Blurb
Fifteen-year-old Anne tends goats while daydreaming of fairy tales—until the day she finds herself in one. When a wealthy nobleman marries her older sister, they’re both swept off to his castle deep in the woods. Upon entering this world of finery, lush gardens, and nightly balls with dashing suitors, Anne believes her own happily-ever-after is just around the corner. She has almost forgotten the rumors surrounding the estate—tales of the castle’s tragic history and whispers of ghosts—when her sister falls mysteriously ill.
To save her, Anne must uncover the shadowy pasts of those who share her new home. Her sister’s husband refuses to speak of the disappearance of his last wife (or possibly wives), the domineering housekeeper hides her own secrets in a forbidden garden, and the handsome, enigmatic gardener urges Anne to escape the castle and leave her sister behind. There are signs, too, that something dark and supernatural haunts the estate.
If Anne misplaces her trust or fails to discover where the real danger lies, she’ll forfeit her sister’s life—and her own.
Told through the diaries and letters of those who live within the castle, this reimagining of the Bluebeard fairy tale is perfect for fans of Crimson Peak, Erin A. Craig’s House of Salt and Sorrows, or classic Gothic horror.
Excerpt
Only once during all the festivities did anything temper my joy. Klaus pulled me aside during a break from his fiddle-playing. His serious expression worried me, and I followed him to a spot just outside the glow of the bonfire, where no one else should hear us.
“Anne,” Klaus said. “Oh Annie, tomorrow you leave me, and what shall I do then?” He half-smiled and tousled my hair. I wriggled out of his grasp before he could do any lasting damage to the flower crown or my braids.
“You shall be quite happy to be rid of me, I should think, but for my help with the milking.”
“It is true,” he said. “The goats do not behave so well for any of us. They like your gentle nature.”
I smiled to myself and found my eyes suddenly stinging. I would miss him greatly, but I must not begin to cry or I would not be able to stop.
His smile faded, and Klaus took a step closer, glancing around to be sure no one paid us any mind. “Your gentle nature is also what worries me.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighed, wiped a hand down his face, then met my eyes again. “There are whispers,” he said.
“I don’t know what to think, but people have been saying things about Bluebeard . . .”
I waited, my fears surfacing again. Had Klaus heard something more about his last wife or the haunted castle? We’d discussed the ghosts before and laughed, but he was grim-faced now. All along, I’d thought us too fortunate, that Bluebeard sweeping us off to his estate was something from a dream. Perhaps these whispers were the chink in the armor, the missing piece that would make it all fit together.
Klaus exhaled again, looking at the bonfire instead of at me. He wished not to tell me this, not to spoil Liesl’s marriage or my adventure. But he did tell me, because he’s a good brother. The best I have.
“They say . . . they say that he has been married before. Several times. And that no one knows what happened to his wives.”
“Wives?” I asked. Had there been others before the one who had run away? “How many?”
Klaus shook his head. “I don’t know. You know how rumors go. I hear reports of anywhere from three to seven. But I believe there is some truth there, underneath all of the embellishments.”
I clasped my hands together to stop them from shaking and nodded solemnly. “Thank you for telling me, Klaus,” I said when I was finally able to untie my tongue.
“I couldn’t bring myself to tell Liesl, lest I spoil her day, but I wanted to caution you. I hope the rumors are untrue,” he said. “Perhaps it was only the one wife, as he said. Or if there were others, perhaps they just grew tired of that strange beard of his and ran off.”
“It is possible,” I said. My voice came out flat and empty. One wife may have run, as the rumors said, but three? Seven?
Klaus squeezed my hand. “Promise you shall write to me. I’ll worry for you and Liesl.”
“I swear it.” I smiled, but my heart felt heavy. I was sure to gain so much by going, but how much was I also leaving behind?
About the Author
L.J. Thomas is a writer of speculative fiction. A native of South Dakota, she now lives in Minnesota with her husband and her adopted dog. She works as an engineer by day and writes by night. In her free time she enjoys the great outdoors, traveling, reading, and daydreaming about other worlds.
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