The Bitches of Enchantment — Barbra Annino

PROLOGUE

When last we left our fierce princesses--rulers of the United Kingdom of Enchantment, they had found themselves in grave peril. Facing an unseen enemy, an unknown nemesis. Dare I say, a villain. Not one of mine, of course. No, whoever was behind the spell that stole the memories of my princesses, was far darker than any my imagination had ever conceived. This villain--villains?--was far more cruel than a stepmother, more heartless than a greedy queen, more diabolically patient than a wicked witch. Whoever had cast the spell had a sinister power the likes of which I had never seen in my homeland.

But if you live long enough, as I have, you hear whispers on the wind of such darkness. Soulless creatures who will stop at nothing to destroy anything--or anyone--who blocks their crooked path. I have heard of such villains. Others have written about them. They exist in the shadows until some thread of their own story unravels, and they seek out a new narrative.

Not that I know who is behind the undoing of my heroines. If I did, I would have given them the tools to fight the evil. I would have written them their happy endings. Alas, I know not what will become of them now in this strange new world. I know only that between them, they are more powerful than they ever realized. And that the one destined to save them all need only to remain steadfast and strong to rise to victory. Then maybe--just maybe--this won't be the end of their tale.

However, the powerful clap of hoof beats, the drumming of soldiers approaching, and the smell of treachery in the air surrounding my tiny cottage as I write this, tells me that it could be the end of mine.

~Jacob Grimm
The Scribe

EXCERPT

This was Jack Bean's first kidnapping and he wasn't quite sure of the protocol. “Excuse me, Bella? Would you mind cracking a window, please? It's a bit stuffy back here.”


Jack was lying prone on the back seat of a long car, his hands and feet bound. He wasn't sure why the two crazy women who had abducted him from his home in the middle of the night hadn't taped his mouth shut too, but he was grateful for that. He was still wearing his pajamas and slippers, and he felt that if he had been stripped of one last dignity, it would have broken him. As it was, he would have to quit his job as psychologist of the damned (a title he had only thought of as he was being hog-tied by a skinny brunette with sharp boots, screaming, “You had to make it difficult, didn't you!”) and move to another country. Maybe an island. Where the only women were kindly nurturers who wore shapeless dresses, carried a baby on each hip and always had soup on the stove. 


In the front seat, Aura sighed. “Look, Doc, we tried to reason with you. We tried to explain things, but this is one of those, ‘you have to see it to believe it' kind of scenarios.”


A cool breeze blew through the car and Jack smelled the kind of artificial vanilla scent that came from those cardboard trees people hung on their rearview mirrors.


Jack said, “No matter what the problem, kidnapping is never the answer, Aura. You've been doing so well in your group sessions. You've made so much progress. How could you throw it all away? You realize, of course, that I'll have to report this. Both of you are going to be right back in front of the judge tomorrow.”


Jack wondered how he could have failed so miserably. Where had he gone wrong? He knew the group from Granny's Home for Girls were challenging. Hell, they were criminals, not members of polite society. But this? This he never saw coming. And to top it all off he really had to relieve himself. He'd been about to do just that when Aura had broken into his house. He didn't know how she had picked the lock, slid the chain off the door, cracked the security code, and hacked the two deadbolts, but she'd done it with stealth and efficiency. He hadn't even heard her and Bella slip through the door.