The worlds on either side of the mirror are about to collide. And there's nothing Jacob can do to stop them.
After a perilous encounter with an Alder Elf - an immortal, trick-turning creature to whom he owes a great debt - Jacob must journey back into the enchanted Mirrorworld once again.
Together with Fox, his beautiful shapeshifting friend, Jacob has no choice but to follow his brother on the trail of the Dark Fairy, who has fled deep into the East: to a land of folklore, Cossacks, spies, time-eating witches and flying carpets. But what exactly is the Dark One running from? Could it be the same danger that threatens Jacob and Fox?
The third book in the Reckless series, The Golden Yarn is a thrilling tale of courage and fear, jealousy and forbidden desire; in which love has the power both to save a life - and to destroy it.
About the Author
Hometown:Los Angeles, CA
Date of Birth:December 10, 1958
Place of Birth:Dorsten, Germany
Education:University of Hamburg
Read an Excerpt
The Moonstone Prince
The doll-princess was not having an easy labor. Not even the palace garden offered a refuge from her screams, and the Dark Fairy listened, and she hated how those groans and whimpers made her feel. She hoped Amalie would die. Of course. She’d been hoping ever since Kami’en had said yes to the other one in her bloody wedding gown. Yet there was more: an unreasonable longing for the infant who was pushing those screams from Amalie’s vapid, pretty mouth.
Through all these months, only her magic had kept the unborn child alive. The child that could not be. “You will save it. Promise me!” The same whispered plea, every time after he’d made love to her. Only that had made Kami’en return to her bed at night. The desire to meld his flesh with human flesh—it made him so helpless.
Oh, how the Doll screamed. As though the infant were being carved with a knife from her body, the body that only a Fairy lily could make desirable.
Kill her already, Skinless Prince. What gives her the right to call herself your mother?
He would have rotted inside her, like a forbidden fruit, if it hadn’t been for the magic the Dark One had spun around
Amalie. Yes, the infant was a boy. A son. The Dark Fairy had seen him in her dreams.
Kami’en did not come for her help himself. Not this night.
He sent his bloodhound to find her instead. His milky-eyed jasper shadow. Hentzau stopped in front of her, and as usual he avoided looking in her eyes.
“The midwife says she’s losing the child.”
Why did she go with him?
For the child.
It filled the Fairy with quiet satisfaction that Kami’en’s son chose the night to come into the world. Amalie feared the darkness so much, she always kept a dozen gaslights burning in her bedchamber, even though their pale light hurt her husband’s eyes.
Kami’en was standing next to Amalie’s bed. He turned as the servants opened the door for his mistress. For an instant,
the Fairy thought she could see in his eyes a shadow of the love she used to find there. Love. Hope. Fear. Dangerous emotions for a King, though Kami’en’s stone skin helped him hide them. More and more, he was starting to resemble one of the statues his human enemies erected for their
The startled midwife toppled a basin with bloody water as the Fairy approached Amalie’s bed. Even the doctors backed away from her. Goyl doctors, human doctors, Dwarf doctors. Their black frocks made them look like a murder of crows drawn in by the scent of death rather than anticipation of a new life.
Amalie’s doll face was swollen with fear and pain. The lashes around her violet-blue eyes were congealed with tears.
Fairy-lily eyes… The Dark Fairy thought she could see in those eyes the water of the lake that had once delivered her.
“Go away!” Amalie’s voice was hoarse from screaming.
“What do you want? Who called you?”
The Dark One pictured those violet eyes being snuffed out and that soft skin Kami’en so loved to touch turning cold and flaccid. The temptation to make her dead was so sweet.
Too bad the Fairy couldn’t indulge it, for a dead Doll would take Kami’en’s son with her.
“I know why you’re not letting the child out!” the Dark
One whispered in Amalie’s ear. “You’re afraid to look at him. But I won’t allow you to kill him with your dying flesh.
Deliver him, or I will have him cut out of you.”
How the Doll stared at her. The Fairy wasn’t sure whether the hatred in Amalie’s eyes revealed more fear or jealousy.
Maybe love bore fruit even more poisonous than fear.
Amalie squeezed the infant out. The midwife’s face turned into a contorted mask of horror and disgust. On the streets,
they already called him the Skinless Prince. But he did have a skin. The Fairy’s magic had given him one, as hard and as smooth as moonstone, and just as transparent. His skin revealed everything it covered: every sinew, every vein, the small skull, the eyeballs. Kami’en’s son looked like Death—or at least like his youngest spawn.
Amalie groaned and pressed her hands over her eyes.
Kami’en was the only one who looked at the baby without dread. The Dark Fairy took the slithery body and stroked the transparent skin with her six-fingered hand until it turned as red as his father’s, giving such beauty to the small face that now all the averted eyes turned back in enchantment to admire the newborn prince. Amalie reached out for her son, but the Fairy placed the baby in Kami’en’s arms. She did so without looking at the King, and when she stepped out into the dark hallway, he didn’t stop her.
The Dark Fairy had to pause halfway and struggle for breath on a balcony. Her hands trembled as she wiped her fingers on her dress, again and again, until she could no longer feel the warm body they’d touched.
There was no word for child in her language. There hadn’t been in a long time.