"The Pretender" by Katie Ward

EXCERPT and GIVEAWAY

The Pretender

by Katie Ward

The Pretender by Katie Ward is currently on tour with YA Bound Book Tours. The tour stops here today for an excerpt and a giveaway. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.

Description

In rural France, two babies are born just two hours apart but to two very different lives. Isabella is born as a Princess into a life of opulence and love while Sophia is born into a life of poverty and abuse at the hands of her father.

The Pretender follows the journey of Isabella and Sophia as their paths cross and after discovering how alike they look, they decide to switch places with each other. Sophia is seeking sanctuary from her abusive home while Isabella is seeking freedom from the tightening burden of her Royal title.

The Pretender is a story of friendship, love, and the strange power of destiny.

Excerpt

At this point in the story, Sophia has fled her abusive home after her father attacked her. While Isabella, having undertaken her first solo royal engagement is feeling trapped by her title. Isabella bravely tries to discuss this with her parents.

***

‘Look, I want to be honest with you and Daddy. The truth is, I’m not happy. I want to have the chance to go to Paris, to be given time to live anonymously, just a normal teenager without the burden of my royal status. Kind of like a gap year I suppose but I only want a few months and I’d be staying in the same country. Please, can you let me go to Paris?’

My parents and siblings turn to look at each other in utter shock. The baffled expression on my father's face then turns to anger.

‘What the hell has gotten into you, Isabella? How could you be so ungrateful! You're next in line to the throne and quite frankly it's insulting to hear you speak such nonsense. Your face has graced every magazine and television outlet in the world since the day you were born, so answer me this: how can you be anonymous: how can you ever be normal?’

I lower my head as my hopes and dreams desert me. Daddy’s reaction is not wholly unexpected but it is disappointing. Is a little understanding too much to expect?

‘I never asked to be a princess,’ I say choking back my tears. ‘How was I to know that in order to wear the crown I had to throw my whole life away. Did you ever ask me if that was OK? Did you ever ask me what I wanted? All I'm asking for is the chance to find out what it's like to live beyond the prison gates of this place.’

‘Insolent girl! I can't talk to you right now or I'll lose my temper completely.’ Fury dances across my father's face, his jaw hardening as he turns away to leave the room, slamming the door behind him. My tears fall as I realise that my whole life will be dictated by duty and protocol. That I’ll never be free.

Giving my sisters permission to go to their rooms, my mother passes me a tissue and allows me to pull myself together before walking me back to my room.

‘Love, I do understand how you feel. I've long seen that you inherited that restless part of my nature, the part that seeks adventure and excitement. But your father's right, you can't be the ordinary person that you want to be - not because of the title we placed upon you at birth - but because of the public's expectation of you. You're not a princess just in title, Isabella, you're a princess in the hearts and minds of a nation. That's what makes you so special, and that's why you can never know what it's like to be normal.’

I see that there are tears in her own eyes; that she too has sacrificed her freedom for her marriage to the King.

‘Oh Mama, I don't mean to sound ungrateful but these walls feel like a jail. I can't leave without permission, I can't do anything without permission!’

‘The world is a cruel place at times, love. What you don't realise is that for every person who stands in adoration of you as a member of the royal family, there are many others who would wish to hurt you for exactly the same reason. We spend a fortune on security because it’s necessary. You're not a prisoner, Isabella, but you can't just wander out on your own because the danger is too great.’

‘If I'm honest, Mama, the way I feel right now, I'd take the chance.’

‘Oh Isabella, you're far too much like me for your own good,’ she says, looking at me sympathetically. She promises: ‘I'll have a word with your father, maybe see if we can arrange a trip to Paris for you. I'm sure we could tie it in with some engagements. It's the best we can do, my love.’

‘Thank you, Mama.’ I yawn and cover my mouth. ‘It's getting late. I think I'll just go to bed if you don't mind.’

My mother nods then kisses me good night before leaving my room, I feel the weight of her gaze upon me before she closes the door behind her.

