogs already?”

Now Noble’s chin lifted. “Failure,” he said with utmost conviction. “Is just another step on the pathway to success.” Then he drooped slightly, adding with a mutter, “Though with you girls, it’s gotten to be an incredibly long pathway.”

Grace sighed, feeling it all the way down to the base of her spine. “You could just leave us alone, you know.”  She lifted a hand to rub the back of her neck. “It’s about the only crazy thought you haven’t tried yet.”

Noble made a disgusted noise. “But I have tried it, and look where it’s gotten us. The men from the village make the sign of the cross when they see Patience coming. Your little sister Beauty isn’t quite such a terror, but she’s still stubborn, smart-mouthed and thornier than your mother’s old rosebushes. You’re the only one who has any sort of chance of attracting a man on her own, but you’ve been so busy taking care of Beauty that it hasn’t occurred to you to start looking.” He shook his head. “Finding you girls fairy tales is about the last chance I have to stay sane.”

Completely unable to think of an argument her father would actually understand, Grace gave up and simply glared at him again. “You still haven’t told me how you decided I was destined to be the washboard’s dream girl.”

Noble raised an eyebrow, mocking Grace’s earlier gesture. “Have you actually listened to your sisters recently?”

Grace folded her arms, deliberately keeping her expression even. “Weren’t you the one that said the main advantage of this particular fairy tale is that the poor washboard wouldn’t get the chance to see or hear his future beloved until it was too late for him to do anything about it?”

Noble opened his mouth, then snapped it closed when he realized that she might have a point. His chin lifted again. “Maybe I was trying to reward you for making my life just a little less miserable than your sisters insist on doing.”

Grace remained unmoved. “You only think that because I’m willing to do the family mending.”
 “True.” A wistful look came into Noble’s eyes. “If we could only get you to start doing some embroidery, needlepoint even, I could pass you off in just about any castle there is ….”

Before Grace could respond someone with an overly large basket knocked against her, causing her to stumble backwards and nearly fall. Catching her father’s arm for balance whether he liked it or not, she straightened with an annoyed sigh. “And then there’s always the chance I could trip and smash the prince into a thousand pieces,” she added sarcastically, brushing away a lock of sand-brown hair that had fallen out of her bun before turning to face the rest of her father’s argument.

But he just stood there frozen, eyes wide like Grace had accidentally elbowed him in the stomach. Then he sighed, his entire body seeming to sag with the sound. “It would be just like that time with the twelve princes, wouldn’t it? Only eleven other couples in a gigantic enchanted ballroom, and you somehow manage to knock a grandfather clock on top of your prince charming.”

 “Once, Father. I did that once. Besides, that prince of yours is the one who practically threw me into that clock in the first place. If he hadn’t danced like he was swinging a sack of grain around ….” A little voice in Grace’s brain kept desperately trying to close her mouth, reminding her that she should be relieved that long-term commitment to a chunk of wood wasn’t in her immediate future. But she had been joking, curse him. “Breaking his legs was probably a community service.”

But Noble had already moved on, staring meditatively off into the distance. “It’s too bad about the washboard. Still, maybe I can trade the information to a wicked uncle or something, see if I can get one to adopt one of you girls for a couple of weeks. The poison, unfortunately, isn’t going to be ready until the end of the month, so at least for right now that’s a wash. If only that butler of his wasn’t so … well, well, well. There he is.” His gaze sharpened as something caught his eye, an almost predatory edge sliding into his expression. “I’ve got him now.”

Noble set off into the crowd, stopping only when he realized that there was now a Grace-shaped weight firmly attached to his shirtsleeve. “Who’s ‘he,’ and what terrible thing are you about to drag him into?” She took a quick, desperate look in the direction he had been staring, hoping the view would give her some sign of whatever was going on in his head. “More importantly, when are you going to spring this terrible thing on us?”

 “Not ‘us,’ my dear girl.” Noble was smiling contentedly as he carefully pried her fingers off his arm, and for the first time that morning Grace felt her stomach twist with genuine nerves. “I try to save the more … extreme situations for one of your sisters”

Grace’s eyes narrowed. “There’s no way Beauty’s going to believe a word that comes out of your mouth. After that whole ‘straw into gold’ mess you tried to pull ….”

Noble shook his head, far too pleased with himself for anyone’s good. “As if I would limit my possibilities that way.”

 “You can’t mean … Patience?” Grace’s breath caught. The oldest of the three girls, Patience was rude, snappish and had a temper that could frighten off a bear, which meant that their father attempted to pass her off less often than he did the other two (large teeth and a willingness to use them made for a very convincing argument). If this was a chance to get her out of the house.... “You think you might actually be able to use her this time?”

