Nicole Zoltack is a USA Today bestselling author who loves to write romances. Of course. She did marry her first kiss, after all!

When she's not writing about fae, vampires, or witches, she enjoys spending time with her loving husband, three energetic young boys, and three precious little girls. She enjoys riding horses (pretending they're unicorns, of course!) and going to the PA Renaissance Faire dressed in garb. She'll also read anything she can get her hands on. Her current favorite TV shows are The Witcher and Stranger Things.

Of Cinder and Madness by Nicole Zoltack

Cinderella's powers will destroy the Kingdom of Fantasia, and the only one who can save the kingdom is her "wicked" stepmother.

Lady Angelique puts her second husband to rest then tries to do right by her step-daughter Eleonore, but when Eleonore's mystical abilities put Angelique's own daughters' lives at risk, she makes the difficult decision to lock the girl in the tower to keep the family safe.

After Eleonore's devil-bird minions unleash her on an unsuspecting royal ball, Angelique must join forces with the king to save Fantasia before Eleonore destroys it.

Of Cinder and Madness also includes the short stories The Cost of Love, The Cost of Grief, and The Cost of Power.

CURATOR'S NOTE

Cinderella's stepmother takes the stage here, up against the wicked stepdaughter. All of Nicole's fairytale retellings use this great twist, where the hero of the original tale becomes the villain - a great way to spin these classic stories around and reimagine a different kind of happily ever after. – Anthea Sharp

 

REVIEWS

  • "A dark retelling that flips the original Cinderella story on its head."

    – Amazon review

  • "If you're a fan of fairy tale retellings, you are sure to enjoy this book."

    – Amazon review

  • "I really loved this wicked dark telling of Cinderella!"

    – Amazon review
 

BOOK PREVIEW

Excerpt

Another breeze blows by, the floral scent bringing a now-rare smile to my thin lips. A glorious spring day we had wed, much like today, actually. Yes, the first day of May in 1092 had been the most wonderful day in my life. Truly, that entire year had been the most blessed. For this past year since Jacques has passed, however, the kingdom has turned dark over our small corner. Fantasia seems to be caught in troubled times, but, no. No. I will deal with this. Eleonore is my stepdaughter. She is my charge. I will deal with her accordingly. Her actions have been terrible, and so she has forced my hand to be equally as terrible in return.

Moving faster now but not running, I ascend the rest of the stairs. Eleonore stands at the window, her back to me, hands clasped, wringing. Her accursed devil-birds flitter about so frantically their dark feathers fall about her, almost giving her a cloak or shield.

For a moment, I stand there, transfixed by the spectacle. The things she can do… Her terrible wrath…

I think some might stem from grief, but there's more to it. There must be. Guilt, perhaps. Could be that she… No. She would never. Then again, she had tried to poison her stepsisters and me.

A wicked, horrid girl. I've tried to help her. The sun knows I've tried. I am at my wit's end. If I cannot change her for the better, then I can shield her away from the world. I can shield her away from my family and myself.

My hand slips into the pocket of my long, satin dress. The coldness of the key sends a shiver down my spine, and I gasp slightly.

That sound is enough. Her birds react to my presence, and she turns to face me.

Our eyes lock. Her blue orbs look nothing like her father's, so hard, so unfeeling, so cold.

The air rushes out of me, as the world seems to stop. She's waiting for me to speak, to yell at her, to punish her. Yes, she must realize that what she has done is horrible, despicable. She must realize that the punishment is her doing, her fault. But I can't help hesitating. Am I certain there is nothing else I can do if there is anything I should have done? Is it possible that the blame does not rest on her shoulders but mine?

My indecision creates a bubble. The birds hover in mid-air, awaiting their dark princess's command. Yes, she is not dark in appearance, fair on all accounts, but her heart is far darker than anyone realizes. If I have to venture a guess, far darker than even I suspect.

No. I must be firm in my resolve. Now is not the time to allow grief and despair to color my actions. She must be held accountable for her own actions. It is not my hand forcing this upon her, but her own hand.

Shoving aside my doubt, cloaking myself in my fear, I remove the key from my pocket.

At once, her eyes flash with understanding, a flicker of an emotion, fear of her own or maybe acceptance. Then her birds swoop toward me as one massive swarm. I barely have time to close the door and lock it before they slam against it. Thud, thud, thud.

A minute passes and then another, and I lean against the heavy locked door with my eyes closed. It's done. She's barred. She's too far up. Her birds never leave her side for long, and only one at a time at that. We'll be fine now. We'll be safe.

I hope.

I pray.

I fear.