***

Lying on my bed, I replay the evening’s events. A sudden thought crosses my mind. Racing to the window, I look down at the ground outside my bedroom. It’s not too far. Then, before I can change my mind, I whip off my sheet and duvet cover, knotting them together, along with a big towel from my bathroom, attaching my homemade rope to a bar on my window.  Tucking my credit card into my jeans pocket, I stand on a chair, climb out backwards and carefully descend to the ground, clinging to the rope, my heart pounds a million beats to the second. Once on the ground, my knees shake slightly as I set off out into the night.

The cool summer air surrounds me as I hurry towards the palace gates before someone can stop me. I've no idea what I'll do when I'm on the other side of the gates but I don't care. I want my freedom and I won't take no for an answer. I’m an adult, aren’t I? Surely, I get to make my own decisions now.

Just as I reach the gates, however, I see an unexpected sight: a slumped figure lies sobbing in front of them. I approach gingerly.

‘Are you OK?’ I ask.

The figure quickly rises, wiping away the tears before turning around to face me.  I see that it's a frightened-looking girl, around the same age as me.

‘No, not really. I'm sorry, I had nowhere else to go and this felt like the safest place to come.’

The girl seems sincere. ‘Don't apologise,’ I say, not wanting to see her cry. ‘Why do you have nowhere left to go? Can't you go home?’

‘Home? No, my father kicked me out.’

Praise for the Book

“It was a great book, even though it talked about important subjects, it still had a fairytale feel. I recommend it to everyone.” ~ Jess's Bookish Life

“A delightful 21st century fairytale complete with a charming prince and villianous father. That doesn't mean it is light and fluffy, far from it.” ~ Norway Ellsea Blogspot

“This is a perfect Young Adult book that I really got into and could not put down.” ~ Coffee and Kindle Book Reviews

“I highly recommend reading this one if you like enchanting royal tales or a modern twist on a classic. This was quite a charming enjoyable read.” ~ Highly Delicious Book Reviews

“I adored the friendship that developed between these girls...I also appreciated that this was a book filled with lessons especially the fact that your actions have consequences.” ~ Audio Killed the Bookmark

About the Author

Katie Ward always knew that she wanted to write for a living. After completing a degree in Journalism at the University for the Creative Arts in Farnham, she moved to Dublin. While there, she had a short story published in an anthology titled Do the Write Thing which was part of a competition being run by Irish TV show Seoige and O’Shea. This story was originally written when Katie was 14 after she was inspired by an article in her favourite teen magazine. The anthology reached the Irish Bestsellers List. Katie was also shortlisted for a competition judged by Man Booker Prize-winning author Roddy Doyle a few months later.

The Pretender is her first Young Adult novel.

Giveaway

Enter the tour-wide giveaway for a chance to win a signed original painting by Emma Haines, illustrator of The Pretender by Katie Ward (open internationally).

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Links

Add to Goodreads

Amazon (Kindle Unlimited)

Barnes & Noble

Blog

BookBub

Facebook

Goodreads

Instagram @katiewwriter

Twitter @KatieWWriter

Website

Featured in this post:

"Jaclyn and the Beanstalk" by Mary Ting

EXCERPT and GIVEAWAY

Jaclyn and the Beanstalk
(Tangled Fairy Tale Book 1)

by Mary Ting

Jaclyn and the Beanstalk by Mary Ting has just been released and is ON SALE for only $1.99.

This book blast and giveaway is hosted by I Am A Reader.

You can also follow the blog tour commencing 10 September.

For more books by this author, check out my blog post on the Descendant Prophecies series and my blog post on ISAN - International Sensory Assassin Network.

Description

What fate awaits a girl who hears monsters at night …

Sixteen-year-old Jaclyn looks up to her father. An honest man who once fought for the king, he now teaches Jaclyn how to use her wits - and her sword.

But he has a secret. And his secret may have a connection to the one thing Jaclyn is hiding from him.

Upon hearing “monsters” are terrorizing the small villages around Black Mountain, Jaclyn’s father and his friends head out to hunt them … but they don’t return. Armed only with her sword and three magic beans - a gift from a mysterious old woman - Jaclyn sets out for Black Mountain to save her father.

On her climb, one bean drops and grows into a beanstalk, catching her when she falls.

She isn't the only one that takes the ride. Jack, her childhood friend and secret crush, is following her.

Together, Jaclyn and Jack must battle to save not only their fathers, but the townspeople the beasts plan to lay waste to before it's too late.

