Release: September 24, 2013
The thrilling sequel to Sharon Cameron’s blockbuster gothic steampunk romance, THE DARK UNWINDING, will captivate readers anew with mystery and intrigue aplenty.
When Katharine Tulman wakes in the middle of the night and accidentally foils a kidnapping attempt on her uncle, she realizes Stranwyne Keep is no longer safe for Uncle Tully and his genius inventions. She flees to Paris, where she hopes to remain undetected and also find the mysterious and handsome Lane, who is suspected to be dead.
But the search for Lane is not easy, and Katharine soon finds herself embroiled in a labyrinth of political intrigue. And with unexpected enemies and allies at every turn, Katharine will have to figure out whom she can trust–if anyone–to protect her uncle from danger once and for all.
Filled with deadly twists, whispering romance, and heart-stopping suspense, this sequel to THE DARK UNWINDING whisks readers off on another thrilling adventure.
Uncle Tully, THEN:
From The Dark Unwinding
My uncle was staring at the paper in my hand, the blue eyes unblinking, blood burgeoning beneath the wrinkles of his skin. His arm seemed to twitch, and before I could move or even comprehend what was happening, something made of glass had flown from my uncle’s hand and exploded, smashing into a thousand shards on the desk beside me. I stood there, dumbfounded, bits of glass sticking to my dress. The minuet played on, oblivious.
“No!” my uncle screamed. He was shaking, his red face something demonic. “No, no, no!”
Lane sprang forward, hands out. “Put it down!” he shouted over his shoulder.
I dropped the peacock drawing as if it burned, still staring, but not before uncle Tulman had launched himself at me, arms outstretched.
Uncle Tully, NOW:
From A Spark Unseen
The knot in my insides was now an agonizing weight, the tears I could not prevent rolling freely down my cheeks. The clocks in the room struck a multi-note clang, marking the half hour. I felt a feather-light touch on my sleeve.
“Here, Simon’s baby,” said Uncle Tully. I looked down to see the brass flower sitting in his palm. When I waited, he pushed it into my hand. “Here. You like the flower.”
I took the intricate, shining thing, amazed at this freedom, feeling its weight like a bloom of pure gold in my hands. And Uncle Tully had given it to me to hold. He might as well have told me he loved me.
Find Sharon Cameron:
Website - sharoncameronbooks.com
Twitter -@CameronSharonE
Facebook - http://on.fb.me/19zQcRl
