Welcome to author Hayden Thorne, who’s joining us today to celebrate the re-release of her brilliant and beautiful Young Adult Fantasy, Renfred’s Masquerade, a book that happens to be the first post/review ever to appear on The Novel Approach back on December 7, 2011. Hayden is sharing an excerpt from the book today and is also giving three lucky readers the opportunity to win an eCopy of the book, so be sure to check out the entry details below!

Inspiration

The main musical inspiration that got me on this amazing experience writing a novel with a physically disabled gay teen who becomes the prince who rescues a boy trapped in an enchanted ball. This is the piece of music that’s highlighted in the excerpt below, in which Nicola has a vision while dancing with Pierrot.

The following song was what I listened to when writing the earlier scenes involving Nicola and his father. I felt that it a bittersweet tribute to a very complicated relationship of a heartbroken father and his young son, who easily mistakes the older man’s distance for a lack of love.

About the Book

Young Nicola Gregori has always wanted to follow in the footsteps of his father, a brilliant clock-maker who’s famous for his wild, fantastical designs. But his father instead sends him to school to learn more practical matters. Nicola, stricken with infantile paralysis that left him with a deformed right leg, becomes an object of mockery and cruel jokes in school. He learns that in order to survive his daily ordeals, he needs to vanish in the crowd, to stop aspiring, to stop dreaming, and above all, to believe himself unworthy of respect and love.

Tragedy strikes when Nicola turns sixteen. Gustav Renfred, an old friend of his father, takes on Nicola as his charge and whisks him away to an isolated islet filled with empty mansions and bordered by a bluebell forest. There Nicola slowly learns about the tragic story that tightly weaves together the fates of Jacopo Gregori, Gustav Renfred, and Gustav’s twin sister, Constanza.

Magic, impossible dreams, and unrequited love come together in Ambrosi, the Renfreds’ mansion, where Nicola is caught up in a world of haunting portraits, a ghostly housekeeper, and the mysterious disappearance of Davide, Constanza’s adopted son. When Nicola’s invited to one of Renfred’s magical masquerades, he discovers the answers to riddles as well as the mounting danger that the Renfred family faces with every passing hour.

With the masquerades’ existence depending on the physical and mental strength of an ailing Renfred, the task of solving the mystery of Davide’s disappearance before time runs out falls on Nicola’s shoulders, and he has no choice but to depend on things that he’s long learned to suppress: courage, self-respect, and the desire to aim for impossible goals.

Buy Renfred’s Masquerade: Universal Buy Link

The Excerpt

From Chapter 9:

He felt a hand cover one of his and give it a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t be sorry, and don’t feel badly about this. I’m glad you’re here.”

Nicola looked up and found himself falling deep into a pair of light blue eyes, and he swallowed. Pierrot was gazing down at him, a faint smile lighting up his pale and rather tired face, and Nicola wished that he could somehow get rid of that air of sadness that continued to cast a shadow on the young man.

“I’m glad I came, too, even if this has all been strange and confusing to me.”

“That’s the nature of magic, isn’t it?”

Pierrot’s awareness of the masquerade’s magical character took Nicola by surprise. It made Pierrot stand out all the more against a backdrop of a glittering yet insensible assembly, which further convinced Nicola that Pierrot must have been conjured specifically for him for the sake of good company till the end. He grinned, unable to help himself, and nodded. “I should stop thinking too much,” he said with a chuckle. “It only shows that I’m not very good at enjoying life.”

“Well, all that excessive thinking will help you someday.”

“What, even during a magical masquerade like this?”

Pierrot shrugged, his gaze still fixed on Nicola. “Why not?”

“Logic doesn’t have a place in something like this,” Nicola countered with some confidence. “It’ll break the spell.”

Pierrot laughed now, again taking one of Nicola’s hands in his own, this time keeping it in his warm hold. “Maybe that’s the purpose of your being here, don’t you think?”

“And why should I want to ruin things? I might be confused by magic, but I enjoy it. It’s so unusual and beautiful.” He tried to avoid looking at his companion when he spoke those final words but found that he couldn’t. Pierrot, even hidden under a mask and a shapeless and colorless costume, was very attractive, and Nicola fought off the urge to remove the young man’s mask in order to see and appreciate those pale, sad features without any hindrance.

“Magic might be wonderful and beautiful and rich with possibilities, but it has its limits. It can also be dangerous in the hands of those who don’t understand it or who can’t fully comprehend the enormity of its power.” The hand covering Nicola’s tightened a little.

“Then I think it’s up to someone who’s ignorant of all that to come and save the day, isn’t it?” Nicola grinned, and in a bold move, he turned his hand over and laced their fingers together, making it his turn to give his partner’s hand a reassuring squeeze. It was nothing more than make-believe, after all, and he felt safe, even as he marveled at Pierrot’s insights on magic. Was the other boy created to keep Nicola’s feet on the ground? It was likely, for while Nicola had long known the dangers of mistaking fantasy for reality, being immersed in a gorgeous make-believe world such as that evening’s masquerade would have easily compromised his pragmatic side, especially with such a partner.