Excerpt

Chapter One
Sixteenth Century

Shrieks rent the peaceful night. I bolted upright and gulped air as if I had been under water too long. My heart raced as a white, ghost-like mist escaped my panting mouth. Despite the chill, sweat trickled down my forehead and dampened my back, causing the fabric of my chemise to stick.

I squinted through the darkness; moonlight faintly illuminated the storage chest and a nub of a candle was atop the plain table. In my room—safe. But my heart did not slow, for the cries still echoed in my mind.

Please, go away. Go away.

My head—a pounding mess.

Curling into a ball and covering my ears, I hummed a tune Mother used to sing. The song always had a way of comforting me, but it never made the noise go away.

Thinking the devil waited for me to lose my mind, to seize my soul, I whispered the Lord’s Prayer. “…And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

As the noises faded, I released my knees. Exhaustion consumed me and I found sleep once more.

“Rise, Jaclyn,” Father hollered from the kitchen. “Time for your lesson.”

No, no, no.

I squirmed lower under my coverlet and yawned.

Bodies shuffled and thumped in other rooms. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I shivered as frosty air pricked my bones. Outside my window, the sun glowed molten-gold through the cluster of gray clouds.

Perhaps the night before had been a dream. Can one dream the same dream for months on end?

I swept the night’s occurrences to the back of my mind and pulled the bedclothes tighter. I shut my eyes against the light kissing my cheeks and thought only of rest until my chamber door creaked open.

The mattress shifted.

“Father.” I flailed my arms and kicked uncontrollably, laughing and slapping his hands as he tickled my sides. “Cease, cease. I’m awake.”

I sat up and clutched the coverlet, wishing to be honest with him about the nightmares. Swallowing the words, I gave him a sheepish smile. He had a belly full of worries and I did not wish to add mine. I would not have him think the devil damned my soul; Father’s belief would make it true.

He’d aged right before my eyes. Even his garments—dark breeches and a forest-green tunic—drooped wearily, and his muddy black boots had cracked. Father’s thick eyelashes touched his ruddy face when he looked down. His rough hands, callused and dirty from labor, cradled his favorite tatty, brown hat, and he poked his finger through a hole in the top.

“Are you well, Daughter?” The skin around his nut-brown eyes crinkled with concern, and his forehead creased.

No. I hear monsters at night. Something is wrong with your daughter.

“Yes.” I disliked keeping the truth from him. “A little unwell, perhaps.”

I smiled when the aroma of fresh baked bread wafted through the door, but cringed at the sight of rat droppings on the white linens—gifts from vermin in the thatch that had fallen from the roof.

Father raised his chin and wiggled his nose. “Generous this time, were they not?” He chuckled. “They left none for me last night.”

I cursed under my breath, frowning. “They left me plenty.”

“You’re late abed this morning.” Father rubbed his jaw, and pushed his fingers through the white streaks by his temple before placing the hat on his dark head. “Do you want to pass this morning?”

Closing my eyes, I wished my lassitude away. “Nay. I need to dress first.” I plucked at my white chemise.

“Certainly. Clothe yourself and eat some of your mother’s bread. I’ll be tending to the horses.” He ruffled my hair and shut the door behind him.

Determined to begin the day afresh and forget the previous night, I took out a boy’s breeches and tunic from my chest. Mother had frowned when I wore them at first, but ceased when she grew tired of mending gowns.

Father had been training me to use a sword and other weapons, so I had no choice but to dress accordingly. Our only neighbors were hills and forest—no townspeople to scandalize.

Hunger pangs grew as I opened my chamber door. Just before I closed it behind me, I glanced about. I had smoothed the coverlet, shut the chest, and ensured nothing lay on the dirt floor. The small chamber left no room for a mess.

“You’re awake at last.”

Mother’s smile and sky-blue eyes warmed me better than the fire under the big kettle.

I smiled back. “Good morning, Mother. Thank you for the delicious meal I’m about to eat.”

A tankard of milk and a wooden trencher bearing a piece of bread with sweet butter had been set on the table. After I said grace, Mother tugged at my long, brown hair as I devoured my meal.

“You’re sixteen and you can’t even comb your own hair. What if a suitor comes to call? You should at least appear presentable.”