He nodded, more than happy to lie. “You’ll never know unless you give me peace to work.”

She scowled at him. “That’s evil.”

His smile became a grin of satisfaction. “I do my best.”

000

“What would you do if I told you that I could solve all your problems?”

Momentarily distracted from a rather amusingly shaped rutabaga, Waverly raised an eyebrow at the tall, slick-looking individual in front of him and tried to decide if he was worth the effort for sarcasm. “Then I would say that you no doubt have too much time on your hands, for you very clearly have some problems of your own that need to be attended to first.”

At the expression on the other man’s face Noble shifted a bit, suddenly ever so faintly unsure of himself. He knew he was being insulted, but wasn’t sure how or whether it was worth possibly sacrificing the plan to call him on it. Still, no point in wasting the opportunity …. “Unfortunately for me, none of my problems involve your employer’s ... condition, which happens to be the subject that I am currently most prepared to deal with.”

Waverly sighed, looking fondly over at the displays of produce it was clear he wasn’t going to be allowed to return to for quite some time. He could do them both a favor and verbally destroy the man before he truly embarrassed himself, but to do so in public would be unforgivably rude. “And what condition would that be?”

Still caught somewhat off guard, Noble studied the other man’s eyes in the hopes he could see the joke.  When that failed, he cleared his throat and began a more concerted effort to be charming. “Amusing, sir, but I believe you know the condition I speak of as well as anyone does. Wouldn’t it be simplest, then, to leave such delicate matters for a more private setting and get right down to business?” He held out a hand for a handshake, but pulled it back quickly when Waverly merely eyed it as though he found the gesture amusing.  The idea rankled – what did the man expect, a bow?

For once, Waverly privately agreed with the man. It would be best to get this over with as soon as possible and return his attention to tasks that were actually important, or at the very least more mentally engaging. “Of course, but it might be wise to clarify a few things first,” Waverly allowed a disdainful edge to come out in his voice. “If by business, you mean that you just happen to have a convenient/daughter/sister/ex-wife laying around your domicile that you just know will be the one that can break the horrifying curse of the Beast of Darkwood Hill, then let me tell you that you are to date the 49th person to have come up with such an idea. I beg you to come up with a reason, any reason, why I should pay any more attention to you than I did them.” He thought for a moment. “And, if at all possible, do please try and make it amusing. I’ve just undergone a rather dull week, and could use the entertainment.”

Noble groaned inwardly. Honesty was all he had left, and it galled his salesman’s heart. “If you take away the sister and ex-wife, then you pretty much have it,” he muttered finally. “However, since I don’t know your taste in humor it’s going to be a little hard to fulfill the last part of your request.”

“Then I suggest you simplify your response by telling me why you think your version of the plan, whatever it happens to be, might actually work.”

Noble shivered inwardly, then reluctantly dipped another toe into truth. “Basically, my main selling point is the fact that Beauty is an incredibly stubborn girl. If she sets her mind to doing something, no amount of big hairy anger management issues is going to scare her off.  In fact,” he admitted after a moment, “it’s possible that she’ll be the one to scare him off.”

Waverly’s eyebrow moved up again, his curiosity finally piqued. For once, this was an angle he’d never heard before. “And does she want this?”

Noble allowed himself a small grimace. Forced into all this honesty in the space of a single conversation – he was going to need to lie down after this. “That, unfortunately, will be the hard part.”

Waverly eyed the man in front of him, sorely tempted for the first time in what he was certain had been years. It wasn’t that he specifically needed the curse broken, though such a result would certainly make life easier for the castle décor and the poor souls doing Beast’s tailoring. It was simply that what Beast needed right now was someone to take him out of himself. If Waverly was lucky, they might even slap some sense into the boy before putting him back.

If nothing else, it was possible he had just found the one girl capable of shouting Beast down if the need arose. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly at the thought. “Out of curiosity, what do you plan to do with this Beauty of yours if I say no?”

This time, the grimace was almost completely suppressed. “I suppose I could try and get her in with this enchanted washboard I’ve heard about ….”

Waverly shook his head with a sigh. The lack of vision in some people was appalling. “I hope you’ve put slightly more thought into your primary plan than you have into your backup. I dislike being a party to incompetence.”

Noble’s forehead wrinkled as he tried to analyze exactly what the butler might have meant with that last sentence. “Are you saying you’re interested?” At the mere forming of the thought he leaned forward slightly, the eagerness already beginning to leap back into his face. “Because I could con Grace into running some sort of errand up near the castle, I’m certain of it. If your master caught her trespassing on the property and held her hostage – in a dungeon would be the best – I’m sure Beauty would trade herself for her sister’s freedom ….”

