Enchanted

A Kirkus Best Teen Book of 2012 A World Book Night Selection An ALA Top Ten Best Fiction for Young Adults Selection An Andre Norton Award Nominee * "A fabulous fairy-tale mashup that deserves hordes of avid readers. Absolutely delectable."—Kirkus Reviews, starred review * "Kontis delivers a fairy-tale mash-up that outright sparkles."—School Library Journal, starred review "Fantasy readers will undoubtedly enjoy the . . . mash-up of these famous stories, spiced with comedy, romance and magical powers."—VOYA "A wonderful mix-up of fairy-tale tropes, a clever love story, and a delightful tale all on its own!"—Tamora Pierce "A charming tumble of fairy tales, spiced with humor and sprinkled with true love." —Sharon Shinn, best-selling author of the Samaria series "If Neil Gaiman and the Brothers Grimm had a child who grew up to weave fairy tales, she would be Alethea Kontis. Read this book—it’s an absolute winner."—J.T. Ellison, best-selling author of Where All the Dead Lie "As mischievous as a garden full of fairies and twice as clever, Enchanted proves there’s more than life left in the oldest genre in the world—there’s a lot of heart, too." —Sean Williams, New York Times best-selling author "Kontis is a born spell-caster and her work is spellbinding. In the style of great fairy tales, Kontis has created a delightful, heartfelt new classic that can charm the sun out from behind the clouds." —Leanna Renee Hieber, author of the Strangely Beautiful and Magic Most Foul series "Alethea Kontis’s debut is full of inventive whimsy. Take your favorite fairytale and spin it to the side, throw in a half-dozen other tales all dancing, and you get this Enchanted ball."—Mary Robinette Kowal, award-winning author of Shades of Milk and Honey "It's the relaxed humor of Kontis' presentation that not only ups the realism of characters unfazed by talking frogs and fey characters but also gives this offering its sweet, distinctive stamp."—Booklist

Autorentext
ALETHEA KONTIS is the author of the Woodcutter Sisters series, which includes Enchanted, Hero, and Dearest. She is also the New York Times best-selling co-author of Sherrilyn Kenyon’s The Dark-Hunter Companion. Alethea was a student of science fiction greats Andre Norton and Orson Scott Card. She lives and writes on Florida's Space Coast. Visit her website at www.aletheakontis.com.

Klappentext
It isn't easy being the rather overlooked and unhappy youngest sibling to sisters named for the other six days of the week. Sunday's only comfort is writing stories, although what she writes has a terrible tendency to come true.
When Sunday meets an enchanted frog who asks about her stories, the two become friends. Soon that friendship deepens into something magical. One night Sunday kisses her frog goodbye and leaves, not realizing that her love has transformed him back into Rumbold, the crown prince of Arilland?and a man Sunday's family despises.
The prince returns to his castle, intent on making Sunday fall in love with him as the man he is, not the frog he was. But Sunday is not so easy to woo. How can she feel such a strange, strong attraction for this prince she barely knows? And what twisted secrets lie hidden in his past?and hers?

Leseprobe
1: Fool’s Gold and Fairy StonesMy name is Sunday Woodcutter, and I am doomed to a happy life. I am the seventh daughter of Jack and Seven Woodcutter, Jack a seventh son and Seven a seventh daughter herself. Papa’s dream was to give birth to the charmed, all-powerful Seventh Son of a Seventh Son. Mama told him seven girls or seven boys, whichever came first. Jack Junior was first. Papa was elated. His dream died the morning I popped out, blithe and bonny and good and gay, seven daughters later. Fortunately, coming first did not stop Jack Junior from being a wunderkind. I never knew my eldest sibling, but I know his legend. All of Arilland’s children grew up in Jack’s shadow, his younger siblings more than most. I have never known a time when I wasn’t surrounded by the overdramatic songs and stories of Jack Junior’s exploits. A good number of new ones continue to spring up about the countryside to this very day. I have heard them all. (Well, all but the Forbidden Tale. I’m not old enough for that one yet.) But I know the most important tale: the tale of his demise, while he served in the King’s Royal Guard. One day, in a fit of pique or passion (depending on the bard), he killed Prince Rumbold’s prized pup. As punishment, the prince’s evil fairy godmother witched Jack Junior into a mutt and forced him to take the pup’s place. He was never heard from again. They say my family was never the same after that. I wish I could know my father as tales portray him then: loud, confident, and opinionated. Now he is simply a strong, quiet man, content with his place in life. It is no secret that Papa harbors no loyalty to the royal family of Arilland, but he has never said a word against them.My second-eldest brother’s name is Peter. My third brother is Trix. Trix was a foundling child that Papa discovered in the limbs of a tree at the edge of the Wood one winter’s workday before I was born. The way Mama tells it, Trix was a son she didn’t have to give birth to, and he made Papa happy. She already had too many children to feed, what was one more? My sisters and I—"What are you doing?" Sunday’s head snapped up from her journal. She had chosen this spot for its solitude, followed the half-hidden path through the underbrush to the decaying rocks of the abandoned well, sure that she had escaped her family. And yet, the voice that had interrupted her thoughts was not familiar to her. Her eyes took a moment to adjust, slowly focusing on the mottled shadows the afternoon sun cast through dancing leaves. "I’m sorry?" She posed the polite query to her unknown visitor in an effort to make him reveal himself, be he real or imagined, dead or alive, fairy or— "I said, ‘What are you doing?’ " —frog.Sunday forced her gaping mouth closed. Caught off-guard, she sputtered the truth: "I’m telling myself stories." The frog considered her answer. He balanced himself on his spotted hind legs and blinked at her with his bulbous eyes. "Why? Do you have no one to whom you can tell them?" Apart from his interruption, he maintained an air of polite decorum. He’s smart, too, Sunday thought. He must have been a human before being cursed. Animals of the Wood only ever spoke in wise riddles and almost-truths. "I have quite a large family, actually, with lots of stories. Only . . ." "Only what?" "Only no one wants to hear them." "I do," said the frog. "Read me your story, the story you have just written there, and I will listen." She liked this frog. Sunday smiled, but slowly closed her book. "You don’t want to hear this story." "Why not?" "It’s not very interesting." "What’s it about?" "It’s about me. That’s why none of my family wants to hear it. They already know all about me." The frog stretched out on his sun-dappled rock like he was settling into a chaise lounge. She could tell from his body language—so much more human than frog—there would be no tur…

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