Mother yanked back my bushy hair and worked it over with my favorite brush. I’d had it since I was a baby and always loved the vine carvings on the handle.

“I shall tie it up.” I paused to swallow a bit of crust. “And I don’t want a suitor, even if one happened to wander into the hills.”

Mother did not reply. I winced and yelped quietly as she pulled and twisted my hair, determined to produce a miracle. She captured two tight braids and secured them atop my head. Not a strand of hair strayed out of place, but the cool air tickled my bare nape.

“There.” She set her eyes on mine. “Beautiful. You can wear a brown sack if you choose, but your face Jaclyn, is a thing of beauty. You’ve got regular features, thank goodness, nothing like your father’s crooked nose. And if I did not know you, I’d swear you’d painted those lips rosy. I’ve always said give me a pair of handsome brown eyes over flighty blue any day. You’re living proof.”

I shrugged away her compliments. “You’re my mother. You’re supposed to tell me lies to make me feel better.” I turned away and bit off a hunk of bread.

“Nonsense.”

Mother huffed and tended to the pot hanging over the fire. Stone by stone, Father had built the fireplace many years past.

I rose. “Shall I help you?”

“Nay, finish your meal. Father awaits.” She stirred the previous night’s stew with a long wooden spoon.

I sat back down and ran my finger along the ridges of the wooden table, also Father’s handiwork. “When will we visit town? I miss the market.”

I swallowed my milk after finishing the delicious bread. I wanted to ask for more, but with winter approaching, I kept my lips sealed.

Mother picked up a spoon from a washbasin and wiped it on the fabric around her thin waist. “Do not change the subject of our talk.”

“I am not, Mother.” I frowned and stood next to her as she dried another spoon.

Mother crinkled her nose. “Don’t fret. You’re of marriageable age now. We must think of finding you a husband or your time will pass. I’m only thinking of your future, Jaclyn. I want to see you settled soon. Your father and I are not getting younger.”

“Getting married and bearing children is not for me. There’s much work to be done.”

I slipped my arms around her waist and pressed my head to her back. I inhaled deeply as warmth enveloped me and her love replaced the fright from my nightmares.

Safe. I am safe. No monsters.

“Our life is good here. Why would I want to fix what is not broken?”

“’Tis what we do. People will talk.”

“Let them.”

I scowled, anger boiling through my veins. I tended to not raise my voice, so I softened my tone out of respect.

“I will not be handed to a suitor I do not love.”

Mother patted my arm. “My child, you have much to learn. Love comes later. I did not love your father at first.”

“I will not follow other people’s ways.” Pouting, I shuffled my feet on the dirt.

She released a deep sigh. “Oh, Jaclyn. Your time will come. Everyone has a destiny. Everyone has a story to tell. Some more than others. We shall see what lies ahead for you. Fate will lead you to the path you are meant to take.”

I wished I had eyes for the future. I wanted to know a demon would not seize my soul, and I wanted to see a path without the nighttime cries. They must be monsters. I’d never heard a human throat make such tortured sounds.

What fate awaits a girl who hears monsters at night?

Illness swept through my stomach. A shudder racked me, beginning in my gut, forewarning me.

[Want more? Click below to read a longer excerpt.]

Praise for this Book

“The story-line was phenomenal. It was mystifying, magical and suspenseful all rolled into one. I felt a real connection with this story. The storytelling of this story made it feel so real and so believable and I just couldn't put it down.” ~ Jenny Bynum Black Words-White Pages

“The author took a unique approach to the story by weaving in religion, magic, and monsters. I was whisked away to another land. Sixteen-year-old Jaclyn may be the strongest female lead I have read to date. I was blown away by her strength and tenacity.” ~ Lynn 2 Girls & A Book

“It was an entertaining take on Jack and the Beanstalk and I loved how creative this story was at times. While it held some of the same elements as the original tale, it was interesting watching how it veered off onto its own path.” ~ Jen, Star-Crossed Book Blog

“I love anything Mary Ting writes, and Jaclyn and the Beanstalk was no exception. The twist she put on Jack and the Beanstalk was phenomenal. There was so much adventure in this book, so many twists and turns, I loved it all, even if she did make me cry.” ~ Amber

