“Times are tough.” She rasped, dropping the coins into her pocket for safekeeping.
“Indeed.” He agreed solemnly, putting his hat back on his head with as much dignity as he could muster. “Most unfortunate… most unfortunate.” He began to walk through the underbrush the man had staggered through, curious to see what had caused the man’s sad arrow-riddled fate. Rationally, he should have continued down the road and not gone looking for trouble, but Uriah had never been one to shy away from the unexplored or the potentially deadly.
A pirate enterprise without the possibility of danger was simply a cruise line.
“I’m afraid that our current foray into sampling the varied delinquencies of terra firma has not been as lucrative as you and I might have desired.” He held back a tree limb so that she didn’t walk into it. “I feel that our true aptitudes remain, as ever, with piracy on the eternal seas.”
“Long swim.” She reminded him emotionlessly, following behind as he continued exploring the narrow side trail the dead man had stumbled down, feeling her way with her cane.
“Point taken, Dove.” He nodded somberly, acknowledging the criticism. “Without a proper craft, it would be difficult to make a joyous homecoming to our former profligate lifestyle.” He firmed his jaw, deciding on his course of action. “I mean to recover the Whore.” He announced. “It is my vessel and I will free her from her present ignominious status as captive of darker souls and lesser men.” He stopped in his tracks and was silent for a moment. “I will understand if you wish to forgo my new undertaking however. You are under no obligation to join me in this pursuit and will obviously retain your position on the crew, no matter the outcome.”
They were both quiet for several breaths.
“Like you said,” she finally decided softly, “if we go, we’ll go together.”
He nodded, utterly pleased with how well that had gone. Given their… troubled history with the craft in question, he had expected more of an argument from her. He couldn’t keep the smile from crossing his face, despite their current low circumstances.
“Excellent. As always, your presence is both desired and desperately necessary, Dove.” He heaved a sigh of relief. “Sadly, I don’t think our former benefactors in this kingdom have any intention of ever paying us our true worth, which will make funding such a recapture operation difficult.”
“And our reward ran away.” She reminded him.
“Oh, will you drop it already?” He snapped. “Goat had every right to his freedom and whether we sold him or ate him, we’d still be broke and hungry now.” He began to stroll from the scene again. “No, the blame for this falls squarely on the oversized shoulders of our last clients. They were simply too focused on themselves to ever consider the fact that you and I are in dire straits financially.”
“Selfish.” She agreed.
“They were. They really were.” He heaved a put-upon sigh. “Especially the girl. That is the problem with your entire sex, Dove. They all become distracted from what matters because they have no sense of proportion. One minute they’re…” He paused for a moment, realizing that she hadn’t moved from her original spot in the path and was waiting for him. He quickly trotted back to retrieve her, putting his arm around her waist to guide her over the uneven ground. “Mustn’t fall behind, Dove. What would people think if they saw a beautiful young woman alone in this kind of neighborhood? Why, it’s positively indecent.” He started to lead her from the scene and made a calm little surprised sound to draw her attention. “Oop, mind the corpses, Dove.” He gently steered her around the bodies which began to litter the area, so that she didn’t trip. “Now where was I? Oh yes, the problems with your gender. I tell you, it’s all about proportion. One moment you’re rational creatures, and the next, you’re throwing yourselves after self-immolating giants and ignoring the essentials of life in this world. There is no middle ground with your sex, and that’s no way for a rational creature to behave. I mean, we were loyal and steadfast in our employment with her, but instead of thanking us and recognizing our contributions, she discards us so that she could throw her life away on that giant. If she wanted someone to assist her in ruling her kingdom, we would have been much better candidates for that position and even she must realize that.” He shook his head sadly, then walked ahead several steps so that he could turn and look at her. “I ask you: why do women do the things they do, Dove? Can you please explain to me why your sex acts so self-destructive and pestilential to their own happiness? They have what they want right in front of them, why would they throw all that away?”
Silence.
“They’re afraid.” She finally whispered.
“What could they possibly be afraid of? They…” He stopped in his tracks, his mouth hanging open in amazement as he stared at the scene before them.
Ransom walked straight into him, not expecting him to stop abruptly. “Ow!” She pushed him in irritation. “Learn to walk, ‘Rai!”
Around them in the small glen were half a dozen bodies surrounding an overturned wagon and its cargo. Several chests had tumbled from the wagon and their contents were spilled across the grass and leaves.
Gold coins and gemstones.
“What?” His partner asked, unable to see their windfall. “What is it?” Her hand slipped to the blade hidden at her waist. “We in trouble?”
“Quite the contrary, for once.”
