Our Sweet Guillotine
by Mary Gray
A delightfully dark French Revolution-era gothic romance about a young executioner who falls for the daughter of a woman he had to kill...
Tempeste has survived much choosing to live on Paris’ streets–scavenging for food, learning survival skills from a deserter whom she paid to attack her in her sleep, and living a life her mother would approve of, one devoid of luxury. But denying oneself of food and proper bedding can stir a madness in the brain. So, when Tempeste witnesses the quick and painless death of the guillotine–the death her mother should have received–she vows to find her mother’s accuser and vivisect his spleen.
Quite by accident, Gabriel, the young executioner responsible for Tempeste’s mother’s botched hanging, falls for Tempeste. So, instead of strolling arm-in-arm with a respectable mademoiselle through the gardens of the Palais de l’Égalité, Gabriel finds himself traipsing after an axe-carrying siren through the catacombs and facing off a hostile sans culottes army.
With little choice but to fight, Gabriel determines to win the hearts of the sans culottes, while Tempeste proves she’s quite adept at swinging the blade. When the pair finally make their way to Tempeste’s sworn enemy, though, a secret is revealed which promises to sever far more than they ever hoped to gain.
A historically accurate gothic romance that will appeal to readers of all ages who enjoy exploring the dark side of humanity, but who also crave redemption and forgiveness.
Her Dark Fantasy
An Our Sweet Guillotine Prequel
by Mary Gray
A short story prequel. Average read time is 20 minutes or less.
The young executioner, he must die.
He plans to torture and hang Maman, but he cannot separate a young mademoiselle from her mother, can he?
His gentle hands place the spike into the studded boot that houses her foot, and I flinch.
“Je suis désolé,” he says sorrowfully.
Day-old blood splatters the window. My mind’s a colony of bees.
He lifts the hammer, and the light of the moon glints off the blunt instrument’s face.
I press my fingertips to the glass to reach Maman, but she is in there and I am out here, and it would break Maman’s and Papa’s hearts if I exposed myself this way.
I’ll take that fine face of his into my hands—and snap his neck.
That is what he rightfully gets, for taking my maman from me.