“This story is captivating! From start to finish I was pulled in by the mystery that is Jaclyn. I love how this book contained action, suspense, mystery and love.” ~ Jeannette dods

About the Author

International Bestselling, Award-Winning, Author Mary Ting/M. Clarke resides in Southern California with her husband and two children. She enjoys oil painting and making jewelry. Writing her first novel, Crossroads, happened by chance. It was a way to grieve the death of her beloved grandmother, and it was inspired by a dream she once had as a young girl. When she started reading new adult novels, she fell in love with the genre. It was the reason she had to write one, Something Great (FREE), under the pen name, M. Clarke. Why the pen name? She also toured with Magic Johnson Foundation to promote literacy and her children’s chapter book No Bullies Allowed.

Giveaway

Enter the blast-wide giveaway for a chance to win a $50 Amazon gift card or PayPal cash.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Links

Add to Goodreads

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

iTunes

Kobo

Blog

Facebook page

Facebook group

Goodreads

Google+

Instagram

LinkedIn

Newsletter

Pinterest

Twitter @MaryTing

Website

"Beauty of the Beast" by Rachel L. Demeter

REVIEW and GIVEAWAY

Beauty of the Beast
(Fairy Tale Retellings Book 1)

by Rachel L. Demeter

Beauty of the Beast, the first book in the new Fairy Tale Retellings series by Rachel L. Demeter, is currently on tour with Promo Stars Services. The tour stops here today for my review, an excerpt, and a giveaway. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.

 

For more books by this author, please check out my blog post on The Frost of Springtime and my blog post on Finding Gabriel.

Description

Experience the world’s most enchanting and timeless love story - retold with a dark and realistic twist.

A beast living in the shadow of his past ...

Reclusive and severely scarred Prince Adam Delacroix has remained hidden inside a secluded, decrepit castle ever since he witnessed his family’s brutal massacre. Cloaked in shadow, with only the lamentations of past ghosts for company, he has abandoned all hope, allowing the world to believe he died on that tragic eve twenty-five years ago.

A beauty in pursuit of a better future ...

Caught in a fierce snowstorm, beautiful and strong-willed Isabelle Rose seeks shelter at a castle - unaware that its beastly and disfigured master is much more than he appears to be. When he imprisons her gravely ill and blind father, she bravely offers herself in his place.

Beauty and the Beast ...

Stripped of his emotional defenses, Adam’s humanity reawakens as he encounters a kindred soul in Isabelle. Together they will wade through darkness and discover beauty and passion in the most unlikely of places. But when a monster from Isabelle’s former life threatens their new love, Demrov’s forgotten prince must emerge from his shadows and face the world once more ...

Perfect for fans of Beauty and the Beast and The Phantom of the Opera, Beauty of the Beast brings a familiar and well-loved fairy tale to life with a rich setting in the kingdom of Demrov and a captivating, Gothic voice.

Note: This is an edgy, historical romance retelling of the classic fairy tale Beauty and the Beast. Due to very strong sexual content, profanity, and dark subject matter, including an instance of sexual assault committed by the villain, Beauty of the Beast is not intended for readers under the age of 18.

Book Video

Excerpt

~ The East Tower ~

Arms sprang out from the darkness. They spun her full circle and slammed her body against the king’s portrait. Isabelle gasped, more in shock than from pain, as she stared into Adam’s deformed face. The lantern flickered behind his massive form, casting his cloaked body in silhouette. But she saw enough to know he was far from pleased. Rage and frustration radiated from his body like a palpable force.

“I warned you to stay out of here,” he said, his voice dangerously cold and deep. Those rugged vocals vibrated against her body and seeped into her marrow. “What part of forbidden didn’t you comprehend?” His voice lashed out from the darkness like a hurtled knife, and the word “forbidden” seemed to whisper another meaning altogether. Isabelle tried to answer but failed to find her voice. Indeed, her vocal cords had turned to solid ice, as numb and cold as the blood rushing through her veins. She couldn’t breathe; she felt like she was suffocating.

“My mother gave me that musical box on my fourth birthday,” he said, the sensual lull of his voice causing the fine hairs on her nape to stand erect. “And now your recklessness has destroyed it. Have you nothing to say?”