“I’m a terrible guesser, ‘Rai.” She snapped. “Wanna help me out here?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, it seems we have stumbled upon a portion of the royal treasury which the Baselanders looted, Dove. A treasury which I suppose now belongs to our very dear and newly royal friends, and which will no doubt be so desperately needed to rebuild their shattered capital.” He pursed his lips in thought, a plan forming. “If we were to return this misplaced wealth to them, perhaps they would see fit to reward our honesty with a share, before using the remainder to bring solace and comfort to their poor tragic people.” He looked over at her for a ruling. “They would undoubtedly be very appreciative of such a gesture, especially given our recent quarrels. It would be an excellent way of reaffirming our continued dependability and opening up an avenue for additional financial benefits from them in the future.” He gestured to the chests, more for his own benefit than hers. “Our best course of action?”
She considered that for a long moment. “Let’s steal it all.” She decided.
He grinned ear to ear. “Dove, once again you and I are of a similar mind on a matter.” He put his arm around her. “Blood and treasure.”
She rested her head against his chest. “Blood and treasure, Uriah.” She let out a long breath, like she was relieved or relaxing. “Blood and treasure.”
He took the opportunity to enjoy the smell of his partner’s hair. Their lifestyle allowed them very few creature comforts, but she somehow always managed to find the most delightful hair products and mysterious compounds whenever they were in port or town. He wasn’t sure if it was shampoo or soap or perfume or all three, but whatever it was, her purchases produced the most intoxicating fragrance. Like fruit and springtime and flowers and everything in this world which was soft and clean and beautiful and eternally denied to him. It was an utterly feminine smell, not really in keeping with his partner’s usual role, and it always drove him mad. He found it more than just exceedingly erotic, it was almost spiritual in its uplifting affect.
It made him feel like he could conquer this whole goddamn world.
Typically he didn’t really get close enough to her to notice, both because that wasn’t the nature of their relationship and because of his partner’s own personal space issues, but he cherished the rare occasions when he got the opportunity. It was one of his few joys in life; reminding him that despite the fact that his life was completely dependent upon her presence, assistance, and guidance, she was still so delicate and beautiful that it made his chest hurt. Everything in his life was harsh and tough and he had to fight for it. I
t had always been that way. From his earliest memories, his life had been a violent, dirty, struggle to survive. Covered in mud and blood. Fearing the night and the darkness inside himself. But at this moment, her friendship and the intoxicatingly alluring smell of her hair was his; casually given freely by her without recognizing the fact that it was the only pure thing in his grimy soiled world.
He had thrown away his entire life for her. Everything he was, everything he ever had, and everything he ever wanted to be.
He had tossed it aside. Laid down all his joys in this world.
And he had no regrets about that. It was the best decision he had ever made.
Because she was the only thing that mattered.
She was everything.
From the second he first saw her, she was everything.
And now standing here, for one moment, he allowed himself to forget about the fact that she didn’t want him and never would. Forget about his unforgivable failure and the nightly terrors it brought. Forget about the fact that they were apparently being hunted by several different kingdoms and would doubtlessly be hanged as pirates soon.
For the first time in as long as he could remember, things were exactly as he’d want them to be.
It was… perfect.
His smile spread even wider, once again delighted with his life and the choices he had made. Because they had all led to this moment. With her. And his new piles of gold.
“Ah, piracy. You can spend a fortune, but you can’t spend a trade.” He turned his head to look back at his crew as they hacked their way through the underbrush behind him. “Spoils were good today, lads!” He pointed at the chests. “Mr. Dobbs? Load it all up!” His smile turned to one of anticipation as he thought about his missing ship. “We’re going home.”
Author’s Note/Commentary on book
Overeducated and underemployed, Elizabeth (“Lizzy”) lives in Florida with her sister Cassandra Gannon (who is also an author). She enjoys comic books, soap operas, and reading. She has always been the type of person who genuinely votes for the bad guys in movies, TV and video games, and usually can’t stand the hero.
This book is the sequel to the prequel to the standalone book I wrote several years ago, The Snow Queen. At the time, I had no real intention of doing anything else with that book’s “world” and really didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to the “rules” of their universe. Despite this though, I stuck in a couple references to Baseland and the antagonist of that book’s unnamed brother, who sometimes reportedly lived there. Then I forgot about it for a year or so.
Eventually, I came up with a plot for what the brother could be doing in Baseland, using an idea which actually predates the Snow Queen. I wrote that for a while, calling it “The Man Who Beat-Up Prince Charming” and got a little over halfway through it when I realized that its story was taking place in the wrong era. The central male lead, Varner, kept mentioning a war Baseland had just fought and the troubles it caused, and it occurred to me that the war itself was a more interesting topic than the aftermath.
And once that realization was made, the book became stalled. Because if I wrote the epilogue to the war, and had already written Snow Queen which takes place before the war, there was really no way I’d ever get to write the actual war. Unless I planned the whole thing out ahead of time, anyway, which I’d never actually stick to, even if I wanted to.