“That would be one way of going about things.” Waverly took a precautionary step back, in case the man became overcome and insisted on doing something ridiculous like touching him. “A much saner, approach, however, would simply be for me to write this Beauty of yours a letter and offer her a suitable job at a quiet, respectable castle with residents who have conveniently never met you before in their lives. By the time she arrives at her true destination it will be too late for her to back out, and… we shall see what develops.”

Noble fought back an expression that was dangerously close to a scowl. “That’s all?”  Noble had planned on looking like he had nothing to do with this, and would have gotten to that point had he been allowed to actually lay out his brilliantly foolproof plan. This butler person didn’t know his daughter at all – Beauty was way too good at screwing this sort of thing up. There was no way something so idiotically simple could succeed where he had so often been thwarted.
Still, it would be best to agree now, then take matters into his own hands once she was safely inside ….

“For the moment, that will be all that’s needed.” Waverly raised an eyebrow, amused by some distant thought. “Though I suspect that it would be a good idea to hide the fine china.”

Secret Princess Training Camp, pt. 3

Parts 1 and 2 can be found here

000

Unsurprisingly, our first "secret princess" class looked a lot like those special seminars where you're supposed to learn the secret of success for three easy payments of $49.99.

"The only thing that's missing are smiling minions with name tags," I muttered under my breath, making a mental note that folding chairs were no more attractive or comfortable-looking in a fantasy world than they were in mine.

"You're letting your sarcastic internal monologue leak out again," Hortensia whispered, keeping an eye on Mother Gans as she poked me in the leg. Kate had taken over the job of drawing her attention, but the pig was right – I had to be more careful. "You have a point, though – this crowd is too well-behaved for there not to be minions lurking around somewhere."

Magical minions, probably, and the sudden thought made my stomach twist. I scanned the crowd again, hunting for any sign that someone was here who didn't want to be, but no matter where I looked there were only bright, shining faces. There was some whispering, but the women looked too excited to be plotting escape.

There was only one explanation.

Hortensia saw the answer in my face. "Mind control spells," she breathed, looking absolutely panicked.

She started backing up, her steps slow enough I wasn't sure she was consciously doing it, and I caught her arm before she could get very far and leaned in close to whisper into her ear. "They're probably not dosing everyone, or they'd be doing it at the door and we'd already be feeling it. That means they're likely targeting troublemakers. If we smile, play nice, and don't take anything they hand out, we should be fine."

"Unless it's in the food," Hortensia whispered back.

"Well, then we'll... we'll...." See, this is why I liked writing the action instead of living it. I was much better at coming up with clever plans when I had some thinking time and a backspace key. "You're just a ray of sunshine, aren't—"

"You were just telling me about that, weren't you, Jenniffer?"

I shot upright at Kate's suddenly loud question-slash-warning, pasting a bright smile on my face. "Sure!" Deciding that was a little too psychotically cheerful, I dialed it down a notch. "We're really excited."

The small headshake from Kate made it clear I hadn't guessed quite right, but it was close enough that Mother Gans only hesitated a moment before smiling again. "Of course you are, my dears." She ushered us toward the seats. "Now, if you'll just sit down, we can get started. I can get someone to—"

"Oh, there's no need to go to the trouble," Kate cut in, using a smooth, persuasive voice that she must have once used during her old happily-ever-after sales pitches. "I'm sure we can find an open spot somewhere."

We hurried to the chairs, tugging each other into position as Mother Gans headed to the stage at the front of the room. As the music started, Kate leaned over and whispered in my ear. "I think the seating attendants are holding small misters."

As a former Fairy Godmother, Kate has more experience with mind control potions than the rest of us. "Any chance there's a cure like there was for True Love?" I whispered back. I'd have made sure there was, if I'd been the one writing this, but since I wasn't at my keyboard there was no way to be sure.

Kate shrugged. "I don't know. Given the way she was smiling, Mother Gans might actually be spraying herself."

Onstage, she'd started into the pitch, a magic mirror projecting a fake ballroom onto the walls behind her. "...want to shift the nature of what is possible for each and every one of you. In your old lives you were forgotten – shopkeepers, scullery maids – passed over every day by dozens of people who saw you as boring. Ordinary. But I'm here to tell you that each and every one of you are special. You are...." She paused for emphasis as her hands lifted, the music providing the appropriate dramatic accompaniment. "Secret princesses!"

Wild applause erupted, which we joined an instant later. Tuning the sales pitch out, I studied the seating attendants who were positioned in the aisles. They were all average-looking women, clearly no warriors among them, and the fact that they needed the potions hopefully meant they weren't witches or sorceresses themselves. If it was anything like True Love, we'd be fine as long as we stayed out of spraying range, though that would eliminate any chance of being able to steal one for ourselves.

