Fairy Tales

By Eileen Young

An anthology of fairy tales, including both original tales and retellings of The Shoes That Were Dance To Pieces and Beauty And The Beast.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eileen Young
• Release date: Nov 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310020131

Eileen Young

Editor, writer, superhero.

Book preview

Fairy Tales

Copyright 2014 Eileen Young

Published by Eileen Young at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Table of Contents

Original: Heliotrope

Beauty and the Beast

Original: Games

Original: Swans and Sexual Dimorphism

The Shoes That Were Danced To Pieces

Original: Heliotrope

The sun beats down on the two of them, and he stares at her sleeping form in wonder. He’d be more than happy to think that he’s the reason for the glow in her, but the two of them finished before dawn, and while she was sleepily content, there wasn’t this bone-deep joy.

She’s facing towards the sun, and he’s heard of this before. He shades her eyes, and she makes a sleepy protesting noise and shifts. He smiles, entirely happy with his life, and kisses her on the shoulder where it rests in shade.

He slips out of bed and walks to the bathroom to take care of his morning ablutions. In the mirror his jaw is stubbled, and he doesn’t have any of his shaving stuff here. He’d been hoping to stick around and be here when she wakes up, but there might be some advantage to going home and coming back presentable. He can bring her breakfast then, too, and feed her pastries in bed. She'll stay warm and pliable and naked, and he'll get to enjoy her longer. This is shaping up to be an excellent plan.

He cracks the bathroom window and shifts into a wren and is gone out across the city. The wind is vivifying, and it’s almost a shame that the flight is so short. He lands on his balcony and checks the street below for passerby before he shifts back human. At least his clothes come with him, so if anyone did spot him they might think it an optical illusion that he appeared so quickly. There’s the momentary confusion at shifting, as always, and then he remembers how to work his hands and can go in. Forms that can fly are much easier, much closer to what he grew up in even if the feathers are strange.

Flighted forms are also much harder to find luxury for, so he has developed a proximal affection for being human. He showers, shaves, and dresses in slacks and a relaxed linen shirt in short order, then grabs his wallet and is out the door. He debates, quickly - it’s not that long a walk, and there’s the patisserie on the