Excerpt:

Once upon a time and long ago there was a princess by the name of Cyntia Esmerelda Rosette Gizelle Wonderful Darling Beloved Fairy Heart Moonbeam Beauty Belle, and she was loved by all. Well, she was loved by almost all.

But even Sleeping Beauty, who was who she eventually became, could have nightmares.

You want to know something?

All of that was a lie. Seriously. All of it. You don't want to know how much I've decieved you in the short time we've known each other, and I'm not sure that I want you to know either because you would simply think all the less of me because of all of this.

The story that I'm going to tell you is about a princess, but it's not simply about one princess, and it is about a man with red eyes and blood on his hands and a wicked grin that says he likes it all. It is a story of mystery and intrigue and love and romance and hate and a curse and the breaking of that curse. It is a story about simple people doing extrodinary things, though the simple people in the story are outnumbered by those who have to do extrodinary things after already being extrodinary, though the things that they have to do are different then the things that they thought they'd have to do in the first place.

People born to greatness don't always perform the great deeds that they thought they'd perform in the first place, after all, quite often it's exactly what they thought but sometimes it is something different altogether. This is the story of a few of these people, who had the unexpected thrown at them and behaved, for the most part, in a remarkably decisive and lovely sort of way that befit them.

Well, most of them.

But what would life and the adventure I'm supposed to be telling you be without that sort of thing to liven things up, hm? Exactly.

So here's the story that is odd, and not quite as expected, and in which I have little more idea of what's going to happen then you do at the moment.

Never mind all that.

Let's find out together, shall we? But don't forget as you do so that none of this is real - none of anything is real except for now, and this didn't happen now.

Yesterday is but a dream, tomorrow is but an imagining. Don't forget that as you read.