F/F Fantasy Fairytales

It’s Promo Friday! A day to show the world what you’ve got and promote it!

Do you like f/f? Two girls falling in love in a fairy tale with each other instead of a prince?

I’ve got a couple such fairy tales coming out soon, courtesy of Nine Star Press.

The first is Fairest, my previous publication with Prizm Books, returning, reborn and polished up in Once Upon a Rainbow, a collection of LGBTQ+ fairytales.

Fairest is a combination of Sleeping Beauty, Snow White with a dash of Cinderella thrown in for good measure.

Here’s the latest blurb for Fairest…

All of my life, I’ve been haunted by her dark eyes. At birth, she cursed me to prick my finger on the spindle and sleep for a century. She appears in my dreams, my reflections, shaping my desires. Who is she? My guardian has only revealed a few enigmatic words as to her identity, the fairest of them all. Follow me into the lonely Forest of Tears where the dwarves dwell, walking where she once walked. Gaze into the depths of the magic mirror which reveals her secrets. For I refuse to fear her, even if I should.

Here’s an excerpt from its pages…

MY FIRST MEMORY was of her dark eyes. They captured all the colors of my infant universe, even as they threatened to swallow me.

Her eyes should have been terrifying, but they weren’t.

Her blood red lips moved, shaping words I could not recall.

My parents remembered them only too well, as did everyone else who’d gathered at the castle for my christening.

“I, too, have a gift for this child. She shall grow up, with all the beauty and promise of the dawn, but her sun will never rise.”

My mother told me she nearly swooned with terror at the look of sheer malevolence the witch gave to the sunbeams playing about my cradle. She wanted to stop the witch from speaking, as did my father.

No one could move, no matter how much they wished to. Everyone stood still, spellbound by the witch’s gaze.

“Before the sun sets on the eve of her sixteenth year, the princess shall prick her finger on a spindle. With the first drop of her blood, a sleeping curse will fall upon her, claiming her for a hundred years.”

My mother tried to call in another witch to remove the curse. My father burned every spindle he could find.

For all their efforts, nothing could remove the curse.

The witch had disappeared into a cloud of green smoke. No one could find her after my christening, despite many attempts. The only thing she left behind, besides her curse, were dreams of dark eyes.

I wondered if she’d been real. Her appearance was the sort of thing I’d heard about in old legends. The way she haunted my dreams was too much like giggled tales of falling in love.


Fairest and Once Upon a Rainbow are available at…

Nine Star Press: https://ninestarpress.com/product/once-upon-a-rainbow-volume-one/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Once-Upon-Rainbow-Mickie-Ashling-ebook/dp/B0774WM688/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1509900824&sr=8-1&keywords=once+upon+a+rainbow%2C+by+k.s.+trenten

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/once-upon-a-rainbow-volume-one-mickie-b-ashling/1127395428?ean=2940155023067

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/once-upon-a-rainbow


My second f/f fantasy tale, At Her Service, will be making its grand debut in Once Upon a Rainbow 2 on January 18, 2017.

This time, it’s all Cinderella with a gender bending twist. 🙂

Here’s a blurb, telling you what it’s about…

Cinders would much rather fondle her mistress’s bony feet than go to a ball. Magic whisks her away, in spite of herself to a night of lights, dancing, and mystery where she discovers her true heart’s desire. For nothing is what it seems where enchantment, fairy godmothers, and princes are concerned.


Here’s an unedited excerpt…

“Those are the slippers I want.” Those were always the slippers my lady wanted. Sometimes she wore the most uncomfortable things, especially when she was about to attend a ball or party. It was as if she wanted herself to suffer. “Bring them to me.”

I bent over to fish her glass slipper out of the bits of scarf. Once I had it, I tried to extricate the other slipper as gently as I could from the tangled sleeves of another pair of gowns. When I had both slippers in hand, I walked over to my mistress’ chair.

“You know what to do.” She let her voice grow husky.

Of course. This little ritual of putting on her slippers had become second nature to me.

