These tales aren’t the ones from your childhood, but adult-only reads with sexy heroes. Decadent Publishing offers
a variety of twisted romance stories based on Grimm’s Fairytales. These stories are like none you’ve ever known.
One of my favorite authors is Taryn Kincaid who has the uncanny ability to twist a fairy tale
and she has her own version of Sleeping Beauty.
A Beyond Fairytales story
By
Taryn Kincaid
A dystopian retelling of Sleeping Beauty
Sleeping Beauty in a post-apocalyptic land…
In a world gone mad, where little
remains but a vast wasteland of sand, the leader of a troop of roving warriors
welcomes a brave young woman into his midst.
Much as he burns for her, Major Clay
Worthington swears to keep his distance from the mysterious woman, so sensitive
even the stinging rain can wound her.
Rosina
Brierly is besotted with the formidable soldier and will gladly trade her life
for one torrid night of blissful passion in his arms.
But when sleep
overcomes them, will true love prevail?
***********************
Excerpt:
Does
the major ever feel lust? Does he covet a woman’s touch? He never gave any sign he did. Too aloof
and austere, too remote from the simple emotions of mere mortal men.
He shook her again. “Wake up,
princess. The rain will come soon.”
The men looked forward to the rain.
They hated the relentless sun blasting down upon them, as if they thought it
would incinerate what was left of the earth beneath their boots, baking the
soft sand into badlands as hard as concrete. They’d strip off their T-shirts
and boots, their combat fatigues, and sometimes even their camouflage boxer
shorts, and dance and play, naked or nearly so, in the slanting gray soup,
laughing, tossing round balls or throwing saucer-shaped plastic discs to each
other.
For her, the showers had the
opposite effect. The stinging rain sliced into her sensitive skin like acid,
raising blisters and sores, sometimes bloodying her.
She did not know why the major
called her princess. Perhaps he
didn’t know either. Whatever royalty once walked the earth had long gone, fled
underground or died in battle or simply disappeared. The war engulfed every
human on the planet, every inch of land, and had waged so long she doubted
anyone remembered anymore. Well, maybe Nicodemus. At least he sometimes hinted
he did in the stories he told. And she had seen him whisper into the major’s
ear, unknown things that made the major pale beneath his weathered tan.
Major Worthington did not treat her like
a princess, though, except when she slumbered, when he knelt before her in her
fantasy world, his head bowed, his fist over his heart, laying his sword at her
feet and claiming the role of knight. Her hero. Her champion. When she awoke,
he remained one of the elite warrior breed roaming the planet, bristling with
weapons like the soldiers he led. He treated her as the translator she was to
him, sometimes barking orders to her as if she were one of his men, only
occasionally seeking her counsel.
She came fully awake as he jerked
her up from the ground and yanked her toward him. The glare of the setting sun
broadsided her, hurting her eyes. Why was he so insistent about the impending
rain? No clouds yet darkened the sky, although the hour sped toward evening
dusk now. But no hint of shadow yet blotted the horizon.
“I can smell it,” he muttered.