Rapunzel (Faerie Tale Collection)
Beauty and the Beast (Faerie Tale Collection)
“Jenni James takes this well loved faerie tale and gives it a paranormal twist. Very well written and hard to put down, even on my cruise vacation where I had plenty to do. Looking forward to others in Jenni's Faerie Tale series. A great escape!”
—Amazon reviewer, 5-star review
The Frog Prince (Faerie Tale Collection)
“…this story provides a fun twist on the original fairy tale. The prince deliberately lets himself be turned into a frog to find out whether his betrothed is the spoiled child he believes -- boy is he in for a surprise.”
—Katharina, Amazon 5-star review
Snow White (Faerie Tale Collection)
“A perfect retelling of Snow White…. I have read all Jenni James Faerie tale books and all are good and well written. And so far Snow White is my favorite. Jenni's version is excellent, staying true the main story. Instead of the seven dwarfs, there are the seven faeries which have names that are significant to the story.
—Dee, Amazon 5-star review
“A Snow White you will LOVE!!”
—Kathy Jo, Amazon 5-star review
Cinderella (Faerie Tale Collection)
“I have read most of Jenni James' fairy tale books and this is my favorite!”
—Amazon 5-star review
“I absolutely LOVE the re-envisioned Faerie Tales that Ms Jenni James writes!!! I am amazed at how she keeps every story true to form but definitely adds her own twist!!!! Cinderella is by far my favorite to date!!! You will find yourself falling in love with the prince right along with our kind and lovely Ella..... The depth of the characters and the way the story flows carries you right along from beginning to end!!! An absolute MUST for every Faerie Tale lover!!!!”
—Wendy, Amazon 5-star review
Faerie Tale Collection:
Beauty and the Beast
Sleeping Beauty
Cinderella
Rumplestiltskin
Hansel and Gretel
Jack and the Beanstalk
Snow White
The Frog Prince
The Twelve Dancing Princesses
Rapunzel
The Little Mermaid
The Jane Austen Diaries:
Pride & Popularity
Persuaded
Northanger Alibi
Emmalee
Mansfield Ranch
Prince Tennyson
Andy & Annie Series:
A Ghost Story
Greeny Meany
This book is dedicated to Chloe, my tangled princess—one whose hair I am so grateful is not forty feet long!
“RAPUNZEL, RAPUNZEL, LET DOWN your hair, that I may climb your golden stair!”
The twelve-year-old girl giggled as she looked down from the fairy house her father, the king, had the gardeners build for her on her eighth birthday. The small home was high in the tree so she could feel like she was flying, just like a fairy. There were two ladders made of rope that led up to the charming wooden abode, but Prince Jonathan liked to tease her. Her hair reached past her feet, and he would say that if she braided it and hung it over the edge, he could climb it instead of the ladders.
“Never! Come up like a true gentleman, or do not come up at all!” she called down to him.
“You are such a spoilsport.” He grinned as he clutched the nearest rope and began to climb up.
“’Tis a good thing you decided to show yourself. I have pastries from Cook up here.” She taunted him with one as she took a large bite, crumbs tumbling to the ground past him. Some even landed on his head, putting chunks of white in his brown hair.
“Princess Rapunzel, I will now eat two for such boorish behavior,” he called up.
“With as slow as you are, they will be all gone before you get here.” She took another bite and quickly ducked inside when he increased his speed up the fifteen rungs or so of the ladder. Opening the small door to the house, she beamed a smile at him as he climbed onto the porch. “Welcome!”
“Ha!” Jonathan brushed his hands upon his trousers. “So, where is mine?” he asked as he looked pointedly at the pastry in her hand.
“Right here.” She took another bite and then giggled when he chased her inside the little place. It was about six feet by eight feet. It had just enough room for two small chairs and a table, a fine old rug, and a collection of older pillows. On the table was the basket with the pastries.
He dug in and began chewing on one while holding up another. “See?” he said around a mouthful. “They are both mine. You cannot claim them.”
“I can, if you continue to drop as many crumbs as this upon my newly cleaned floor!”
“You sound like a fishwife!” He took another bite and plopped down on a cozy section of pillows.
“Me? A fishwife?” She pretended to act scandalized as she sat down next to him, her white skirts spread prettily around her.
“Whot?” He grinned. “Do you not think royalty can act like commoners, then?”
She rolled her eyes. “I do not think the two should ever be compared.”
“Fine.” In an odd moment of seriousness, he straightened his features and said, “Forgive me.”
She waited for the coming quip. Something about him being mistaken—she was not a fishwife, she was more of an ogre—but it never came. Her smile fell and she leaned back, looking into his darkened eyes. “What is it, Jonathan? Is something wrong?”
He shook his head slightly and sighed. “When is anything wrong with me?” He did not look away.
“Never. You are always in perfect spirits.”
“Precisely. So why do you assume something is bothering me now?”
“What is it? Tell me, please.”
He blinked and looked away.
“Jonathan?”
“Would you like another pastry?” he asked.