I’d kneel, right before my mistress’ feet. I didn’t dare look at her face, but I could stare at her ankles as long as I wished. They were bony, but the shape of the protruding bone was exquisite.

Every time I looked at it, I wanted to run my fingers over it.

The glass slipper was too small for her foot. I had to work her flesh into the shoe. It’s an art I’ve managed to perfect, over the years. Stroking the arch of her foot, I slide her toes into the slipper. The flesh shivers at my touch, so it wiggles its way into the shoe’s interior. Once it’s there, I tickle her heel, so it quivers its way into the back of the slipper.

It’s a service no other maid can provide. I’m the only one capable of getting those glass slippers on my mistress’ feet. It’s why she keeps me around, even though I’m a terrible servant.


Happy Reading!

Unwilling to Be Yours

It’s QueerBlogWed! A day when many a writer shares a little queerness with the world, brightening the gray with a rainbow.

Alas, the world is very gray for Christopher in the next part of Unwilling to Be Yours. Peter becomes a little grayer himself as he takes a stand against ‘Waiting for Rebirth’ in the next part of Unwilling to Be Yours.

Unwilling to Be Yours is one of three preludes to my novel, Stealing Myself From Shadows. The first was Waiting for Rebirth. This is the second. It’s an ongoing serial I share every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday.

Stealing Myself From Shadows is the first book in my Tarot imagery inspired ambient fantasy series, Tales of the Navel/The Shadow Forest. It’s currently under revision (and my NaNoWriMo project).


“How do you know it trying to trick me?” Christopher demanded. “What gives you the right to pull me back?”

I should have said, “Because I care about you.”

I should have said, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about what was right. When that thing reached out for you, it scared me.”

If only I’d had. I wish I’d said anything other than what I did.

“Of course it was trying to trick you!” I put every bit of conviction I could manage into the words.

I didn’t actually know any such thing, but I was angry. Angry at Christopher’s reaction to my rescue. Angry at how close I’d come to something wild, magical, and scary. Angry that this stupid boy didn’t have the sense to be frightened himself.

“Don’t you understand? There’s nothing good about that painting!” I took a step closer to Christopher, willing authority into my looming shape. “It’s an ugly, twisted piece of surrealism, which can actually reach out and warp reality!”

Silence followed my words.

I almost gulped, wishing I could take the words back.

Christopher stared at me with eyes glittering with pure rage.
“‘Waiting for Rebirth’ is a painting of me.” He kept his voice low and calm, even though every word shook with anger. “It’s a painting of my soul. You see nothing good when you look at it. Maybe there’s nothing good to see.”

His hands trembled, as they balled into fists, as if he had to physically restrain himself from striking me. “I loved what Damian saw in me. It’s why no one can ever take his place.”

He didn’t wait for my reaction. He just turned his back on me and walked out the door. The chimes jangled violently, as it banged behind him.

There was another moment of uncomfortable, guilty silence.

Unwilling to Be Yours

It’s Me Me Monday! A day to promote, strut, and celebrate your Me-ness!

Only Christopher isn’t feeling much like celebrating in the next part of Unwilling to Be Yours.

This second prelude to Stealing Myself From Shadows appears on Mondays (Me Me Monday), Wednesdays (QueerBlogWed), and Saturdays (Rainbow Snippets).

Stealing Myself From Shadows is the first book in my Tales of the Navel/The Shadow Forest. It’s currently under revision (I’m working on it as my NaNoWriMo project).


The light flickered out.

‘Waiting for Rebirth’ was just a painting, again.

‘Brie let out a sigh of relief. Her power calmed, like a wave breaking up. It flowed throughout the store.

The tension leaving the air drew the tension out of me in turn. I echoed ‘Brie’s sigh, relaxing every muscle.

Christopher looked down at my fingers. Gleaming specks glittered with his pupils, giving them an angry glow.

He wrenched his own arm free, shoving me away from him. “Why did you pull me back?”

“What?” I stared at him. “That thing was about to grab you!”

I glanced over at Gabrielle. There was no anger in her face, just a resigned sympathy. “I couldn’t let that happen!”

