Just when you thought fairy tales couldn’t get any more twisted—or more arousing—along comes Taste My Sweets, the latest tale in my new series, Filthy Fairy Tales for Wicked Grown-Ups.
This isn’t the bedtime story your grandmother told you. In this retelling, Gretel wears a corset engineered for sin (not support), Hansel swings more than an axe, and the witch’s house isn’t just made of candy—it oozes seduction.
What begins as a walk in the woods turns into a feast of forbidden pleasures. We’ve got enchantments and entanglements, bindings made of rope and lust, and a candy-coated cottage where the real treats are tied to the table. Gretel might be looking for thyme, but she finds something far more… carnal. And let’s just say, when she returns to the ruins under moonlight, it’s not for seconds—it’s for the whole damn dessert menu.
Taste My Sweets is a tale of appetite and agency, where sugar hides a bite and happily ever afters are soaked in sweat.
So if you’ve got a craving for fairy tales laced with sin, indulgence, and a little magical mischief, this is your invitation.
Go on. Take a nibble. You know you want to.
Eric Ross