History has a way of repeating itself. In the Sunken City that was once Paris, all who oppose the new revolution are being put to the blade. Except for those who disappear from their prison cells, a red-tipped rook feather left in their place. Is the mysterious Red Rook a savior of the innocent or a criminal?
Meanwhile, across the sea in the Commonwealth, Sophia Bellamy's arranged marriage to the wealthy René Hasard is the last chance to save her family from ruin. But when the search for the Red Rook comes straight to her doorstep, Sophia discovers that her fiancé is not all he seems. Which is only fair, because neither is she.
As the Red Rook grows bolder and the stakes grow higher, Sophia and René find themselves locked in a tantalizing game of cat and mouse.
Daring intrigue, delicious romance, and spine-tingling suspense fill the pages of this extraordinary tale from award-winning author Sharon Cameron.
Sharon Cameron's debut novel The Dark Unwinding
was awarded the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators' Sue Alexander Award for Most Promising New Work and the SCBWI Crystal Kite Award, and was named a YALSA Best Fiction for Young Adults selection. Sharon is also the author of its sequel, A Spark Unseen
, which was selected as an Indiebound Indie Next List Top Ten selection, a YALSA Best Fiction for Young Adults selection, and a Parents' Choice
gold medalist; and The Forgetting
, a #1 New York Times
bestseller and an Indie Next Pick of the List selection, and its companion novel, The Knowing
. She lives with her family in Nashville, Tennessee, and you can visit her online at sharoncameronbooks.com.
- From ROOK
The heavy blade hung high above the prisoners, glinting against
the stars, and then the Razor came down, a wedge of falling darkness cutting through
the torchlight. One solid thump, and four more heads had been shaved from their
bodies. The mob around the scaffold roared, a sudden deluge of cheers and mockery
that broke like a wave against the viewing box, where the officials of the Sunken
City watched from velvet chairs. The noise gushed on, over the stacks of headless
bodies, around bare and booted feet that were crowded thick across the flagstones,
pouring down the drains and into the deep tunnels beneath the prison yard like filth
overflowing the street gutters. The city was bloodthirsty tonight.
dropped her gaze from the prison yard drains, where the din of the mob cascaded
from high above her head, squinting into the gloom of the subterranean passage.
The tunnel was one of dozens like it, long and narrow, a mausoleum of rough rock
and stink and rows of heavy, locked doors. It was why they called it the Tombs.
Sophia pulled the door to prison hole number 1139 shut behind her, letting the iron
lock clank quietly back into place.
She had planned for five prisoners
to be in hole 1139, not thirteen, and there were not enough coffins to smuggle them
out. Not all of them. She needed a new plan.