Which, now that I thought about it, might be the best idea. If the crowd was any indication, a good spritz of the stuff made you super compliant. If we gave them a dose of potion directly to the face, it was possible we could get a minion to actually lead us out of here....

"...deserve more than to be a bit player in someone else's story, appearing only in a few crowd scenes to fill out the background. You're all meant to be the heroine of your very own tales, sweeping princes off their feet with your beauty, charm and goodness. Who knows, maybe you all are lost princesses, trapped in the wrong life through a cruel twist of fate with no memory of the glory that you've lost."

The crowd cheered again, even more loudly than before, and out of the corner of my eye I could see at least one woman with tears streaming down her face. Next to me, Kate looked alarmed. "At first I thought she was trying to start the Fairy Godmothers, Inc. racket up again, but the truth is that she sounds more like you."

I just stared her, horrified by the thought. "Take that back."

She looked almost guilty, which only made things worse. "I'm sorry, but it's true. The whole 'everyone deserves their own story' thing? You were talking about almost exactly that last night."

Worried now, I paid more attention to what Mother Gans was saying. "The only thing holding you back is the tools needed to become the heroine of the story. The way to dress and the things to say that lets the story know that you are the one it should be paying attention to. The one who the prince adores, who always knows the right thing to say and just how to solve the problem. The one everyone listens to." She threw her hands up in the air, face once again alight with the crazy. "We will make the world beautiful with your stories, and when we're done no one will ever ignore us again?"

On my other side, Hortensia leaned in close. "Is it just me," she whispered, "or does this sound suspiciously like some kind of hostile takeover?"

I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut for a second. Only I would be dumb enough to create a reality where Mother Goose would get a taste for world domination. "It's not just you." I hesitated, thinking. "Are you okay here alone for a little while?"

She looked around, then nodded. "Don't be gone long, though."

"I won't." Then I leaned over to Kate. "We need to get outside. Follow my lead." I doubled over, clutching my stomach, then hobbled my way over to the aisle. Kate stayed next to me, a hand on her back and a concerned look on her face.

We'd barely left the row of chairs when one of the seating attendants moved to intercept us, hand slightly raised, and I kept an eye on the bottle while Kate spoke. "I'm sorry, but my friend is nauseous from something she ate before we arrived here, and we don't want to interrupt the beautiful presentation. Where are the bathrooms?"

The woman hesitated, hand half raised, and I lurched forward with a gagging noise. She jerked back, clearly afraid of being in target range, then waved us both to the exit. We hurried out, straightening only when the doors had swung shut behind us.

"This will go faster if we split up," Kate said. "One of us can check the perimeter while the other looks for our things."

I shook my head. "It also increases the chance of one us being caught and conveniently used as a hostage during a key narrative moment." I tried not to think or Hortensia, knowing that I'd left her in exactly that position. "Come on. Let's go look for your magic mirrors."  

Beast Charming cover reveal!

The book itself may still be almost a year away, but the cover for "Beast Charming" is finally here! There may be some minor tweaks to it between now and the actual launch - in my experience, cover artists twitch over the final details of their work almost as much as writers do - but it'll look basically like this:

Personally, it made me do a ridiculous little happy dance. What do you guys think?

Presenting Kate, from "Fairy Godmothers, Inc."

This is Kate, my Fairy Godmother extraordinaire, as conceived by the fabulous Lettie. I especially love the official uniform, which is somehow both fabulous and exactly the sort of thing that would drive Kate nuts. Feel free to share the image, if you'd like, though please don't get rid of the attribution at the bottom. 

Fairy Godmothers, Inc. epilogue:The Swing of Things

Epilogue: The Swing of Things

            Fairy Godmother or royal fiancée, there was no escaping a fancy dress ball.

            "Relax," Jon murmured in Kate ear. He tightened the arm that was hooked around hers, the closest they could get to a hug without breaking position. Rupert had just stepped through the curtain, and once the applause died down they would be next. "You used to attend these things for a living."

            "I was usually hiding out in the corridor," Kate whispered back, fighting the urge to reach and touch the complicated upsweep the hairdresser had erected on top of her head. There was no tiara, thankfully - there'd nearly been a fight over that - but there were enough jeweled pins in there to let her eat comfortably for a year. It was mildly terrifying. "If I can do that for *this* ball, I promise you I'll calm down in no time."

            "But then I'd miss you." Though her eyes were still fixed on the curtain in front of them, Kate could hear the smile in Jon's voice. "Unless I could hide out in the corridor, too. Then I'm all for it."

