Welcome to FUMBLED FAIRY TALES!

Fumbled Fairy Tales:

They’re Anything but Grimm!

An Introduction to Chaos

By 

Dorothy Callahan

Copyright © 2026 by Dorothy Callahan

All rights reserved.

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.

Published by: Somerwynd Services 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual people (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

Cover by: Darleen Dixon

It was amazing that hundreds of years of tradition could unravel in a matter of minutes. At 3 PM, Elder Librarian Beatrice Merriweather poured herself a cup of tea, just like she did every single day at this time. She added two sugar cubes and exactly four teaspoons of fresh cream, then stirred her cup four times to the left, then four times to the right. She decided to take her tea on the upstairs balcony overlooking her library, since the sun was shining and hopefully the unicorns were grazing below the solarium’s window. She wiggled her shoulders to loosen her wings, then flitted straight up, over the railing, and alighted next to her favorite chair overlooking the meadows. Her wings folded crisply against her back, and Beatrice smiled as she sipped her tea and perched on her overstuffed seat. As she’d hoped, the unicorns were there. Rainbows spilled from their glistening coats wherever the sun struck their fur, tempting leprechauns to slide down the colorful arches into pots of gold hidden in the long grasses.

She hummed as the fragrant tea heated her cheeks. Around her, the scent of old, old volumes wafted in the breeze. As Elder Librarian to the Realm of Fairy Tales, Beatrice took her role of guarding the Tome of the Tales seriously. Beloved stories like the ones on the pedestal below her were sacred. The door to the library was always locked. Ancient spells prevented any fairy, creature, fire or inclement weather from touching the Tome. The first two even required her express consent. Beatrice would not even sip her tea near the Tome for fear of disrupting the stories, as any outside influence could affect the characters. Imagine if Rapunzel’s tower got flooded with spilled tea? Without the spell, what would happen if a giant butterfly landed on Jack’s beanstalk and snapped it in half? The outcome would devastate fairy tales for generations.

A gentle breeze rustled the pages of the Tome, and Beatrice watched a page flip with anticipation. When unattended, the stories came to life, filling her library with sounds from their tales. As she watched, Rapunzel’s hair tumbled over the pedestal to the floor, and when the wind turned another page, a wicked stepmother’s evil laugh carried to her. Another flip, and breadcrumbs sprung out one by one as Hansel tried laying a return path for him and his sister to follow home. And as always, a heroine’s lovely song carried to her ears.

Cherished. Cherished and unchanged for hundreds of years, the way they were intended.  

A hard knock on the wooden door beneath her had Beatrice frowning. No one was scheduled to visit today. She set her teacup on the saucer and flitted to the lower level.

“Who is it?”

“Sarnak.”

Her breath backed up on her as she whipped open the door. “Sarnak.” She hastily dropped into a curtsey.

The leader of the Elders inclined his chin in greeting. “Beatrice Merriweather. Nice to see you again.”

“Come in, come in.” She made way for him. “May I pour you some tea?”

He shook his head and indicated a young woman who’d been standing behind him. “I would like to introduce you to my daughter, Winfrey Soleil.”

“Daughter?” Oh, dear, she shouldn’t have said that. It was none of her business that the Head Elder had a child no one was aware of. “How... how nice to meet you.”

“’Sup? Nice digs.” Winfrey ambled into the room, past Beatrice’s second curtsey of the day, ignoring her in favor of scanning the walls of books. “Whoa. Why are they so tiny?”

“To fit them all, of course,” Beatrice said, still hunched. “Millions of books are in here.”

“Winfrey,” Sarnak said in warning, and his daughter caught her breath and whirled to face Beatrice.

“Oh, sorry. No need to bow. Curtsey. Whatevs. We’re good.”

Sarnak let out a restrained breath that barely covered his grumble.

Inhaling as she was released from her reduced position, Beatrice recovered and asked, “What brings you to the library?”

“Glad you asked,” Sarnak answered for Winfrey. “My daughter’s mother is human—”

Beatrice caught an excited breath, already cataloguing the questions she would ask.

“—and therefore she has had little knowledge of our existence. Her mother and I agreed that at age sixteen, she would come here to experience a bit of my world. Our world. At eighteen, she can choose where she’d like to live. I’d like you to show her around.”

“Around? You mean, here?” Libraries were for silence and reflection, not tours.

