What if Cinderella ditched the prince’s ball and sent her fairy godmother to find love in her place?
Suppose a streetwise hero hired to steal an all-powerful Genie (stuck in a flash drive rather than a brass lamp) for a tech company ended up running for his life with the CEO’s gorgeous, intelligent daughter?
Or what if the bed that a certain golden-tressed girl accidentally napped in belonged to the hot and famous middle brother of a notorious boy band?
Can you envision the sparks that might fly if a bitter and downright beastly wheelchair-bound woman propositioned a handsome bookseller to stay with her in exchange for her rare book collection?
This spellbinding anthology features modern and sexy spins on four classic fairy tales that will enchant you by Jennifer DeCuir, Stephanie Cage, Andrea R. Cooper, and Nancy C. Weeks.
I hope you enjoy His One Wish as much as I enjoyed writing it. The other three stories, A Late Blooming Rose, Music of the Heart, and Fairy Trouble, are adorable stories!
Excerpt of Fairy Trouble. Enjoy!
After paying for their coffee with the help of her magic wand, she settled in the seat across from him outside and took a tentative sip of the caramel macchiato drink she’d picked. One of her favorite things about being disguised as a human was that she could actually savor real food and drink. The bittersweet taste mingled on her tongue, and she closed her eyes in pure bliss.
“Wow, maybe I should’ve ordered what you did rather than black coffee.”
Her eyes snapped open. “What? Oh, no, I-I’ve just really been craving one of these.” For a very long time. “So what happened at the bank?”
“I applied for a loan. The bakery’s going to fold if I don’t do something.” He ran his fingers through his blond-streaked brown hair. “I just … I can’t fail. And the bank refused me, because my dad owns most of the shares. I need to get him to back off or buy him out.”
“What about a fundraiser? Something fun that would bring in families. A carnival!” She’d love to try cotton candy and ride on a roller coaster. “Have it outside of town and draw in people from nearby towns and Pittsburgh. Maybe do catering gigs as well?”
“Those are excellent ideas, thank you.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his, gently squeezing it.
Her insides tingled, and she felt like even her toes were buzzing. What was going on?
“Enough about me. What about you?”
“Me?” she squeaked.
“Sure. What do you do for a living? What’s your passion?”
“Uh … Well, I’m sort of a teacher or counselor, I guess.” Those were the closest human occupations she could come up with that sort of tied in with fairy godmothering. She needed to get his focus off her. “Helping people is my passion. Have you always wanted to be a baker?”
A sadness filled his eyes, and he eased back in the chair. The loss of his hand on hers made her wish she hadn’t asked.
“Yes. It was something my late moth—adoptive mother, Janice, and me did together.”
He took a sip of coffee. “We’d think up ways to change a recipe and make it better. Every Sunday we’d have a dessert somewhere, and she and I would try to figure out the ingredients. My brother and Dad never cared much; they just wanted to eat the food. But it was like a secret language me and Mom shared. I think Dad gave me a year to make the bakery work only out of respect for her. He’s never even stepped through the door.”
“You should talk with him. Convince him to give you more time.”
He shook his head. “I feel like this whole year, he’s been waiting for me to fail. I have to prove him wrong.”
“And you will.” She wished she could wave her magic wand and help Ryan. But she doubted he’d accept the charity of her magic, even though he gave away so much to others. A church bell peeled twice.
“Thank you for listening,” Ryan said with a genuine grin that hinted at a dimple in his left cheek, and Esmeralda’s heart thumped against her chest. “I can’t believe we’ve talked for hours. I’d love to take you to lunch at a place near here. It’s the least I can do for sharing my problems with you.”
Her stomach growled at the sound of food. “Sure, I’ve not eaten since this morning.”
A couple with a young child strolled past them, and Esmeralda’s heart lurched. She loved the clean, sweet smell of newborn babies.
“Great.” He leaned back in the coffee shop’s metal chair. “Italian or Thai?”
She closed her eyes, remembering the scents of each. It was like asking which kind of flower she liked better. They were all unique. “Thai. I’ve always wanted to try it.” Her hand flew to her mouth. Fairy sprinkles, he must think her strange.
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, but his smile was still there and his green eyes twinkled. “Allow me to be your guide then.”