            "Don't be ridiculous," the queen said from behind her. Her own hairstyle was twice as tall, though thankfully she'd been talked out of the songbirds. "Our fairy princess looks far too fabulous to even consider running off."

            Before Kate could respond to that, the trumpeting started. Taking a deep breath, she let Jon guide her through the curtain and to the waiting crowd beyond.

            "His Highness Prince Jonathan Alistair Crispin Lorimer Charming, heir to the throne of Somewhere, and his bride-to-be Katharine Mary Elizabeth Francesca Harris!"

            As the applause started, Kate leaned close to Jon. "I don't have any middle name," she whispered fiercely. "How exactly did I end up with three of them!"

            Jon sent a narrow-eyed look in the announcer's direction. The announcer very deliberately refused to meet his gaze. "I keep meaning to fire him, don't I?"

            Kate sighed. "I'll start reminding you." As they started their slow, dignified walk down the stairs, the trumpeter started again in preparation for the king and queen's announcement. Immediately, the gathered guests forgot she existed and turned their attention back to the curtain.

            It was an enormous relief.

            "See?" Jon whispered once they'd been safely swallowed up by the crowd. "You survived it."

            "The first five minutes, yes." Even as the relief uncoiled inside her, Kate tightened her hold on Jon's arm. "I still have the rest of the night to get through."

            "Compliment their hair," Lawton offered, suddenly appearing next to them with a glass of ridiculously pink champagne in his hands. "If they have no hair, compliment their no doubt hideously expensive dinner jacket."

            Jon raised an eyebrow at him. "And after that?"

            Lawton smirked. "Why, she should stab them with her shoe and flee, of course."

            "No, she should dance." Rellie emerged from between two women with skirts clearly designed to smuggle dwarf armies, dragging Ned along behind her. Somewhere in the distance, music started playing. "People aren't moving away like they're supposed to, but I figure if I step on enough toes we should be fine."

            Ned, looking dazed but happy, let himself be carried along. "I love it when she does that."

            Rellie stopped, surveying the patch of dance floor. "This should work." She smiled at Ned, holding out her other hand, and they quickly moved into dance position.

            "That sounds like an excellent idea, milady." Jon turned to Kate, holding out his own hand. "Shall we?"

            She felt the corners of her mouth curve upward. "Shouldn't you be reminding everyone what a wonderful heir to the throne they have looking out for them?"

            His smile was soft. "I'd rather enjoy how lucky I am that you said yes."

            Kate melted. Jon had a rather alarming talent for doing that. "It's hard to say no to you."

            Jon's smile widened into a grin as they settled into position. "Not that you didn't try."

            She returned the grin as he whisked her into the dance. "Clearly, my heart wasn't in it."

Black Friday Deals at Fairy Godmothers, Inc.!!!

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Great for those families with multiple grandsons/granddaughters who aren't doing well socially! The 12 Dancing Princesses Package (can be modified for princes with an additional $20 per person fee) gives young people the chance to attend regular balls with mysterious, attractive strangers who may or may not be human. Note: This package is only open to those clients who can fill all 12 slots. Multiple clients may combine their purchase in order to meet package requirements.

Extras

Enchanted Thorns

Do you have a paramour who doesn't appreciate you enough? A sweetheart who won't take you seriously? Get them to prove their love by forcing him to chop through a wall of enchanted thorns! Enchanted Thorns kit includes starter seeds, instructions, and magic EZ GROW potion to ensure that the thorns reach maturity in 6-7 days. Disclaimer: Fairy Godmothers, Inc. will not be held responsible for any deaths or maimings that result from incorrect use of either the Enchanted Thorns or the EZ GROW potion.

To complete your order or learn more about Fairy Godmothers, Inc., visit either one of our fine retail portals. For more information, send us an e-mail at fairygincorporated@gmail.com.

Cinderella style: “Fairy Godmothers, Inc.” alternate ending

This is the original ending for “Fairy Godmothers, Inc.” I don’t like it quite as well as the one that made it into book – I wasn’t quite as good at juggling multiple people in the same scene when I wrote this, so certain characters were kind of shuffled off to the side – but it’s an interesting look at the different ways you can take a scene. The beginning and ending of the chapter will be very familiar to those who have read the book, but the middle plays out quite differently.

Chapter 26: Heroes and Fairy Godmothers

            Even though she’d known it was coming, Kate couldn’t help but tense at the word “arrest.” The hand that wasn’t holding John’s reached into her pocket, fingers curling around the vial that she’d slid in there at the last minute. She trusted John absolutely, but he of all people would approve of having an emergency backup plan.

