Princess Poppy Little Novels & Stories

Damien's POV The first time I met Lisa Armstrong, it was at a movie theater, where we had both gone to see The Little Mermaid. Her auburn hair was styled in a bun, atop a head that stood out on the female dominated queue seeking to buy popcorn, with a white cashmere dress that hugged her willowy waist and flared to the top of her knees and black heeled boots. Even from behind, with a guy on a baseball cap situated between us, the outfit was cute as hell. But her sling purse was slightly open, and a wallet was peeking out. And the guy in front of me who maybe thought I wasn't paying attention had already swiped the wallet, and made it disappear through his front pocket.

All she wanted to do was pee, grab a pop, and head up the stairs to her room. By the time she returned to the kitchen, it had cleared out, and Beth was relieved. She pulled a Dr. Pepper out of the fridge, inspecting it to make sure it wasn’t her father’s preferred Dr. Thunder, and headed for the stairway. The door was closed, and she pulled it open slowly, hoping it didn’t creak and disturb the slumbering princesses. The noise was subtle enough not to bring her mother out to investigate.

Me- Ryan, What's up? Ryan- Hi Princess, You home? He said over the phone. Me- Yeah, sure. Ryan- Can I come over?

Forget space travel—explain the Tupperware phenomenon! Speaking of space, let’s imagine aliens. Not the scary, slimy kind, but the kind that lands here, looks around, and says, “You people pay money to watch other humans eat food online? You invented planes but still argue about pineapple on pizza? And you call your leader a Prime Minister even though they’re rarely first at anything?” The aliens would probably just leave, shaking their green heads in disbelief.

A crescent moon had begun to rise above the western spire. Then the trumpets sounded. Caelan appeared first. He wore full ceremonial armor, burnished black and trimmed in crimson. His crown sat heavy on his brow. He looked every bit the Alpha King—distant, cold, powerful. He didn’t look at her. And then Seraphina. She was radiant. A gown of ivory and moon-silk clung to her, shimmering with spells. Her hair fell in gold waves, crowned with white flame orchids. Her smile was perfect, her step light.

I smiled at the eyes wide open honey pie in front of me and began reading, as slowly as I could. “Once upon a time, in a faraway land where fireflies surrounded the land… and added to its beauty. A princess was born. She had the most beautiful golden eyes, which matched the color of the fireflies. And they loved her as much as she loved them.” “Due to her love for them, she was nicknamed after them. Her name soon became Firefly Priscilla. Though long and funny, The Little Princess loved her name.”