Feature: Cinderella, Necromancer by F.M. Boughan

**Cinderella, Necromancer**

Kicking off the day is a new-to-me author. I was intrigued by Ms. Boughan’s take on Cinderella because his one sounds similar with minor differences. And then the one glaring difference - a dark and twisty addition of necromancing. In the end, it seems the main character will be questioning whether her wicked step-mother (whom we all would strongly dislike, I’m sure) is the monster; or if in fact her quest for vengeance has shaped her into the very thing she set out to destroy. Curiosity piqued? Check!

**F.M. BOUGHAN**

**BIO**

F.M. Boughan is a bibliophile, a writer, and an unabashed parrot enthusiast. She can often be found writing in local coffee shops, namely because it’s hard to concentrate with a cat lying on the keyboard and a small, colorful parrot screaming into her ear. Her work is somewhat dark, somewhat violent, somewhat hopeful, and always contains a hint of magic.

 To find out more about Ms. Boughan, please visit:

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**CINDERELLA, NECROMANCER**

File Size: 2347 KB

Print Length: 321 pages

Title ISBN: 978-1-946700-33-9

Publisher: Month9Books, LLC; 1 edition (September 5, 2017)

Publication Date: September 5, 2017

Sold by: Amazon Digital Services LLC

Language: English

ASIN: B071J9527Z

**BLURB**

Cinderella, Necromancer is Chime meets Anna Dressed in Blood and was inspired by a real medieval grimoire of necromancy from 15th-century Germany.

Ellison lost her mother at an early age. But since then, her father has found love again. He's happy and doesn't quite notice that Ellison does not get along with his new wife or her mean daughters. When Ellison discovers a necromantic tome while traveling the secret passages of her father's mansion, she wonders if it could be the key to her freedom. Until then, she must master her dark new power, even as her stepmother makes her a servant in her own home. And when her younger brother falls incurably ill, Ellison will do anything to ease his pain, including falling prey to her stepmother and stepsisters' every whim and fancy.

Stumbling into a chance meeting of Prince William during a secret visit to her mother's grave feels like a trick of fate when her stepmother refuses to allow Ellison to attend a palace festival. But what if Ellison could see the kind and handsome prince once more? What if she could attend the festival? What if she could have everything she ever wanted and deserved by conjuring spirits to take revenge on her cruel stepmother?

As Ellison's power grows, she loses control over the evil spirits meant to do her bidding. And as they begin to exert their own power over Ellison, she will have to decide whether it is she or her stepmother who is the true monster.

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**EXCERPT 1**

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age.

If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.

On the morning of my fifteenth birthday, my mother died. It was a cruel and terrible death, wrought with pain and suffering and moments of relief between the screams.

When death finally took her, the darkness hovered like a plague over our home, my father and younger brother and I only moving and breathing to survive, though if anyone had asked us why, we couldn’t have given an answer.

On the morning of my sixteenth birthday, the darkness descended in a form incarnate, though at first, we couldn’t see it.

Why should we have?

Father thought he’d brought me the best birthday gift a father could give his daughter: a new mother.

I saw nothing but a vile attempt to replace someone utterly irreplaceable.

I screamed, threw the pot I was holding at his head, and locked myself in my room for three days.

On the fourth day, six-year-old Edward knocked on my door. “

You can’t stay in there forever,” he said, his small voice wavering. “Father is threatening to call the locksmith. Mother—”

“Don’t call her that or I won’t speak to you,” I said.

He paused before continuing, an awkward pause that made me wonder—no, suspect—that she stood outside my door too.

“She is threatening to take a hatchet to your door,” he whispered, so soft I could barely hear.

Was she now? I wanted to see her try. Difficult, though, being on the other side of the door.

“And ruin Father’s fine craftsmanship? She wouldn’t.”

But I didn’t know if she would or not. After all, I’d only caught one glimpse and hadn’t even seen her face. Or looked in her eyes. I’d been a fool.

One’s eyes say so much more than most people suspect. While the superstitious bustle about, trying to hide their true names—for they believe there is power in names—they should really be wearing dark glasses and learning to speak while gazing at the ground.

Names? Please. Child’s play.

To learn the state of one’s soul, find their gaze and hold it.

But I’d thrown a pot and run away.

How differently things might have turned out if I’d only followed my own rule.

**EXCERPT 2**

They left. I did not hesitate.

I set up the parlour as if by rote, though the ease with which I fell into the routine stirred a concern. I buried it.

The spirits did their work, and I would do mine.

I had no doubt of my power, though if anyone had asked, I couldn’t have explained why I continued to tempt my eternal fate. I was as though driven by some force—something unseen—to use the ability, now that I had it.

I don’t excuse what I did. I only wish to explain why I continued to seek retribution despite my misgivings.

What is more, I longed for something deeper. Harsher. More severe, for a part of me believed that no matter what, I still held control over the spirits and what they did. And that same part of me wanted to see Charlotte suffer.

And so it was with this in mind that I turned further pages in The Book, knowing full well what I sought.

“To inflict harm,” I read, “make an image of wax on the day and in the hour of intent, in the name of the one to be harmed. Thus, you should use wax of candles burned at a funeral, and on the likeness, fashion hands in the place of feet, and feet in the place of hands.”

And so I did. With candles from my room that I had saved from Mother’s funeral, I molded a crude figure of my stepsister. With my fingernail, I inscribed Charlotte’s name on the wax doll’s forehead, and on its chest and shoulder, carved the book’s images of circles, planets, and five-sided stars.

Then I called my spirits. With the bridle still, I had no need of the first spirit. To the second, I had only to repeat my request. And to the third, I gave the wax doll, which he consecrated with spit smeared over the doll’s eyes.

“What would you have me do?” Oliroomim spoke with an unsettling eagerness.

From my hair, I drew a pin. With a hollowness in the pit of my belly, I pierced the spine of the doll.

A dark and twisty spin on Cinderella is what I am getting here. Maybe you think you are doing things for the right reasons, but you can quickly lose yourself to revenge. I chose to include two excerpts because those two really gave me a sense of the book and where it would be headed. I’m wondering if the relationship between her and the Prince is effected – or how it may differ given the circumstances of this story. I’m definitely curious. I know there have been a lot of different takes on Cinderella. How do you feel about this take? Are you a reader who enjoys reading similar, but interpreted differently? Or maybe you prefer some stories not be changed. Either way, I really want to hear your thoughts about this one. Your feedback is always wanted.  I hope you all enjoyed your time here today. And a thank you to Ms. Boughan for letting us be a part of this tour!

As always, buy links are included in the post. If you are so inclined, purchase the book for yourself. There is no better way to support an author. I would like to thank each and every one of you for joining us today. I would also like to thank the wonderful PC Tours – and all their work getting this tour put together. Wishing you all a fabulous day. Until next time …

HAPPY READING!!!