Who Stole Cinderella's Shoe? -

This is an exciting day! As you may have heard, I have an upcoming book in Celebrate Lit’s Ever After Mysteries series. You will love this collection of fairytale-inspired mysteries set in the 1920’s! My book, Murder at the Empire, won’t be released until October 5 (although you can preorder it HERE), but the first one in the series, The Last Gasp by Chautona Havig, is available TODAY!

To celebrate the release, the Ever After authors are doing a short blog hop, complete with a mini-mystery story and prizes. I get to go first, telling the story of Cinderella’s Missing Shoe. (Spoiler Alert: I don’t have it!) Every day this week, another author will share her part of the story!

Who stole Cinderella’s Shoe?

I’ve always been a rule-follower. I don’t steal things. I don’t even covet things. At least, I never did before, until I saw The Shoe.

I still don’t know what came over me. I’ve visited art museums and seen many beautiful things in my life. The Empire movie palace is filled with amazing and exotic treasures, and none of them ever tempted me. It wasn’t until John Starek – the Emperor himself – showed me his latest discovery that I let myself be lured into a life of crime.

I hadn’t realized that the genuine thing – Cinderella’s actual glass slipper – would be so much more exquisite than all the copies and photographs I’d seen. I’d expected something more substantial – maybe even a wedge heel. After all, the woman danced in it until midnight and then lost it, running – running! – down a staircase.

This shoe – this glass bauble – has a perfect, elegant, three-inch spike heel. The crystal rosette on the toe sparkles like it’s been freshly Windexed, and the graceful curve of the arch is the acme of tarsal engineering. It seems impossible that such a fragile bit of glass could support the weight of a woman.

I had to have it.

John’s a nice boy. Much too young to have the responsibility of owning the biggest movie palace in Chicago, though, as evidenced by his careless handling of priceless works of art. Treasures like The Shoe should be put away safely in vaults – preferably mine – instead of on display in the theater foyer, hallways, and lounges. It’s his own fault if a few of them go missing. So, I slid it into my tote bag when I left the Egyptian Lounge during intermission.

At first, The Shoe made a lovely centerpiece for my dining room table, resting on a blue silk cushion that matched my good china. It was hard to leave the house without it, though, so I made a little quilted pouch for it and bought a purse big enough to carry it with me wherever I went.

And then… I lost it. It was foolish of me to take The Shoe with me to that writers’ conference in Wisconsin and recklessly indiscreet to start talking about Cinderella. We got into quite a squabble, with Liz Tolsma insisting that Cinderella is a French fairy tale. She’s been hanging out at the Louvre, researching for her Slashed Canvas book, and she’s becoming quite a Francophile. I’m afraid I couldn’t resist the urge to drop a few hints.

I just know she’s the one who sneaked in and stole it from under my pillow while I was out buying cheese curds, but I can’t accuse her without revealing my own guilt. Now, I can’t sleep or eat… I lie awake at night, mourning my loss and – yes! – plotting how to get it back. I’m even stalking her website, waiting for her to betray her guilt.

The Shoe belongs to me.

Ever After Mysteries

The Last Gasp, Book One in the Ever After Mysteries series, is available TODAY! Happy book birthday to Chautona Havig! Be sure to read all of the Cinderella’s Shoe mini-mystery stories and enter the giveaway.