The queen, however, was having none of it. She’d shot up out of her throne, face blazing with royal fury. “How dare you speak that way of a princess-to-be?” John had teased her about hiding under the stairs when his mother had come by earlier, but Kate had known that it would be a lot easier for the queen to defend her son’s sweetheart if she hadn’t actually met her yet. “You’re the one who should be arrested!”

            Bubbles swung her gaze back to the queen, suddenly dipping into a low bow as her instincts for dealing with upper management finally started to take over. “You don’t want this woman as a daughter-in-law, Your Majesty. She’s an employee of Fairy Godmothers, Inc. who has stolen valuable company property.” Her gaze slid back over to Kate for a second, rage flickering in the depths of her eyes. “Let me take care of the problem for you.”

            The queen’s brow lowered as she looked at her son. “I’m not particularly concerned with this ridiculous stealing business, Jonathan, but I warned you about marrying a Fairy Godmother.” She looked over at Kate, looking oddly regretful. “I’m sorry, my dear, but a princess can’t very well be employed by the people she’ll outrank.”

            Hesitantly, Kate raised her hand. “Actually, I quit, which means that I’m technically not a Fairy Godmother anymore.” She pushed the cloak off her shoulders, stretching her wings out briefly in sheer relief. “I’m just a fairy.”

            John grinned over at her. “And after she marries me, she’ll be a fairy princess.”

            The queen’s face cleared instantly. “Oh how fabulous. I’ve never had the chance to accessorize wings before.” Before Kate had a chance to get nervous over that last thought, the queen was glaring at Bubbles again. “I’m still upset with you, peasant.”

            Bubbles glared right back. “She broke the law, Your Majesty,” she said through clenched teeth. “You don’t want that kind of embarrassment.”

            “What’s to be embarrassed about?” John’s voice was easy, but pitched just right to catch the entire crowd’s attention. When they turned to him, he stepped forward and gently tugged Kate with him. “Her true love was being tormented by the effects of a wicked spell, and she stole the item needed to set me free. It’s a nearly textbook definition of a quest, and as such everything Kate did in the last 48 hours is covered by questing law.” He smiled, and Kate tried to look as relaxed and confident as he was. “The fact that the shoe fit merely confirms that she is, indeed, my true love.”

            Both the king and queen were now staring at John with lowered brows. “Why didn’t you tell me you were under a wicked spell?” the queen asked, warning in her voice. She turned to her husband. “Did he tell *you* he was under a wicked spell?”

            “There. Was. No. Wicked. Spell,” Bubbles insisted, glaring at John’s parents as if she could make them agree with her by sheer force of will. “It was merely a misunder—“

            The queen’s gaze snapped away from her husband, the righteous indignation rising again in her expression as she glared right back at Bubbles. “I should think my son can be trusted to know whether or not he was under a wicked spell!”

            Bubbles grit her teeth, a muscle visibly working in her jaw by the time she turned back to John. “So you’re going to continue with this ridiculous claim? That a simple business tool was some sort of terrible villainy you had to be freed from?”

            “Your ‘business tool’ held my mind hostage.” The room fell silent at the quiet intensity in John’s voice. “It kept trying to steal my free will and turn me into your little puppet.” Kate could hear the tension building with each word, and she squeezed his hand in an attempt to offer comfort. He glanced over at her, expression softening briefly as he gave her a return squeeze. “It tried to make me betray the people I care about most.”

            Bubbles’ glare only deepened, and Kate suddenly knew for certain that management had known exactly what happened to the people who didn’t accept the True Love.

            John smiled slowly at Bubbles, the expression remarkably similar to what Kate imagined a dragon would look like just before it decided to swallow the knight. “Which means that you, and by extension Fairy Godmothers, Inc., have a decision to make. You can walk out of here right now, cancel any and all contracts you might have on anyone in this room, and do your best to forget that Kate or any of the rest of us even exist. Or you can explain to all of those royal families whose sons and daughters married people they didn’t really approve of that you drugged them into thinking they’d fallen in love.”

            Bubbles eyes went wide. “You wouldn’t—” Her mouth instantly snapped closed, as if she’d realized how ridiculous the words were.

John’s smile merely widened. “I wonder what percentage of Fairy Godmother-created marriages would suddenly explode in messy, scandalous divorces. And the lawsuits …. The company’s reputation would be destroyed in a matter of what, days?”

