Release date:
Subgenre: Fairy Tale, Fantasy Romance
About Mirror Of My Heart:
When the happily ever after isn’t the one you expect…
Once upon a time, a spoiled princess met her youthful new stepmother, a woman as cold as she was beautiful…or so she seemed.
Once upon a time, a queen burdened a girl with harsh tasks, yet never heavier than she could bear…and so a princess became strong and wise.
Once upon a time, in the midst of loneliness, two hearts touched love…until a king returned from war to find his daughter grown into the very likeness of her dead mother.
Now fled to the forest, her beloved a prisoner, can Snow White win her happily ever after?
Once upon a time, a spoiled princess met her youthful new stepmother, a woman as cold as she was beautiful…or so she seemed.
Once upon a time, a queen burdened a girl with harsh tasks, yet never heavier than she could bear…and so a princess became strong and wise.
Once upon a time, in the midst of loneliness, two hearts touched love…until a king returned from war to find his daughter grown into the very likeness of her dead mother.
Now fled to the forest, her beloved a prisoner, can Snow White win her happily ever after?
“A sexy Sapphic Snow White retelling.”
Lorelei Esther, Hugo Finalist
“A refreshing reinvention of a timeless classic…with a juicy forbidden fruit romance.”
Robin Rose Graves, The Book Wormhole
Excerpt:
The first thing to catch my eye was her hair. Most people I knew were dark-haired and pale-skinned like myself. Her hair shone in the afternoon sunlight, making the gold jewelry she wore seem dull in comparison. I wondered vaguely if she might be a political match with our northern enemies. But there had been no public wedding, no display of pomp and wealth and reconciliation, just this abrupt return. Perhaps a captive bride, then?
She met my gaze serenely, too self-possessed for one being held against her will. Her eyes were a remarkable shade of blue, brighter than I would have thought possible, and fringed with startlingly dark lashes. She seemed like a lovely porcelain doll, far too beautiful to be real.
“Come closer,” she bade me.
She did not smile, but looked me over with a cool, serious expression. “Yes, a lovely young woman,” she said. “Skin as white as snow, hair as dark as night, lips as red as blood, just as they say.” After a long moment, she nodded as though to herself and said, “I will call you Snow White.”
I blinked. “But stepmother, my name is—”
She shook her head, stopping me. “Never give someone your True name, child.”
“But everyone already knows—”
Her eyes turned cold. “Are you arguing with me, Snow White?”
A chill ran down the back of my neck. “N-no, your majesty.”
She nodded, the frigid quality fading somewhat from her expression. “You may call me,” the smallest of smiles tugged at the corner of her lips as I watched, startled and suddenly unable to look away, “Alcina. There is no need of any other name or title between us.”
Curtseying again, I said, “Yes, Alcina.”
“Good,” she said. There was a moment of something which in a person with less poise I might have called ‘hesitation’. When she spoke again, her voice was as even as ever. “I cannot replace your mother,” she said. “But perhaps we can be friends.”
I stared.
Friends?
I tried to imagine my father saying such a thing—to me, to any child suddenly under his care, to anyone at all—and could not.
This woman would dictate my life going forward. While the servants might hesitate to punish me, allowing me to run wild and do as I pleased, surely she would not. And yet, even as I tried to cling to my anger, I felt it melting away like ice under a hot sun, a new fascination taking root in its place.
This woman, regal and proud and everything a queen should be, wanted to be friends with me? The wild princess? The little hellion?
I barely managed to swallow back a laugh. Well, she would learn her mistake soon enough. I always played at being obedient while my father was there, but it wouldn’t last. Once she saw what I was really like, she would be rolling her eyes with exasperation and snapping with frustration just like everyone else.
And yet, “I would like that, your majesty,” I found myself saying, and meaning it.
I hated the thought of giving up what little freedom I had managed to wrench from my restrictive life. But I couldn’t quite hate her.
“Good,” she repeated, this time in obvious dismissal.
She met my gaze serenely, too self-possessed for one being held against her will. Her eyes were a remarkable shade of blue, brighter than I would have thought possible, and fringed with startlingly dark lashes. She seemed like a lovely porcelain doll, far too beautiful to be real.
“Come closer,” she bade me.
She did not smile, but looked me over with a cool, serious expression. “Yes, a lovely young woman,” she said. “Skin as white as snow, hair as dark as night, lips as red as blood, just as they say.” After a long moment, she nodded as though to herself and said, “I will call you Snow White.”
I blinked. “But stepmother, my name is—”
She shook her head, stopping me. “Never give someone your True name, child.”
“But everyone already knows—”
Her eyes turned cold. “Are you arguing with me, Snow White?”
A chill ran down the back of my neck. “N-no, your majesty.”
She nodded, the frigid quality fading somewhat from her expression. “You may call me,” the smallest of smiles tugged at the corner of her lips as I watched, startled and suddenly unable to look away, “Alcina. There is no need of any other name or title between us.”
Curtseying again, I said, “Yes, Alcina.”
“Good,” she said. There was a moment of something which in a person with less poise I might have called ‘hesitation’. When she spoke again, her voice was as even as ever. “I cannot replace your mother,” she said. “But perhaps we can be friends.”
I stared.
Friends?
I tried to imagine my father saying such a thing—to me, to any child suddenly under his care, to anyone at all—and could not.
This woman would dictate my life going forward. While the servants might hesitate to punish me, allowing me to run wild and do as I pleased, surely she would not. And yet, even as I tried to cling to my anger, I felt it melting away like ice under a hot sun, a new fascination taking root in its place.
This woman, regal and proud and everything a queen should be, wanted to be friends with me? The wild princess? The little hellion?
I barely managed to swallow back a laugh. Well, she would learn her mistake soon enough. I always played at being obedient while my father was there, but it wouldn’t last. Once she saw what I was really like, she would be rolling her eyes with exasperation and snapping with frustration just like everyone else.
And yet, “I would like that, your majesty,” I found myself saying, and meaning it.
I hated the thought of giving up what little freedom I had managed to wrench from my restrictive life. But I couldn’t quite hate her.
“Good,” she repeated, this time in obvious dismissal.
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About Laura Weyr:
When it comes to fusing elaborate high fantasy with steamy queer
romance, no one does it better than five-time Hugo Finalist Laura Weyr!
Her first full-length novel, The Eighth Key, won the 2021 Rainbow Award for Best Gay Fantasy Romance. Mirror of My Heart, a “sexy sapphic Snow White retelling” coming out late Fall 2023, promises to captivate, too!
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