If the Wand Fits by Saranna DeWylde

If the Wand Fits by Saranna DeWylde

Author:Saranna DeWylde [DeWylde, Saranna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Corvus Corax LLC


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And now, for a bonus story: Snow Blight.

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SNOW BLIGHT

SNOW BLIGHT

Chapter One

The Kiss

I don’t get what the big deal is about Prince Charming. They’re a dime a dozen. I mean, I think there was a nest of them in my attic, all anvil-jawed, blond, blue-eyed princes of various realms douche broing it up, playing Call of Wolfenstein or Asscraft or something while drinking beers they brewed in one of my cauldrons. What do I really want with that? I don’t.

You know just from looking at them that they’re the sort to text you a dick pic and no one wants that. Not even if it’s a royal curse-breaking dick pic. No, that was a lie. If a picture of some magical purple-headed womb ferret would break my curse, I’d pet that thing, put a leash on it, and call it Marvin. Everyone knows that standard curse-breaking operating procedure is True Love’s Kiss. Obvious, right?

I should’ve been able to find someone to kiss me, but I have a bigger problem. My curse is of the pestilent variety. Anyone I touch is infected. That’s why they call me Snow Blight. I’m deadly. So, I either get princes who are afraid of me, or those who aren’t afraid but should be. They don’t listen. I tell them. I warned all ofthem before they tried to kiss me that my lips are poison, but Prince Charmings 1-5 said, “Hey babe, why don’t you just trust me? You’ll like it.”

I had no doubt I would like kissing. From what I saw in the movies, it looked pretty fun. Except I am sure that PC1 got it all wrong. He shoved his tongue in my mouth, and it was like a giant, bald caterpillar had squirmed into my mouth. Not sexy. Not romantic. And definitely not curse-breaking. In fact, he gasped, turned green, and then died. I was going to spare you the details, but he basically turned into split pea soup. Now that I think about it, yeah. That’s pretty apt. With ham. In short, it was gnarly.

I guess I should’ve felt worse that I killed him, but I warned him. His own fault for not listening when a princess said no. Part of me doesn’t want to break my curse. I could go find all the douchebros in the world that don’t listen to women, and really, all I’d have to do is sit there while they get their just desserts.

But I have a secret.

I still believe in True Love with the capital letters. The curse breaking kind. And, if he’s out there, I want to find him. I was supposed to be the kind of princess who could sing pretty songs and get birds to sew for me. Mice to clean my castle. And flowers to burst to vibrant life if I hit just the right note. Instead, birds will shit on my picnics with a military-style sort of precision, the mice hiss at me like cats, and if I sing, everything near me dies.



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