“I—I’m sorry.” He offered no reply; only the ragged sound of his breathing and the hammering blizzard broke the silence. “Please—I didn’t mean any harm.”

She struggled under the weight of Adam’s colossal body and battled to free herself. He merely gave a low chuckle and pressed her firmly against the portrait. He looked otherworldly at that moment, like an angel of death seeking vengeance. Both beautiful and monstrous, his cool, sapphire eyes overflowed with warring emotions. In spite of his harsh and ruthless exterior, she detected a quaver in his voice and saw that his large, cloaked shoulders trembled. The darkness in his soul cast a shadow that embraced her; as she peered up at him, she knew he was drowning in the turbulent waters of a past time.

“What a disappointment,” he went on, his voice growing deeper still, mocking her words from so many days ago, “You’re like any other woman.”

“I—I’m sorry. Please, Adam. I—” Her gaze shot past his body and over the wreckage of a past life. She thought of her private chamber again—of the stale perfumes and outdated garments.

Her flight or fight instinct seized hold of her. She attempted to scramble free, but he merely grabbed her shoulder and whirled her back against the portrait. Gloves wrapped his hands; his long, silk-clad fingers grasped her shoulder and kept her firmly in place.

He stood intimately close.

Far too close.

As close as Raphael had been that night.

“Going somewhere, ma belle? After you’ve worked so hard to find my East Tower?”

Hands like two steel bands held her wrists in place. Hot breaths, which faintly smelled of wine, seared her cheeks and assaulted her senses. Her breasts flattened against the pressure of his strong chest, and she felt that same chest swell and deflate in perfect sync with her own. One large hand slipped down her elbow and glided across her extended arm. The lush material of his gloves drew a shudder from her heaving chest. His breathing grew more ragged, shallower, and the erratic beat of his heart banged against her own.

Anger and desire warred on his face, twisting his features into a mess of both monster and man. “Find anything of interest, aside from my musical box? Come, come. You went through such great trouble to get here,” he asked, his voice now threaded with both anger and something else.

Yes, Isabelle recognized that something else. It was the same note that had entered Raphael’s voice that night…

She attempted to duck under his arm, but he moved swiftly, capturing her in the crook of his elbow. Reeling her toward him, he emitted a low, haunting chuckle that swelled the eastern tower to its rafters. She was back where she’d started—pinned against the portrait, Adam’s body serving as a flesh-and-blood blockade.

Hunger radiated from him, enfolding her in a current of sizzling power. His silk-clad hand grazed the curve of her breast as it moved down her body in a painfully slow caress. Even more alarming was her reaction to him. Her treacherous body responded with a crush of hot and cold pulsating waves. Then he whispered a taunt in her ear, and his liquid baritone slid down her backbone like honey; it swirled inside her, finding its home in her most intimate area.

He leaned closer still. His face’s uneven skin brushed against her neck, the black waves of his hair tickled her chin... His thick arousal expanded against her, reminding her of what he was capable of—and of her sheer vulnerability.

His lips teased the base of her throat. Cursing her traitorous body, Isabelle gasped at the gentle scraping of his teeth. His tongue and lips tormented her throbbing pulse—just barely, stirring her skin in a mere ghost of a touch.

[Want more? Click below to read another excerpt.]

Praise for the Book

"Another Fairy Tale grows up, gains some dark realism and proves that without love, even a saint can become a beast from within their heart and that love can make anyone beautiful in the eyes of those who love them. Rachel L. Demeter has shown her writing chops once again as she turns an already dark tale into an edgy read that will rock you back on your heels." ~ Tome Tender Book Blog

"Absolutely beautiful. A perfect retelling of one of the most famous fairy tales. This version doesn't involve talking teapots or enchanted roses, but this retelling is still beyond magical." ~ LYLY 5 STAR BOOKS

"5++ enchanting stars. This book is so beyond anything I could have ever expected. The author recreated the original Beauty and the Beast story with a sexy and dark edge and I completely LOVED it. Rachel L. Demeter's writing is just beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, my kindle is literally FILLED with highlights." ~ Katie's Book Blog

"I loved Ms. Demeter's Finding Gabriel, so I when I saw her Beauty of the Beast, I jumped at the chance to read it! The fact that it was a retelling of Beauty and the Beast, my favorite fairy tale, only made me want to read it even more - and wow - was it good. Although good is too weak a word to describe it, it really was amazing and I positively loved it!" ~ A Hopeless Romantic's Booklandia

