Now on Amazon.com:
“Ah, the kitchen maid, the kitchen maid, she’s a shade underpaid but she’ll soon be laid in the shade with a spade!” they taunted, dancing closer, baring their fangs and showing their evil claws. An inky line of vining tattoos covered their skins, twisting over their supple breasts and winding around each of their bellies as they shook their hips like possessed Bedouins, like succubi, temptresses of the night.
In the final throes of formatting. This book will be live as soon as is humanly & computerly possible.
I took a different tack with the evil step-sisters.
Here’s a bit from them:
The demon sisters shrieked into their feminine forms, materializing on the precipice. “Cinderella,” they called in unison. “Time to come home to mummy! The prince is too yummy for you, you dummy!” And they cackled together, dancing sinuously within the swirls of smoke and fine cloth spinning around them in thin air.
More from As You Wish:
Annora opened her mouth to speak but words? What were words? All she knew was the raw emotion of longing and heartbreak, and it rose into her chest like a cobra, fanning out through her breast and pressing against her lungs so that she might not breathe.
More from As You Wish. Are you getting excited to read it?
“For the last time,” he said, pulling her toward him by the hips before moving his hands to her face, cradling it gently as they stared at one another, eye-to-eye. Finally, when the girl thought she could bear it no more and that she would wish herself his forever, he kissed her so passionately that she lost her place in time, her very identity, her fear of this truth written as plainly across her face as it had become etched upon her heart. I am no one without him.
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Not a huge slice, but more than a few lines.
Are you getting excited about As You Wish? GAWD, I really hope you love it.
Here’s a bit more:
The muffled voice of the prince drifted into her subconscious. “Princess?” He sounded forlorn, confused. We’ve got that in common, at least. She fought to wake, to answer, but it seemed there was not enough air, and the effort was too taxing. The harder she tried to wake, the further she slipped into a familiar dreamland. She could see it now—the castle from her dreams was Philip’s home. As though she were still outside the pumpkin-carriage, she watched it rapidly darkening in the fading sun, turning ever more into the dream castle from her midnight walks with Mother. Everything turned as crystalline as her slippers, here in the stillness of her mind’s eye.
But then it changed, and not for the better. Charming grew in stature, towering over the castle ramparts, his dark aura billowing through velvet robes, terrible and powerful over all. Demons danced in swirls of liquid color below, the kind Prince Philip bent at the waist as her step-sisters brutalized him. Such horrid dreams. Oh, let me wake from this nightmare. Mother! Where are you?
“I’m here, Cinderella,” came the cruel voice of the witch-mother, rolling down the castle steps to land on the bones of Annora’s dearly departed mother. “Mummy’s never coming back, little girl,” the witch-mother hissed.
“Love is its own cruel magic,” he said. “Blessing for some, curse for others. Magic wouldn’t be magic if we knew why it worked.”