Not For Bedtime Stories: Not for Bedtime Stories, #1

By Kathryn Scarborough

A collection of short stories and alternate fairytales; sometimes humorous,sometimes sad, sometimes thought-provoking, but, always entertaining.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kathryn Scarborough
• Release date: May 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201330040

Kathryn Scarborough

Kathryn Scarborough won the 2018 Paranormal Romance Reviewers Award, for her book, The Wild Mountain Thyme and critical acclaim for Deception, and Turn of the Key, a WWII historical novel. She spent her youth moving around the world with her Naval Aviator father, which makes for living inside one’s head totally appropriate. Kathryn started out as a musician, music teacher, and director before studying teaching and special education. She has four grown children and three wonderful grandchildren. She lives in central North Carolina with her husband and two crazy dogs. You can see Kathryn’s other books at www.Scarboroughbooks.com. Sign up for my newsletter and I will send you a laugh out loud collection of short stories entitled Not for Bedtime Stories. Send an email to:  [e-mail] Happy reading!                                              

Book preview

F o r w a r d

Many times short story collections will have a theme: they might be humorous, profane, silly, ponderous, thought- provoking, or classed in setting or time frame.

I am happy to say, my short story collection, Not for Bedtime Stories follows none of those precepts. I will be happy if you laugh, conjecture, or are just thoroughly entertained by the stories. I’d love to hear what you think. Please leave me a review on Amazon and or Goodreads. It is easy an easy process and fully explained. Go to the book’s page and scroll down to the bottom past the double lines. On the far left you will see a button under the bar graph of recorded reviews that says: Please write a customer review.

Thanks

Kathy Scarborough

Contents

FORWARD................................III

THE KIND STEPMOTHER AND THE EVIL STEP CHILDREN  1

DREAM LAND...............................6

RAPUNZEL’S CHOICE.......................13

SNOW-OFF-WHITE THE DRAGON AND THE REALLYCLUELESS GUYS  34

DEMONS..................................38

THE TAG SALE.............................58

"SHE CAME IN THROUGH THE BATHROOM

WINDOW".................................62

REMEMBERING..........................74

DREAM MACHINE..........................84

T h e K i n d S t e p m o t h e r a n d t h e    E v i l    S t e p  C h i l d r e n

And you call me a witch?

Wait, don’t, but the caution came too late and Hansel’s kind stepmother watched the last of the milk drip slowly down the wall onto the shattered stoneware pitcher. Drip, drip, drip. The woodcutter’s  new  wife,  Euthenia,  stared dumbfounded at the mess on the floor. She had spent the morning cleaning up after the hellions that were now, by way of marriage, her son and daughter. When Hans Senior had courted her, he’d tempted her with stories of world travel, a lovely

home in the village, and even a maid to come in once a week and clean for her. She’d had visions of a life of ease, volunteering at the local hospital, reading to little ones during story hour at the library, and sweet children that would listen to her and learn from her. Instead, the moment the ink was dry on the marriage license, Hans had told her that her money was now his and that she’d be living in his cottage deep in the woods. He expected her to keep the hovel with the dirt floor clean, and to do the bidding of his son Hansel, and daughter Gretel, the original Valley/mean girl.

Too bad, too sad, quipped Hansel as he tossed his baseball up. He caught it and pulled his arm back to throw again. I guess you think you’re going to tell Pop, huh? Well, tough toenails, I’ll just tell him you did it.

Euthenia blanched and the breath went out of her. Her husband was the epitome of evil, in every way. He taunted her and bullied her each night when he came home, finding fault with each and every thing she did. The floor, a dirt floor!, was never clean enough, if he didn’t like the food, he’d take it outside and throw it to the birds, if he didn’t like the way his clothes were ironed, he’d throw them on the floor and kick them under the bed, and when he got in bed—Euthenia shuddered and tried

not to remember the indignities she’d suffered in the marriage bed. Of course, the two pre-teen hellions followed and emulated his every move and gesture until Euthenia felt like she was in a continual and neverending bad dream. What she didn’t need was for Hansel to give his father any more ammunition against her.

But Hansel, How could she get rid of the little hellions and clean up the mess before her husband got home? Why don’t you and your sister go pick some flowers? There are some lovely blue ones near the back, I saw them yesterday. Your Pop would love those. And I’ll give you the last of the cookies and lemonade to take for a picnic.

Oh yeah, said Gretel in her best snide Valley girl voice. Are you trying to get rid of us? I’ll tell Daddy, but before I do that, I have to text my friend, so I won’t be going on any of your stupid picnics.

Oh, what was she to do? She’d have to get the mess cleaned up before HE came home and she couldn’t do it with THEM around. Oh, but children, she said, thinking fast. I forgot I have some chocolates I kept from last Valentine’s Day.

Chocolates, what do you mean you have chocolates, and you kept them from us? Hansel and Gretel said in unison.

Well, I can give them to you now; here I’ll pack them up.

The children looked at each other, they knew something was up, but the thought of chocolate— well they just nodded in agreement

Euthenia packed a basket for them as quick as could be. The evil stepchildren snatched the basket, turned on their heels with their noses stuck in the air, and slammed the door.

Euthenia looked at the mess all over the wall and the floor. Then she looked at the disaster of the kitchen where the children had made snacks: Blobs of mustard and bits of lettuce were strewn all over the counter and floor, and whole tomatoes had been thrown against the wall in some sort of bizarre