Pierrot stared at him, wide-eyed at first, and then dropped his gaze to their clasped hands. When he raised his eyes again, Nicola thought he saw a faint shimmer of moisture edging Pierrot’s eyes, but if he did see it, it only lasted for a fraction of a second. Pierrot blinked, the imagined tears were gone, and Nicola was aware of music coming from the ballroom.

“If you’re rested, perhaps you’d like to join me again in another dance,” Pierrot said.

“I’d love to.”

The young man released him and, before Nicola could say a word in protest, went down on his knees to help slip Nicola’s feet back in his shoes. The act was quick and smooth, done without a word exchanged between them, but there was something frighteningly exciting about the whole thing, with Nicola holding his breath and feeling himself blush for the dozenth time that evening as he watched in stunned amazement. That Pierrot’s hands lingered around each ankle after the corresponding shoe’s straps were secured only stoked the fires of the surprising intimacy of a few seconds’ time.

“Thank you,” Nicola stammered, and his partner stood up in one fluid move, offering a hand to help him up.

As they walked back to the ballroom, hand in hand, the heat that suffused Nicola’s face didn’t abate, though the languid strains of a pretty barcarolle distracted him a little from his embarrassment. They took their places again among the revelers, and while Nicola had never heard of people dancing to a barcarolle, they nevertheless managed to do so in what could only be described as a modified waltz. The movements were slower, more intimate, and less conducive to laughter and high-spirited exchanges. Partners held each other close, devoted all their attention to each other, and moved in graceful circles around the ballroom as though they were the only people left alive in the world.

For Nicola, the moment was beyond magical. His partner kept his attention on him, the intensity of Pierrot’s gaze softened by that melancholy that had shown itself earlier and continued to cast a palpable shadow over him. Nicola tried to smile to set him at ease, but for all his trouble, he could only manage to encourage a faint curl of a pale mouth, and he grew tired of being cheerful even before the music ended.

For better or for worse, the piece to which they all danced was a long one, and to avoid being dragged down by his partner’s silent moodiness, Nicola tried to imagine a clockwork oarsman navigating its boat through the dark, silent waters around the island, its strokes keeping time with the music. As the seconds passed and the world continued to move in graceful circles around them, Nicola’s imagination continued to be fed, the images growing more and more elaborate—more concrete, even.

He saw that the clockwork oarsman was not only rowing its boat in the moonlight, but that it also had two passengers—like shadows—sitting close together, with one leaning heavily—perhaps tiredly—against the other. The shadow that was leaning was shorter, its head resting against its partner’s shoulder as though it were lost in deep sleep. The other shadow allowed its companion to pillow its head against it, though its own head drooped as well, bowing forward and then slowly turning to the side so that its head, too, leaned against the top of its partner’s in its turn. In the darkness, their slumbering silhouettes gave Nicola the impression that they were travelers who’d finally reached the end of their journey and were about to disembark.

He wasn’t sure if it was nothing more than the effect of the music itself, with its moderate tempo and dreamlike melody, but something impressed upon him that those two shadows in the boat weren’t returning, that their journey was something that had been delayed for far too long. Maybe to a cruel extent, even. But whatever the nature of their journey across the quiet waters, it was meant to be their last.

Nicola was startled out of his state by the slight touch of a finger against his cheek, and he blinked. Pierrot was watching him, a slight frown marring his masked features now.

“Are you all right?”

“What—me? I am, yes. I’m sorry, the music overcame me for a moment.” Nicola chuckled, feeling sheepish.

His partner continued to frown slightly, and he touched Nicola’s cheek again, this time raising his finger before Nicola to show moisture on it. It was only then when Nicola realized that he’d been crying, and he was shocked. That image of the tired couple in a boat struck him hard, something that his imagination had never done before. The strong sense of tragic inevitability rose from that image and helped engrave its sad shapes in Nicola’s mind. It was so odd, the way a simple romantic “daydream” would affect him so much and, indeed, feel so real.

He said nothing and shook his head, this time taking the initiative and changing their pace when the barcarolle ended, and a spirited waltz took its place. He barely heard the distant tolling of a bell—the same one that called out to him earlier—fighting to be heard over the raucous activity in the ballroom. And as though to remind him, someone in the assembly cried out, “One o’clock! Two more hours!” A cheer rippled through the dancers, and as though in one mind, everyone hurled themselves into the waltz with renewed energy. It seemed like a race against time, with a normally empty ballroom filled with specters intent on devouring every possible second in their grasp till the three o’clock hour.

About the Author

I’ve lived most of my life in the San Francisco Bay Area though I wasn’t born there (or, indeed, the USA). I’m married with no kids and three cats and am a cycling nut. I started off as a writer of young adult fiction, specializing in contemporary fantasy, historical fantasy, and historical genres. My books ranged from a superhero fantasy series to reworked and original folktales to Victorian ghost fiction. I’ve since expanded to New Adult fiction, which reflects similar themes as my YA books and varies considerably in terms of romantic and sexual content. While I’ve published with a small press in the past, I now self-publish my books.

The Giveaway

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