"Once I started reading it ...I. Could. Not. Stop!" ~ The Booknatics

My Review

By Lynda Dickson

*Contains spoilers*

Beauty of the Beast is an original adaptation of Beauty and the Beast that reads like a historical romance, with a touch of The Phantom of the Opera and Cinderella, and even references to The Sleeping Beauty and The Frog Prince. The story starts in 1808, in Lavoncourt, in the fictional Kingdom of Demrov. Prince Adam Delacroix is only eleven years old when revolutionaries set fire to his family's palace, killing his parents. In an attempt to save his baby sister, Adam is disfigured by fire. And when she dies, something in him dies, too.

"As he felt her spirit fade away, he too felt a part of himself disappear. His body grew cold and numb, resembling an empty shell."

Flash forward to twenty-five years later, in Ruillé, Demrov, where we are introduced to Isabelle Rose, an avid reader and book lover.

"She flipped through her book’s well-loved pages, allowing the sentimental words to wrap her soul and lift her into another time and place."

Isabelle's love of reading stems from hearing the fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty and "true love's kiss" when she was only six years old. When things become difficult, Isabelle retreats from reality into her imaginary world.

"Once again, Isabelle allowed herself to slip inside the fabric of her dream world—a beautiful realm of make-believe."

She lives with her ailing father and her two younger stepsisters and is engaged to Vicomte Raphael Dumont, a nobleman of dubious reputation. Of this marriage of convenience:

"She realized that to save her loved ones, she’d need to sacrifice much more than her flesh and happiness. Alas, by the time this nightmare ended, she’d be forced to sacrifice her very soul."

Isabelle's father says of her deceased mother:

"... was she a beauty like I had never seen. Indeed, her beauty stole half my wretched heart. Her spirit stole whatever remained. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her... Nothing we wouldn’t have done for each other."

Isabelle wants to experience a love like that. But it's a dream she is willing to sacrifice.

"Finding true love. It was a dream Isabelle was willing to sacrifice if it meant buying a couple of more precious years with Papa."

In a final, desperate attempt to escape from the cruel Raphael, Isabelle uses the excuse of the annual Merchants' Fair to leave town with her father.

"The Merchants’ Fair was the perfect excuse to land a carriage and the necessary funds; she would use Raphael, that cold-hearted fool, just as he meant to use her."

When Raphael violates her, she vows to get her revenge.

"She didn’t know how, and she didn’t know when; somehow, someway, she’d make Raphael pay for his unthinkable cruelty."

Feeling scarred and ruined, Isabelle is not too different to Adam.

"She’d never recover from Raphael’s assault should she live to see a thousand years. She still felt what he did to her—and not inside her poor heart where it pained her so. Where Raphael was concerned, her heart had turned to stone months ago. Non, she still felt it physically, inside the depths of her sore and bruised body. He’d ruined and scarred her, both inside and out."

Raphael gives Isabelle a carriage and money, and she escapes with her father. They stop for the night at what appears to be an abandoned castle. But its residents are a hooded man and his enormous beast of a dog, Stranger the wolfhound. When she finally catches sight of his face,

"... he resembled more of a beast than any man she’d ever seen."

Of course, this man is Adam Delacroix, who like the salamander of his family crest, has risen from the fire.

"Adam knew she saw him as a hideous monster—and he was precisely that. The countless years of solitude, of reliving the horrors of that night over and over, had eaten away at his soul, leaving an ugly shell in its wake."

That night, Adam imprisons Isabelle's father because

"... the old man had repaid his mercy with thievery."

But Adam agrees to release him the next day and let Isabelle stay in his place. Unfortunately, Isabelle's father dies during the night, and they both blame themselves.

"What have I done?"

Isabelle calls Adam a monster, but

"... those weren’t the eyes of a true monster. They held far too much emotion, too much heartache, as if they bore all the world’s sadness. Those eyes belonged to a man. Nothing more, nothing less."

As for Adam,

"He’d found his own words, his own personal mantra, long ago. Never trust. Never forget. And never forgive."