            Bubbles stared at him, unable to speak for a moment, but the situation had collapsed too fast and she was beyond horror. Kate understood exactly what that felt like, which was why she wasn’t at all surprised when her former boss simply redirected her glare towards Kate. “It’s utterly beyond me how these people could be interested in anyone as irrelevant as you are, but for the good of the company it seems as though you’ll temporarily escape the consequences of your actions. Undoubtedly the royal family will come to regret making such a powerful enemy in the long run—”

            “No.” It took Kate a second to realize that she’d actually said the word out loud, but her voice was sure and steady as she slid her hand out of John’s hold and headed down the stairs towards Bubbles. “No more last-minute bluster. I may have started this mess, but I refuse to let anyone I care about have to keep worrying about you.”

            Kate stopped only a few inches away from her former boss, close enough that the older woman was forced to look up slightly to glare at her properly. “What do you think you’re going to do?” Bubbles sneered. “The only part in this entire escapade you haven’t managed to fail at completely is theft.”

            “True Love, however, never fails.” Kate pulled out her company issued bottle, undoing the spray top and holding it up directly in front of Bubbles’ eyes. “Maybe we should see what your romantic destiny is.”

            Bubbles actually paled. “You wouldn’t dare.”

            “Oh, but I’m pretty sure I would.” Kate smiled, feeling more than a little like a dragon herself. “You did it to John, after all. And I want to make sure that you’re really persuasive when you explain everything he just told you to management.”

            Bubbles’ eyes narrowed. “I won’t pursue the contract, but I am not going to tell—”

            Kate shook the bottle slightly. “I wouldn’t want to bespell any of the poor men behind you.” The four security guards that had followed Bubbles in immediately backed away in unison. “But I’m sure one of the palace guards would be happy to lose a boot to the greater good. Or maybe we should keep things simple and have you fall in love with the company uniform you’re wearing. I’m sure the two of you would be very happy together.”

            Bubbles teeth clenched. “How dare you think you get to be the hero in all this!” she hissed.

            “Actually, he’s the hero,” Kate said softly, tilting her head back towards John. She put the spray cap back on the True Love, dropping it into her pocket as she took a step back. “I’m just the Fairy Godmother.”

            There was a heartbeat of total silence, then the room broke into wild applause. At a gesture from John the guards dragged Bubbles and the men she’d arrived with out of the building, and everyone immediately swarmed together with cheers and congratulations.

Kate just watched it all for a minute, still reeling from the realization that everything had actually worked out like they’d hoped it would, until Rellie appeared and threw her arms around her. “That was so cool!” she laughed, squeezing tight until Kate had the good sense to hug her back. “You and John totally have to start that company so I can be a Fairy Godmother just like you are!”

Then Ned was there, and Rellie immediately launched herself into his arms. Over her shoulder, Ned grinned at Kate. “You did good, Boss.”

Kate grinned back. “So did you.” The shock had given way to sheer relief, and when Lawton’s hand touched her shoulder she impulsively hugged him as well. “Sorry you didn’t get any of the good lines, Lawton.”

He chuckled as they pulled away. “As long as my sacrifice is duly noted.”

A moment later she felt a hand, warm and gentle, on the small of her back. “Doesn’t the hero get a hug?” Without a word she turned and threw herself into John’s arms, pressing her face against his neck and holding onto her happy ending for all she was worth.

She didn’t let go even when she saw John’s mother approach, still looking royal despite the chaos that surrounded her. The queen gave both of them a long, carefully evaluating look, then sighed. “As much as I appreciate the way you and Jonathan verbally decimated that peasant, I do ask that you remember to use the term fairy princess instead of Fairy Godmother. When can we start your fitting for the wedding gown?”

“Actually, we’re planning on an extended engagement,” John said quickly, and Kate decided that it was close enough to the truth not to argue. “You’ll still be seeing her around the palace, but I’ll be giving her some kind of managerial title until she’s officially a princess.” Ned would be hired on as her assistant, they’d decided, and Kate would do what she could to distract Rellie (and John, probably) from the idea of a brand-new Fairy Godmother company.

The queen looked appalled. “You can’t hire your future bride! It’s just not done!”

“Okay.” John shrugged, then grinned at Kate. “You have to help me run the kingdom and keep my sanity out of the goodness of your heart, but you get free run of the treasury.”

Kate nearly had a heart attack at the words “free run of the treasury,” but it was very hard not to be okay when John had his arms around her. “Sounds fair.”

The queen opened her mouth again, clearly not feeling similarly settled about the matter, when a little girl suddenly appeared from between two people and dove beneath the edge of her skirt. The queen jumped, frantically trying to lift the layers of fabric hiding the child from view. “Jonathan, I’m certain I didn’t approve my gown being used as play equipment!”

Kate and John grinned at each other, then she pulled out of his arms to crouch down in front of the queen. “If I may, Your Majesty?” She lifted several layers of skirt just far enough to reveal the curly-haired child, who giggled at being discovered.

John leaned forward. “Hide and seek, I presume?”