And so The Man Who Beat-Up Prince Charming sat for about a year; a minimized window at the bottom of my desktop, mocking me with my failure.
Until one day, I was watching a fantasy movie, and there was a giant monster thing which was made of fire attacking the heroes. And I really liked that idea. It brought to mind a fairytale giant, which in turn brought to mind The Brave Little Tailor. And the story was born.
I still don’t particularly like the characters’ names though. The problem is that growing up, my sister used to write stories to keep us entertained. Epic multigenerational tales of one huge extended family and their many crazy exploits. And generally, I always avoid using the names of those characters in my own work, because to me, those characters are those names. In this case though, there’s simply no other name Taylor can be but “Taylor.” Originally, I named her “Tobi” trying to avoid the confusion, but it never sat right with me because it ignored the obvious “Taylor/Tailor” pun. I got about halfway through the book with that name though, still debating the issue. But then we named our puppy Toby, which pretty much eliminated it from contention. The same goes for “Dom.” Well, not that we named our puppy “Dom,” just that it is also a name she used for a very memorable character in her unpublished series. But that’s just the name my character has. I wanted to change it, I really did. But it wouldn’t change. So, whatever. She can sue me. ;)
Personally, I feel like this story should have stuck a little closer to the original fairytale, but that’s just not a romance novel narrative, sadly. I couldn’t make it work. I really wanted to somehow at least use the whole “squeezing water from a stone/cheese” thing, since that’s really the only part of the story anyone knows, but it just requires such an extensive setup that I would have had to dedicate a whole lot of pages to get us there, and even then, it would come off as contrived and not especially romantic. Watery cheese rarely is, to be fair. So, I dropped that idea and just used the basic “tailor meets giant and goes to the capital where (s)he becomes the ruler of the land” idea and ignored the various feats of cunning the tailor in the fairytale goes through. If anyone can think of a good way to do more of the fairytale’s feats of cleverness effectively though, without changing the essential elements of this book, please feel free to drop me a line and tell me how. You’re smarter than me if you can. :)
Taylor is based very loosely on the actual fairytale character, who is always portrayed as clever. He succeeds because he plans things out ahead of time and is never afraid of the terrifying things which surround him. He’s all about guile and boldness. The tailor is in control of that story, from start to finish. So, I tried to give Taylor some of that too.
Dom is based on a fantasy monster; a beast best handled with a chain. The giant in the fairytale isn’t an especially well-rounded character, so I basically did my own thing with him. I enjoy his casual dismissal of most of the people and places around him.
The book was written almost entirely in order, with the exception of some sequences which I wrote early and then caught up with. Nothing too major though.
I began the book… I want to say… in November/December 2014 and wrote the first 45,000 words in the first three days. Over the next six months, I only wrote another 15,000 words of it total. Finally, I finished it off over four nights in July 2015. 1AM to 11AM writing sessions, because that’s simply when I could write (I’m currently finishing up the last one, and I miss the sun, by the way). So, it took me awhile to get finished, but the writing itself went quickly once the characters started “talking” to me again. And to be fair, I also finished off “Mad Scientist’s Guide to Dating” during that same time period, so it wasn’t just me being lazy.
Alternate titles: “Best Handled with a Chain,” and “Tailor-made Giant.”
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Please feel free to email me if you have any questions or comments about the book, series, characters, life in general, or just feel like chatting about other Star Turtle books: [email protected]. I actually do answer all of my email, so while I can’t guarantee my answer will make any sense, you will receive one.
Thanks for reading! Hopefully I’ll see
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Sneak Peek!
As a special bonus, I present the first chapters from the next book in this series: Nobody Likes Fairytale Pirates!
Prologue
“Now and then we had a hope that if we lived and were good, God would permit us to be pirates.”- Mark Twain, Old Times on the Mississippi (1875)
The 11th Year of The War of Gold and Silver
“Why are people always trying to kill me?” Captain Uriah wondered aloud, not for the first time. “Nobody likes me. I just don’t understand it.”
Beside him, his partner and quartermaster, Ransom, leaned against the side of the building. “You don’t?” She sounded surprised. “Really? Because I’d be happy to start listing reasons for you, if you want.” She began counting them off on her fingers. “You’re demanding of attention, manipulative, and easily bored. You’re a thief. You double-cross people a lot. You have anger issues. You’re a self-important pompous braggart. You chew with your mouth open when you’re really hungry. Your clothes are fifty years out of fashion. You…”
“I get the idea, thank you.” He interrupted.
Ransom was always so negative.
You could say a lot of things about his partner in literal crime, but being an encouraging and optimistic person wasn’t one of them.
He made a face at her, an action lost on the woman because of her blindness. As was usual however, she still somehow knew what he was doing.
Travels With a Fairytale Monster Page 34
