She didn't wait for a fairy godmother. She had a wrench.
Cindy Moreau was a tomboy mechanic who could rebuild a V12 engine and flip a man twice her size - right up until the night she died, too fast, at midnight, on a hill.
She wakes up as Cindra Ashwick: the murdered heir of a noble house, buried in its records and raised as its lowest servant. No magic words. No glass slippers handed down from the sky. Just a girl with grease under her nails, a stepmother who owns her, and a ball she has no business attending.
So she builds her own way in.
A pumpkin carriage that runs on a bound engine and never expires. A pair of shoes that look like jewelry and are secretly built to run in. A disguise so flawless even the Crown Prince can't look away. Cindra has decided, very privately, that she is done being told to sit still - and that anything a fairy godmother can conjure, a good mechanic can simply make.
But miracles leave fingerprints. And when a servant girl's impossible carriage rolls through the kingdom like a tremor, certain men in plain robes begin, quietly, to ask a dangerous question: who built it?
She came to the ball to escape one life. She's about to become the most hunted girl in the kingdom.
Cinderella, if Cinderella had a workshop and a grudge. Volume One of the Cinderjack series - a sharp, funny, slow-burn romantasy for readers who like their heroines clever, their banter dry, and their fairy tales rebuilt from the frame up.
