Don’t worry, though, because Prince Hubert is very handsome and kind. That’s all you wanted in a boyfriend, wasn’t it?” “No,” I said. She raised an eyebrow. “It must be. If you had admired any other qualities you would have developed them in yourself, wouldn’t you?” Which was really too much. I put my hands on my hips. “Aren’t fairy godmothers supposed to be nice and make you feel better about yourself?” She rolled her eyes. “No, you’re confusing fairy god- mothers with sales clerks.

Perhaps I wasn't going crazy after all. Perhaps I was just becoming a writer.

Well you can't believe everything you read. After all, by definition, fiction writers lie for a living.

I can't believe you just did that! Are you crazy?" I gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Why do people keep asking me that?" He turned to stare at me, his eyes worried. "Who else keeps asking you that? Are any of them doctors?

Madame Bellwings, Memoir Elf Coordinator, was not at all pleased with this request, because elves who write the memoirs of teenage girls have the habit of returning to the magical realm with atrocious grammar. They can't seem to shake the phrases "watever" and "no way," and they insert the word like into so many sentences that the other elves start slapping them...and for no apparent reason occasionally call out the name Edward Cullen.

I bet you Cinderella didn't get along with Prince Charming's friends. Oh sure, the knights and barons probably put up with her on account that she was pretty and had such dainty feet and all, but you should know every duchess and contess in the kingdom hated her guts.

"Women," he said in disgust. I wasn't sure whether we was referring to me or nuns.