These 30 true stories of take-charge princesses from around the world and throughout history offer a different kind of bedtime story . . . Pop history meets a funny, feminist point-of-view in these illustrated tales of “royal terrors who make modern gossip queens seem as demure as Snow White” ( New York Post ). You think you know her story. You’ve read the Brothers Grimm, you’ve watched the Disney cartoons, and you cheered as these virtuous women lived happily ever after. But real princesses didn’t always get happy endings—and had very little in common with Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Belle, or Ariel.   Featuring illustrations by Wicked cover artist, Douglas Smith, Princesses Behaving Badly tells the true stories of famous (Marie Antoinette; Lucrezia Borgia)—and some not-so-famous—princesses throughout history and around the world, including:   • Princess Stephanie von Hohenlohe , a Nazi spy.  • Empress Elisabeth of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, who slept wearing a mask of raw veal.  • Princess Olga of Kiev, who slaughtered her way to sainthood. • Princess Lakshmibai , who waged war on the battlefield with her toddler strapped to her back.   Some were villains, some were heroes, some were just plain crazy. But none of these princesses felt constrained to our notions of “lady-like” behavior. “Forget conventional fairy-tale endings…From pirate princesses to princesses with bizarre beauty routines to warrior royalty, this book shows there's a lot more to life than a cookie-cutter story.”— Bustle “An important and impressive contribution to the feminist narrative.”— Bust  magazine “Princess, diva, pain in the ass — all terms that resonate throughout  Princesses Behaving Badly , which tells of royal terrors who make modern gossip queens seem as demure as Snow White.”— New York Post “History has produced some very real, very dangerous ladies who make their movie and book counterparts seem lame by comparison. From Nazi spy to bloodthirsty killer, these women were not meek in any way. Heck, one of them even wore a mask of raw veal! You’ll find out all this and more in this little book of miniature biographies.”— Geeks of Doom   “McRobbie includes a good mix that will satisfy anyone who loves tales of history and audacity.”—Terri Schlichenmeyer, The Bookworm Sez “McRobbie gives many of these princesses exactly what their stories require: a narrative that tells their stories in broad strokes, without omitting any of the juicy details.” — ForeWord Reviews “Irreverent, informative, and entertaining,  Princesses Behaving Badly  is the perfect companion to royal novels.” —Jennifer Conner,  Literate Housewife “[ Princesses Behaving Badly ] is a major addition to feminist libraries, and more importantly, it’s lots of fun!”—Anna Jedrziewski, Retailing Insight Linda Rodriguez McRobbie has written for Smithsonian Magazine , The Guardian , Atlas Obscura , Christian Science Monitor , WallStreetJournal.com, and other national publications. Find her online at lindarodriguezmcrobbie.com. Once Upon a Time: An Introduction “Every girl pretends she is a princess at one point.”  Lindy, from Alex Finn’s Beastly Every little girl? Not quite.      When I was growing up, I didn’t want to be a princess. I wasn’t a tomboy or anything; I just wasn’t into them. Horses, yes, especially the unicorn or winged or, best of all, winged unicorn kind. But then again, when I was a little girl, the Disney princess wasn’t the glittery pastel-colored juggernaut it is today. You could be a little girl and not limit your dress-up choices to Belle, Ariel, or Cinderella (or Mulan or Merida, if you’re feeling feisty).      Nowadays, princess obsession is the default setting for many little girls. In 2000 Disney decided to market the doe-eyed denizens of its feature films by their primary identifying characteristic: their princess titles. And thus was born the princess plague. Princesses are now the biggest industry for the pre-tween set. In 2012 the Disney Princess media franchise was the best-selling of its kind in North America, outselling Star Wars and Sesame Street and earning more than $4.6 billion worldwide. Add to that all the collateral stuff—T he Princess and the Popstar Barbies, the Melissa & Doug Decorate Your Own Princess Mirror sets, countless pink-spangled princess T-shirts—and you’ve got what social commentators and worried parents are calling the “Princess Industrial Complex.”      In her fascinating book Cinderella Ate My Daughter (Harper, 2011), Peggy Orenstein examines the obsession with bundling girls into “pink and pretty” princess costumes. Orenstein, among many others, worries that princess play presents unrealistic expectations of feminine beauty, is overly restrictive (pink ball gown, or purple?), and is turning little girls into budding narcissists. So do I. Though no direct evidence supports claims that the ubiquitous princess culture harms girls’ self-esteem, it seems to