“That thing was Damian!” Christopher cried. Tears were leaking out of his purple eyes, as he glared at me. “He was reaching out his hand to me, until you banished it!”

“What?” I looked back at the painting.

The white streaks were nothing more than streaks of paint now.

“Nobody was reaching out his hand, Christopher.” I put every bit of conviction I could manage into my words. “That painting was trying to trick you.”

All right, that might be a lie. Whatever reached out from ‘Waiting for Rebirth’ could have come for Christopher.

All the more reason to deny it. If Damian was beckoning Christopher from some sinister place beyond the Door, I wasn’t about to assist him.


Unwilling to Be Yours

Welcome to Rainbow Snippets!

Every Saturday, six sentences of LGBTQ+ fiction are posted and shared. They can be your own. They can be someone else’s. They just need to be LGBTQ+.

To read a wide variety of samples from LBGTQ+ stories, go here…


Mine picks up where it left off on Wednesday (#QueerBlogWed) right after Gabrielle’s failed attempt to confront the power rising from ‘Waiting for Rebirth’ in Unwilling to Be Yours. (Unwilling to Be Yours is the second prelude to Stealing Myself From Shadows, the first book in my Tales of the Navel/The Shadow Forest series. Stealing Myself From Shadows is my NaNoWriMo project which I’m currently revising.)


I reached out to grab Christopher’s arm. Without thinking about the consequences, I pulled him back from the painting.

The wind hissed at me.

The white hand cracked, shattering into a pile of bones. They scattered and disappeared into the abstract colors and shapes of the canvas.

All of the white brush strokes glowed with with a final, menacing pulse.


Promo Friday: Seven Tricks

It’s Promo Friday, a custom I slunk away from for a while, since I was forced to ask for the rights back of everything I had published.

I’m happy to say I have occasion to celebrate it again, for I have upcoming releases!

Here’s a little blurbiness about Seven Tricks, my upcoming Mouse Prince/Nutcracker holiday tale. Yes, it’s my own version of The Nutcracker from the mouse’s perspective, inspired by both the San Jose Ballet Company version and A.T.A. Hoffman’s classic, The Nutcracker and the Mouse King.

Seven Tricks will be released on November 27, 2017.


Some say a mouse king has seven heads. Hah, trust a human to get our legends wrong. A mouse prince must perform seven tricks before the twelve days of Christmas are up. It’s how he wins his crown, but I’ve got my whiskers set on something else. A stiff beauty with a magnificent jaw, waiting for me under the holiday shrub. I caught his scent in a dream, which I’ve been sniffing after ever since. Scamper with me through my adventures and misadventures, dodging traps, cats, and giants, while I win a steadfast nutcracker’s heart.

Unwilling to Be Yours

It’s QueerBlogWed…actually it’s the early hours of Wednesday where I’m at.

NaNoWriMo has begun. The month of November during which I’ve made a commitment to try to revise 50 thousand words of Stealing Myself From Shadows.

All these things are on my mind as I pick Peter and everyone up at the Navel, continuing to play out the terrifying scene which is happening in Unwilling to Be Yours, my second prelude to Stealing Myself From Shadows.

Reality is about to get shaken up.


Those pitiless streaks of white was stronger than any other brushstroke. Each burned brightly in beams of sunlight, coming through the window. Reality tried to temper the magic, but the spell was too strong.

The humming was getting louder. It was almost like a song and an intimate whisper at the same time.

Christopher reached out a hand, almost longingly, towards a bunch of gleaming white cracks. No, branches. No, fingers. These fingers were part of a skeletal hand. This hand was reaching out for Christopher’s.

“No!” Gabrielle’s denial was like thunder. Her power rose, hissing at the cracks in defiance, as she raised her hands. “You won’t take my son!”

A soft laugh, one voice, yet many voices filled the air. It was the wind, the breeze, and laughter all at the same time.

“He’s not truly your son, ‘Brie.”

Gabrielle flinched, as if she’d been struck. I could feel her power wavering, its planned strike losing energy.