Just as the girl nodded, a much taller figure burst through the crowd. “Lucy, I told you you’re not supposed to go ….” The voice trailed off, and the little girl dashed off again as everyone else looked up at the suddenly frozen Rupert.

He stared at his mother. “Um … hi?”

The queen’s eyes widened with delight. “You’re back from questing! Oh darling, this is wonderful! I have so much to talk to you about ….”

Panicked, Rupert glanced over at John, then sketched a quick bow to his mother before turning and disappearing back into the crowd.

The queen’s eyes narrowed again as she whirled on her youngest son. “Jonathan, explain.”

John sighed, and Kate smothered a laugh as she put a consoling arm around his shoulders. “It’s a long story.”

Sneak Peek: Exclusive look at "Dreamless."

Technically, this isn't my newest book that's going to be published - that's "Beast Charming," which is due out next fall. This is my third book, my take on the "Sleeping Beauty" myth that's currently being called "Dreamless." I'm in the long, slow process of editing it as we speak, but I thought I'd let you guys get a peek at this first page.

Chapter 1: Mindfulness

“So, how are we feeling today?”

            Elena was fairly certain that Dr. Flyte knew exactly how annoying the question was, and kept asking it in the hopes that one day when she would snap and hurl something at him instead of answering. He’d nearly admitted as much one day – they both knew she was intelligent enough to know what the word “catharsis” meant – despite the fact that it wasn’t the most sensible therapeutic technique for a centuries-old magic mirror to use. 

            It was for the sake of Dr. Flyte’s continued health, then, that she would continue to disappoint him.  “Actually, I’m a little tired. A spellbook I’d been waiting for finally arrived yesterday, and I’m afraid I stayed up later reading it than I should have.” Her smile was an old defensive reflex, well-used and entirely meaningless. “I assure you, Alan gave me a suitably firm talking-to.”

            Had her personal bodyguard been close enough to hear them, rather than standing at attention on the other side of the door, he would have given her that look that made it clear he could see right through her. Dr. Flyte, however, carefully had no expression at all. “Shall I talk to Commander Merrick? Given the damage he did to his leg during that incident with Prince Nigel, it would comfortably fall within the range of post-trauma employee evaluations.”

            Elena would have sworn she kept her expression blank, but one of the doctor’s eyebrows still twitched upward. It was, she knew from experience, his version of a smirk. “Of course, questions about his job duties would naturally come up, particularly about the mental state of the princess he spends his days guarding.”

            That was the problem with verbally fencing with a true magic mirror, the sentient entities that were so much more than the mass-produced communication devices they’d inspired. Though some continued their traditional work with particularly lucky sorcerers or sorceresses, many of the original mirrors had gone on to have second careers in a variety of fields where information and perceptiveness were more important than arms and legs.

            Elena lifted her chin slightly, abandoning evasion for simple stubbornness. “What makes you think Alan could tell you any more about how I feel than these sessions we’ve been having for so long? After poking and prodding me all these years, surely you’ve figured me out by now.”

            Dr. Flyte sighed, his ghostly face sagging gently into something she refused to acknowledge as sadness. “Elena.” The disappointment in his voice was worse than chiding would have been. “I’m only trying to help.”
            She pressed the palms of her hands flat against her legs, refusing to let them betray her emotions. “Curses are supposed to help you attract a royal spouse, or temporarily punish a business rival when a lawsuit doesn’t quite get the message across. The worst ones are supposed to simply kill people.” Elena couldn’t keep the edge out of the words. “And then there’s me.”

            Dr. Flyte had known her family long enough that she didn’t have to go into detail. Her mother, a sorceress who had decided to take the “evil” track after grad school simply because her beloved older sister had. She decided to leave the family business when she fell in love, a common enough story. This time, though, that older sister hadn’t taken it well.

            “Elena, you know perfectly well how unusual your situation is. The ‘evil’ part of an evil sorceress’s title is often nothing more than a marketing tool, and there are a vast and ferociously defended set of rules in place to keep what your aunt did from happening. Though there are any number of scholarly papers out there debating the merits of this, curses are generally seen as instructional at their worst and helpful at their best. Not….” The word hovered alone for a moment, the doctor’s normal verbal acuity apparently having failed him for a moment.

            “Cruel?” Elena finished, feeling the old anger stir and forcing it back down. It never helped anything, and Dr. Flyte didn’t deserve to get caught in the backlash. “Appallingly vindictive to both her supposedly beloved younger sister and her only niece?”

            The doctor opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Yes.”

            Elena took a deep breath, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles out of her dress as she ordered her emotions to steady. “I’m exactly like I was yesterday, Dr. Flyte.”