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 were not.
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.”
Second, there is 'At Her Service', which is all Cinderella with a gender bending twist. Here's an teaser from its pages.
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.