By Libba Bray
It’s 1895, and after the suicide of her mom, 16-year-old Gemma Doyle is distributed off from the lifestyles she is aware in India to Spence, a formal boarding university in England. Lonely, guilt-ridden, and at risk of visions of the long run that experience an uncomfortable behavior of coming precise, Gemma’s reception there's a cold one. To make issues worse, she’s been through a mysterious younger Indian guy, a guy despatched to monitor her. yet why? what's her future? And what is going to her entanglement with Spence’s strongest girls—and their foray into the religious world—lead to?
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Additional resources for A Great and Terrible Beauty (Gemma Doyle, Book 1)
The men are suddenly gone. They’ve disappeared into the moving crowd, leaving only their footprints in the dust. ” My mother’s voice is edged in steel. “It’s nothing. He was obviously deranged. ” I have never heard my mother sound this way. So hard. So afraid. “Gemma, I think it’s best if I go to Mrs. ” It’s a ridiculous thing to say, but it’s my birthday and while I don’t want to spend it in Mrs. Talbot’s sitting room, I certainly don’t want to waste the day alone at home, all because some black-cloaked madman and his cohort have spooked my mother.
Mrs. Nightwing’s brows furrow, her lips go tight. “That is the East Wing. It was destroyed in a fire years ago. We don’t use it anymore, so we’ve closed it off. Saves on heating. ” She swings past me. I start after her, then glance back, my eyes falling to the bottom of those locked doors, where there’s a one-inch crack of light. It may be the lateness of the day and the long journey, or the fact that I’m growing accustomed to seeing things, but I could swear that I see a shadow move along the floor behind the doors.
The thing hesitates, pulls back. It sniffs at the air, as if tracking a scent. The little girl turns her flat brown eyes to me. “Too late,” she says, just as the creature turns its unseeing eyes toward me. The decaying lips spread apart, revealing teeth like spikes. Dear God, the thing is grinning at me. It opens wide that horrible mouth and screeches—a sound that loosens my tongue at last. ” In an instant I’m back inside the carriage and leaning out the window, yelling at the couple. ” I shout, snapping at the horse’s rump with my shawl.
A Great and Terrible Beauty (Gemma Doyle, Book 1) by Libba Bray