Never After

The Ever After Chronicles

by Jason Robert Macumber

The world of fairy tales is twisted and corrupted. Two years after her entrapment and torture at the hands of the Seven Deadly Trolls, Snow White now works as an assassin for hire. Rude, crude and with her princess status long revoked, she has become a dark angel for the Ever After's damsels-in-distress.

A game of cat and mouse soon begins when two of the Deadlies, Pride and Wrath, return to exact revenge on the fallen princess for the murder of their brothers.

Armed with her trusty dagger carved from the magic mirror, Snow finds herself drawn into a conspiracy that involves an ancient relic from beyond her world's borders and the destruction of her world.

Taking perversion to a whole new level, NEVER AFTER is an estrogen-filled romp to save the Ever After as Snow slices and dices her way through beloved characters leaving no talking animal safe!


I wish I could tell you there was such a thing as a happy ending. Unfortunately, I'd then have to lie and say the boogie man doesn't lurk under the bed, and Santa isn't actually a pagan god who collects the souls of naughty children. The problem with fairy tales is they never were meant to be happy. It wasn't 'till the Big Mouse came along and fucked it all up did the whole “happily ever after” motto become such an everyday norm. Thus, creating a wish in every young girl's heart for a prince and a life where no pain exists.

Sorry to burst your bubble—wishes for a handsome prince and a pain free life are a load of shit. Our lives are just as gritty and dirty. Probably worse.

Everyone believes they know my story. Poor Snow White, whose evil stepmother tried to have a hunter carve her heart out and then poison her with an apple.

But of course no one ever remembers the cursed corset and poisoned comb. God, no. That would make the story too dark, especially when my salvation was found in the home of the ‘sweet’ and ‘gentle’ seven dwarves.

Bullshit. The evil mother part they got right, but she was more like a drunken Joan Crawford from Mommie Dearest. Too much makeup, not enough plastic surgery, and an unhealthy infatuation for wire hangers. As far as my “salvation” with the seven dwarfs is concerned— "dwarf" is too kind of a word. In reality, they were seven trolls known as the Deadlies who lived in a putrid cave even Martha Stewart couldn't fix. And if by “gentle and sweet” you mean two months of constant molestation and torture—well, I would have rather taken my chances with the hunter.

My true salvation came in the form of that blasted poison apple. Two months of sex, blood and torture brought me to a place where living had no real point. I sure did surprise the old hag when I devoured the entire fruit—core and all.

It should have come with a disclaimer.

If I had known it was only a sleeping death, I would have opted for a quick bullet to the head. But no—my “prince” gave me the kiss of true lust and I awoke to a life of more shit.

Truth be told, the first few months were all right. Who wouldn't enjoy a timeshare in the Far and Away Islands along with amazing sex and a Dolce & Gabbana gift basket? But they never write anything past the honeymoon phase. You see, my dear husband loved his liquor, and I wasn't his princess. More like a glorified concubine in his harem of other women whom he enjoyed beating on a daily basis.

Luckily, being a doormat wasn't my style.


Never After



Fairy Tale

? Heat Level: 3