“Everywhere. Anywhere. She was raised to believe that unicorns, mermaids, dragons, griffins, everything, are all myths. You are the most qualified fairy I know, and I’d like you to teach her about our world though the myriad of books you have here. She is so uneducated.”

“Seriously? I’m right here. I can hear you.”

The girl’s tone had Beatrice trembling. This human was unlike anyone she’d ever met, and though she was terribly curious about her, being the official babysitter to the Head Elder’s only (only?) child terrified her.

“Whoa! Are these the original fairy tales?”

A horrified cry escaped Beatrice when she saw Winfrey— a human!—holding the Book. “Please! Set it down!” Of all the magical oversights! Why had the Ancients not protected the Tome against humans?

Winfrey glanced up from the volume. “Chill. I’m just looking.”

Jolts of worry clogged Beatrice’s throat. She wanted to glance at Sarnak for help but didn’t dare. The human flipped page after page, glancing at the glorious illustrations and skipping over the perfect script.

“Nice pics. Thing about fairy tales, though, is they’re all so fake.”

Oh, dear, was Beatrice about to faint? What was this lightheaded feeling otherwise?

Sarnak chuckled and headed back for the door. “See what I mean? Good luck.”

“Bye, Pops,” Winfrey said as the door automatically locked behind him. “Seriously, though. All these girls pining after men whose only redeeming quality is they have a castle? They’re all damsels in distress, awaiting a man to save them from themselves. So last gen.”

“No, that’s not—”

“It is. Snow White, saved by a prince. Cinderella, saved by a prince. Sleeping Beauty, saved by a prince... who kissed her while she was sleeping. Can we talk about consent here? How entitled can a guy get?”

Palpitations preceded heart attacks, right? Or was this a panic attack? How did one tell the difference? Beatrice didn’t know how much more she could take. Winfrey had to set that book down—gently!—before anything happened to it. “P-please. Just, just set it back down.”

“I mean,” Winfrey said, clearly ignoring her, “none of the girls can even fight their way out of a cardboard box. They just sit there and wait to be rescued. That’s not how life works.”

Almost there, Beatrice thought as she eased closer. She spread out her hands, ready to cradle the book and set it carefully back onto its pedestal. “But that’s how fairy tales work.”

“Maybe they shouldn’t.” Winfrey raised her brow in a devilish look. “Maybe what these tales need is a Good. Shaking. Up.” And she shook the book hard in time to her words.

The floor slammed into Beatrice’s knees as her jaw dropped. All measure of hope fled from her chest at that moment. The book was silent. Had it ever once been silent?

Raising her eyes to Winfrey, Beatrice whispered, “What have you done?” 

BELLA AND THE BULLFROG: BEAUTY MEETS THE FROG PRINCE

FUMBLED FAIRY TALE

FIRST IN SERIES

When the master book of fairy tales is shaken by a wayward human, the stories within are thrown into chaos — and Bella’s quiet village is the first to feel the consequences.

Instead of taming a cursed beast hidden inside a crumbling castle, Bella finds herself hurled thousands of leagues from home. Worried over her sick father but bound by her own concern over a beleaguered, talking bullfrog, Bella grants the creature two days of her help. Imagine her surprise when the frog turns out to be a prince transformed—quite unfairly—by a scheming enchantress. The threads of his fate are now tangled with hers, and breaking the curse will require more than a simple kiss.

As fragments of other fairy tales bleed into their world, Bella must rely on her wit, her compassion, and the strength of her own heart to see this through. The frog-prince who deserves her help may be proud, stubborn, and inconveniently small — but beneath the enchantment lies a man who sees beyond her beauty and is determined to earn her love rather than simply claim her.

Opposites in every way, this couple must overcome class differences, expectations, rank and enchantments if they are ever to find their way to Happy Ever After.

Because in this fumbled tale, love is not chosen by decree.

It is won by sacrifice, humility… and finding the humanity in us all.

Bella and the Bullfrog is a damaged prince, optimistic heroine, forced proximity fairy tale set in a medieval European town. Achieving their Happy Ever After means discovering self-grit and determination, overcoming stereotypical roles and parental expectations, finding found family, and seeing beyond what the eye normally sees. 

THE FUMBLED FAIRY TALES SERIES is a collection of reimagined stories by authors who turn fairy tales on their heads to deliver stories that speak to the heart. Inside, you’ll discover bold heroines and unforgettable characters who refuse to wait for rescue, choosing instead to find their own way to a well-deserved Happy Ever After.