The Thorn and the Blossom: A Two-Sided Love Story
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One enchanting romance. Two lovers keeping secrets. And a uniquely crafted book that binds their stories forever.
When Evelyn Morgan walked into the village bookstore, she didn’t know she would meet the love of her life. When Brendan Thorne handed her a medieval romance, he didn’t know it would change the course of his future. It was almost as if they were the cursed lovers in the old book itself . . .
The Thorn and the Blossom is a remarkable literary artifact: You can open the book in either direction to decide whether you’ll first read Brendan’s, or Evelyn’s account of the mysterious love affair. Choose a side, read it like a regular novel—and when you get to the end, you’ll find yourself at a whole new beginning.
roommate who’s related to the queen? Lady Chloe Spencer-Morecott. And if I used some of the words she does, my mother would wash my mouth out with soap! Seriously. I thought you all were supposed to be so proper.” “We all?” he said. “There’s an enormous difference between me and Lady Chloe Whatever. I’m just a poor boy from Cornwall.” “Well, I’m just a—” He could tell that, for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. Perhaps because she couldn’t call herself a “poor” anything. It was obvious,
breath, Elowen told Gawan that she would be with him again after the thousand years had passed: Have patience, love, and we shall meet again As surely as wild roses have their thorns For weary years eventually pass. It’s not a great translation. Very Victorian.” “That’s terrible!” said Evelyn. “Not the translation, I mean. The idea. A thousand years!” “Well, at least she’d know he truly loved her, after that.” Brendan looked out toward the sea, a serious expression on his face. Oh, so he
was one of those romantic types! “I suppose,” said Evelyn. “Still, who wants to wait around that long for a boyfriend?” “Oh, you’re a cynic! How American.” He stood up. “Come on, I’m going to take you to the pub for some real Cornish cider.” “That’s not American!” she said. “That’s just … me.” She stood too and looked around one last time at Gawan’s Court, with its circle of standing stones. It had definitely been worth the climb. Evelyn worried that she was spending too much time with
far as I’m concerned you’re a very strong candidate.” So that was good, wasn’t it? she thought as she walked back to her car. Where Brendan Thorne was waiting. “Evelyn Morgan,” he said. “You know you’re going to get this position, don’t you? Not because of your qualifications, although they’re quite adequate, but because the department is desperate to have someone in place by September.” She didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry that, when you kissed me years ago, I ran away screaming. I have a
had happened in Clews so long ago. “I’m not going to run away,” she said. “I promise.” He looked particularly handsome under the porch light, with his hands in his jacket pockets. It was October, already starting to get cold. “All right.” He smiled, put his hand on her cheek—how well she remembered that gesture—and leaned down. His kiss was soft, tentative and then, when he realized that this time she wasn’t going to run away, passionate, insistent. “Do you want to come in?” she said,