“No. I would like you to speak to me. Jonathan, ’tis not fair. I share all my secrets with you.”
His gaze met hers and he stared at her for what felt like several minutes. She waited. For once in her chattering existence, she wanted to know, really know, what he had to say. And she did not dare ruin the moment by speaking over him.
Finally, she was rewarded for her persistence.
“I have to go away to school.”
“What?” She felt as though a load of rocks had fallen upon her chest. “When? Why? For how long?”
“I have one week before I am sent off.”
“Jonathan!” She reached for his hand, something she had never done before. She could not bear losing him.
He squeezed her fingers. “I had to come and tell you. I made Father bring us here so I could say good-bye properly.”
“How long will you be gone?”
He looked away then. “I do not know, exactly. It could be years before I see you again.”
She shook her head. “No. No! What about my coming-out ball? You promised me you would be there!”
He glanced back and chuckled. Reaching up, he brushed a lock of her long hair out of her face. “Rapunzel, that is years away. You are only twelve, and I am merely thirteen. It will be fine.”
“Will you be back once I turn sixteen, then? Do you give your word you will dance with me?”
“I hope so.”
Hope. He could only hope. Possibly four years without him? Without his laughter? His wisdom? His larks? What would she do without him?
“You are crying. You cannot cry,” he said gently. “It is good for me to go away to school.”
“No. I wish you to remain stupid and stubborn and all things horrid so that I may have you near me!”
“Listen to yourself. You do not mean it!”
> She brushed at the tears. “You are correct. I cannot mean it. I wish you the best. I always have. I guess I should have realized they would send you away sooner or later. I just did not think about it.”
“I wish I could stay, or take you with me. But I cannot.”
They had been playmates and the best of friends since she was four and he nearly five. They had been inseparable and visited one another as much as possible. They had long wondered if there was some sort of understanding between the two royal families when it came to them, if they were betrothed to one another. But neither of them cared; there was no one else they would wish to be with anyway.
“I have something for you,” he said. “Something to remember me by.”
She did not want a token—she wanted him. But when he pulled out a pretty gold chain with a sapphire butterfly pendant, she gasped. “It is beautiful.”
“Come here so I can put it around you.”
She turned, scooted closer, and held up her long hair. She felt his hands secure the necklace in place.
“Rapunzel?” he asked as she released the mass of curls.
“Yes?”
“We have often wondered if our parents planned for us to marry. And I know this is very sudden and soon . . .” His voice trailed off.
She turned slowly toward him, her heart beginning to lighten and beat strangely within her. “What are you saying?”
He gulped and closed his eyes. “Will you wait for me?”
“Of course.”
“Truly?” He peeked one eye open.
“Yes, I will wait for you.”
A huge burst of air released from him, and he smiled. “Good.”
She grinned. “Good.”
All at once, he leaned forward and kissed her swiftly upon the lips before jumping up. He dashed out of the little house and worked his way down the ladder.
She touched her mouth, marveling at the tingly way her lips felt, before leaping to her own feet and leaning out the window.
He was already to the ground when she called out.
“Jonathan, don’t you dare forget me! You better come back—do you hear?”
He looked up at her. “Even if you were a thousand miles away from here, I would still come back for you. I would find you. You have the Balligryn pendant, after all. And I cannot become king without it!”
“Wait. What?” She held the necklace out. “This?”
He grinned. “Do not ever lose it. My father would slay me.”
And then he ran away, Rapunzel’s heart twisting and jolting and beating like it never had before.
ON HER SIXTEENTH BITHDAY, Rapunzel was out riding, racing the wind, on Bella, her favorite horse. Tomorrow was her coming-out ball—finally. She grinned as she loosened the reins and allowed the beast to run full tilt. Her long hair was wrapped multiple times around itself, the heavy mass lumping against her back, but she didn’t care—it was worth the headache to feel like she was flying.
She knew this field well. It was an old friend of hers, and Bella was such a great sprinter. Rapunzel closed her eyes for a bit and just relished the perfectness of the day. Goodness, she felt nearly old enough to be a woman now. So many things had happened to her, so many handsome beaus to tempt her into smiling at them all. So many dances to accept. Tomorrow was her day, her glorious chance to show the world just who she was and let them know it was time for her to be taken seriously.
After the ride, she brought the horse back to the stables and jumped off. Her hand instinctively reached for the butterfly pendant near her heart. It was still there. She gave a quick prayer of relief that she did not lose it, as she always did, and then scampered into the house.
Immediately upon entering through the side door, she was met by Lottie, her maid. Agitated and wringing her hands the older girl approached.
“What is it?” Rapunzel unbuttoned her riding gloves from about her wrists and slipped them off as she began to climb the servants’ stairs up to her rooms. “Whatever has put you in such a state?”
“Their majesties request your attendance immediately in the throne room,” said the maid as she began to follow her up the steps.
Rapunzel paused in the cramped stone area and looked down at her. “The throne room? Why ever for?”
Lottie shook her head, and then those dark eyes locked with Rapunzel’s for a moment.
