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Playing with Fire

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My story will have a happy ending.

Now, given the fact that I’m all trussed up in chains by the majestic Samuel Winchester, no doubt your mind is going to some very naughty places. But, while I’m admittedly the kind of lady that doesn’t mind an occasional indulgence with less conventional kinks, that’s not the kind of happy ending I’m talking about.

No, I’m talking the fairy tale sort. The kind that resolves with a forever and permanent happily-ever-after.

What’s with that skepticism? Don’t believe me? Well, you can’t entirely be blamed, I suppose. Likely, you’ve been raised on stories where only innocent princesses and doey-eyed maidens are rewarded in the end.

But that’s a lie.

That’s right, my darlings. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you need to be beautiful and wholesome and from a princely family and the recipient of a noble prince’s kiss to earn yourself eternal bliss. The secret the world doesn't want to let us all in on is this:

All you need is you.

So kick Hans Christian to the gutter, and don’t put your faith in the Brothers Grimm. In fact, stay clear of brothers in general.

They tend to be a mighty pain in the ass.