"He could never love again. Love demanded a considerable degree of trust, and after his family had been betrayed all those years ago, he’d lost his faith in others."

Will Adam ever lose his beastly nature and learn to love again?

Isabelle and Adam are similar in so many ways. His love for music and her love of books are their escape from the real world. Slowly, as their trust in each other grows, so does their love for each other.

"I suppose we aren’t so different, after all."

And the fitting climax brings everything full circle.

"Behind them, the fire steadily grew and raged, consuming the library."

The story is told from multiple points-of-view, but mainly from Isabelle's and Adam's. The author creates a great Gothic atmosphere, aided by writing in an old-fashioned, historical style. As you can tell from the many quotes I have chosen, the writing is generally excellent. However, the story is a bit slow and repetitive towards the middle, there are too many references to Adam's "sapphire" eye color and his scent of "pine and winter" (how does winter smell?), and the main lovemaking scene goes on far too long (about 30 minutes of reading). I was also a bit disconcerted by the author's repeated use of "fire" references used to describe the lovemaking. I don't know if this was deliberate or inadvertent but, to me, it felt insensitive to Adam's condition. There are few editing errors, including historical inaccuracies (in 1808 or earlier, Adam's piano tutor taught him the "greats", including Debussy who wasn't born until 1862 and Ravel, who was born in 1875). I'm not a fan of epilogues, in general. However, this one, set seven years later, is just perfect.

An original fairy tale adaptation with beautiful writing, emotional scenes, and interesting characters.

Warnings: coarse language, sex scenes, sexual assault.

Some of My Favorite Lines

"Rosemary’s cries fell quiet a heartbeat later. It was the loudest silence he’d ever heard."

"The music pulsated through her veins and lit a fire inside her soul."

"The castle was a wild beast that would swallow her whole at the slightest provocation."

"... the final note floated in the air and swirled around them, sweeter than honey from the comb."

"On nights such as these, the castle transformed into a living entity with a will of its own."

"Laughter erupted from Isabelle’s lips. The sensation felt liberating, freeing. When was the last time she’d laughed? She couldn’t recall. The revelation both thrilled and saddened her."

"The endearment sounded like liquid velvet sliding from his tongue."

"In Isabelle's mind, few things were as romantic as the feel of a book in her hands. The smooth, slightly embossed face of the cover. The scent of words and parchment that wafted toward her with each flip of the page. And the countless possibilities and adventures that lay between the covers. "

"Since I was a girl, all I’ve ever wanted were books. I used to wish I could live inside them, that I would fall asleep and wake up somewhere else as somebody else. It was my escape, my personal haven. Papa used to say that so long as I had my books, I’d always be free."

"I know these walls are filled with shadows. But that doesn’t mean you have to live in darkness."

"The soft melody of her voice reached out to him—more beautiful and tempting than any musical piece."

"He played her body like an instrument, his masterful fingers and tongue seducing her to sing for him ..."

"The earth and horizon joined in perfect union, a marriage so complete it was almost impossible to see where one ended and the other began."

Playlist

About the Author

Rachel L. Demeter lives in the beautiful hills of Anaheim, California, with Teddy, her goofy lowland sheepdog, and her high school sweetheart of fourteen years. She enjoys writing poignant romances that challenge the reader's emotions and explore the redeeming power of love.

Imagining dynamic worlds and characters has been Rachel's passion for longer than she can remember. Before learning how to read or write, she would dictate stories while her mother would record them for her. She holds a special affinity for the tortured hero and unconventional romances. Whether crafting the protagonist or antagonist, she ensures every character is given a soul.

Rachel endeavors to defy conventions by blending elements of romance, suspense, and horror. Some themes her stories never stray too far from: forbidden romance, soul mates, the power of love to redeem, mend all wounds, and triumph over darkness.

Her dream is to move readers and leave an emotional impact through her words.

Giveaway

Enter the tour-wide giveaway for a chance to win an ebook copy of Finding Gabriel by Rachel L. Demeter.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Links

Add to Goodreads

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble

iTunes

Kobo

Smashwords

Amazon US author page

Amazon UK author page

Blog

Facebook

Goodreads

Google+

Instagram

LinkedIn

Newsletter

Pinterest

Twitter @RachelLDemeter

Website

YouTube