“What is it? What will you not tell me?”
She shook her head again. “Just hurry, please. And be sure to dress appropriately.”
“Appropriately? Good heavens!” Rapunzel grumbled under her breath as she climbed the last of the steps and opened the door leading to the elaborate family wing. She was going to have to bathe first and then put on her court attire. Ugh. They must have visitors. She rushed down the hall to her chambers with a frown upon her lips. But why summon her? It made no sense.
As she opened her door, her heart jolted and then suddenly sprang to life. “Of course!” She spun around just as the maid entered behind her. “Jonathan has come! He made it! He made it in time for my birthday. I knew he would. I knew it.” She did not wait to hear Lottie’s response. Instead, she rushed into the bathing room and giggled.
Twenty minutes later, primped, curled to perfection, and looking simply dazzling in her ruffled peach satin and cream lace, Rapunzel entered the grand throne room and elegantly curtsied before her mother and father.
Her smile was wide as she arose, but then quickly dimmed when she realized Jonathan was not there.
“Rapunzel, at last!” her mother exclaimed from her opulent seat. “Come forth, my dear, and meet our guest, Lady Vactryne.”
Her mother’s smile was too bright, her looks too eager as she beckoned a woman from the shadows. Something was wrong. Rapunzel glanced at her father. He immediately looked away.
What was this about?
Taking a couple of steps to the right, toward the awaiting guest, Rapunzel curtsied again, this time much deeper, allowing her mind to sort through the confusion and stress she could feel mounting in the room. As she raised her head, she met the gaze of the intense woman standing before her. Lavishly bedecked in purple velvets and silks, the woman was tall and angular—her sharp eyes were beautifully made up, but crisp and spiteful.
A shudder ran down Rapunzel’s spine.
“So this is your daughter, the princess?” The woman smirked and then said, “She is very lovely.”
Rapunzel glanced at her father again. Still, he would not meet her eyes.
The queen tittered nervously. “Yes, thank you, Lady Vactryne, she is.”
She walked closer to Rapunzel. “And you have named her after the plant you stole from me?” An unexpected cackle arose from the stranger’s throat.
“Y—yes,” her father replied, clearly nervous.
Rapunzel remained silent, not sure what to do.
“Do you remember what you two promised me that fateful night?” came the sinister question.
“We have not forgotten,” said the king. “I still regret it to this day, and humbly beg your apology.” He father stood, his royal robes stirring at his ankles. “Is there something else we can do to repay you?”
Lady Vactryne laughed. “Are you mad? Honestly? I have money. I have lands and houses aplenty. No.” She looked at Rapunzel. “I seek my daughter, my prize.”
Rapunzel took a couple of steps back. “What is this? What is happening?”
“Tell her!” the woman shouted at her parents. “Tell her why I am here!”
The queen flinched, but would not meet Rapunzel’s gaze either. “When I was pregnant with you, I craved rapunzel tea, and your father would bring it to me.”
“I do not understand,” she said as her parents shared a look.
Her mother stood, and the king and queen clasped hands.
Finally her father glanced at her. “There were no rapunzel flowers near the castle, but I had heard of a garden that grew some not far from here, in the neighboring kingdom. At first I sent my men
and attempted to buy the plant, but Lady Vactryne would not sell it. And so, after a fitful night where the queen wept, I rode my steed and climbed the wall of the home myself. I was not thinking clearly then—I was only thinking of your mother. I brought home the first of many bunches, and went back several more nights afterward until eventually there were no more left.
“From her window, Lady Vactryne watched me steal the flowers. I had no idea she knew I was there. And on the last night when I took the rest, she followed me back to the castle and surprised me and your mother as we were having the tea prepared.”
The woman stepped forward. “It was then that we decided to come up with a little way to repay me for all the stealing the king and queen had done.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “And in exchange for their lives,” she smirked at Rapunzel, “I bargained for yours.”
“My life?” Rapunzel felt as though the floor had fallen out from under her. “Is she jesting?” she asked her parents, hoping this was all some bad dream.
“No.” Lady Vactryne cackled, as if this were indeed something to mock. “No, my dear. You are of an age now. And I have come for you.”
Rapunzel’s heart pounded in confusion as she glanced at the king and queen. “Why did you never speak of this before?”
“We had hoped that when the time came for you to leave us, we could plead with Lady Vactryne and keep you with us.”
The woman laughed. Her great, roaring glee filled the whole room until her laughter became more distressed and haunted. Then a sound of anger like Rapunzel had never known shook the chandeliers in the great hall as the woman suddenly shrieked, “Enough, fools! I will accept nothing but the girl. She is mine.” She glared at them all. “And you shall never see her again!”
And then, as if by magic, a long staff appeared in the woman’s hand.
“No!” shouted the king as he began to run down the steps. “You cannot take her! Please, reconsider. Take me in her place.”
Instantly, a great shot of green light flew from the staff and to her father, turning him into stone. Suddenly frozen, the force of the change had his stone form toppling down the last step and then sliding upon the floor near Rapunzel’s feet.