By Megan Shepherd

With proposal from Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, this breathless end to the Madman's Daughter trilogy—perfect for fanatics of Libba Bray—explores the issues we'll sacrifice to save lots of these we like . . . even our personal humanity.

After killing the lads who attempted to thieve her father's learn, Juliet—along with Montgomery, Lucy, Balthazar, and a deathly unwell Edward—has escaped to a distant property at the Scottish moors. Owned by means of the enigmatic Elizabeth von Stein, the mansion is filled with mysteries and unexplained oddities: lifeless our bodies within the basement, mystery passages, and fortune-tellers who appear to be aware of Juliet's secrets and techniques. notwithstanding it sounds as if to be a secure haven, Juliet fears new risks could be current in the manor's personal walls.

Then she uncovers the reality in regards to the manor's lengthy historical past of medical experimentation—and her personal meant function in it—which forces her to figure out the place the road falls among correct and incorrect, lifestyles and dying, magic and technological know-how, and can provide and secrets and techniques. Juliet needs to make a decision if she'll keep on with her father's darkish footsteps or her mother's tragic ones—or make her personal.

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Additional resources for A Cold Legacy (The Madman's Daughter, Book 3)

Sample text

Shit! Shit!

How could I ever forget the man who’d been turned out of the family home like a mad dog, I got a good laugh out of him a couple of months back, a pathetic guy who now goes round wearing Pampers diapers, like a newborn baby, far be it from me to laugh at his condition but that’s the sad truth and I hadn’t asked him for anything, all I did was look him in the eye and he said, like it was a declaration of war, “What you looking at me for Broken Glass, you want my photo, or something, leave me alone, go and look at those others down there, chatting in the corner,” I kept my cool, kept my serenity, there’s no point answering back with nohopers like him, but I did just say “hey man, I’m just looking at you like I look at anyone,” “yeah, but you’re looking at me strange, you don’t go round looking at people like that,” and I said, still keeping calm and cool, “how d’you know I’m looking at you if you’re not looking at me” and that seemed to really fix him, he was caught in his own trap there, because he said something like “not gonna speak, not gonna tell you nothing about my life, my life’s not up for auction,” and from then on I knew he was sunk, I wasn’t going to listen to that, there are people like that, there’s something Broken Glass | 23 they want to spit out, so they get to teasing you, pushing you about so they can convince themselves they had no choice but to talk, I’ve been analyzing customer psychology at Credit Gone West for years now, I’ve seen that kind of behavior before, “I’m not asking you to talk, brother, you don’t know me, you should ask around, the name’s Broken Glass, no one ever saw me ask a man for the user’s manual to his life, or to sell me his life at auction” and he wound up by saying “Broken Glass, life is so complicated, it all began the day I came home at five in the morning, I swear, and that day I noticed the lock had been changed, because I couldn’t get the key in, so I couldn’t get into my own house, which I’d rented myself, even found it myself, put down the deposit, I swear on the life of my mother and my father and my six children, I stumped up twelve months of rent including this one before I moved in a single fork, and I’ll tell you this I was the only one with a job, I’m not even going to talk about my wife now, or I’ll get mad before I’m started, she’s not a wife, she’s just a pot of faded flowers, a tree that bears no fruit, she’s not a woman, I tell you, she’s just a whole sack of problems, and there she was, living as easy as a potato from Bobo Dioulasso, easy as a capitalist, just sat there waiting for me to bring home the readies, there she was hanging about all day long, chatting from morning till night with divorced old bags and widows from Trois-Cents, old witches wrapped in stinking pagnes, evil bitches who whiten their skin, shrews who straighten their hair to look like whites, while the whites braid theirs to look like the black women, you see my problem, Broken Glass, there was my wife, hanging out with all these tarts who make out they’re going to church when in fact they’re off to meet their shitty little lovers, I’m telling you, the amount of casual fornication in the churches down there, they don’t even respect the house of God, I don’t know where God’s got to anyway, He’s 24 | Alain Mabanckou not in those churches, I tell you, those shrews and viragoes are convinced if God does exist, he forgives everything, whatever the sin, and whoever it is has done some idiot thing forbidden by the Jerusalem Bible, I tell you there’s some serious fornicating going on in our local churches, no better place for an orgy, some group sex, no better place than the so-called houses of God that sprout up everywhere, everyone knows, even the government people, some of whom actually finance these holy sex dens, but they’re not real churches, they’re run by religious nuts with shaved heads who exploit, pervert, rewrite, dishonor, seize hold of, abuse and profane the Jerusalem Bible and organize real-life orgies with the faithful, men and women, yes, not to mention the homos, the pedophiles, the zoophiles, and the lesbians, all going at it between prayers, between two Hail Marys, they do it when they go on pilgrimage too, to the high peaks of Loango, Ndjili, and Diosso, when they’re meant to be meditating, away from us sinners here below, we of little faith, we philistines, we lost sheep, Pharisees, you’re kidding, they go there for casual fornication, and what I say, loud and clear, is “Come down Moses” they’ve gone mad, doing this stuff on a pilgrimage to the three mountains, and my wife got caught up in all this shit with their guru, she just worships him to death, I tell you this guru, he’s been spawning children all over the place, with young girls who can’t even change their own tampon when the Red Sea tide comes sweeping in, I tell you this guru guy, he’s got money, lots of it, he could keep this district fed through a whole century of American embargo, it comes from you, this money, and it comes from me, and it comes from every single person in this country, I tell you he’s superrich, he’s a charlatan, he knows all the high-up guys in the administration, he’s got some photo of himself with the prime minister, and one with the President and General of the Armies, with the colonels in our army, and it Broken Glass | 25 seems he’s also the one who provides half the animals distributed to the poor at the festival of the goat, he has his own TV program every Sunday, looking all serious, talking like a black American preacher, and when he speaks on TV he threatens wrongdoers, tells them they’re bound for hellfire and the Last Judgment and the rest, that’s how he recruits his followers, that’s how he rakes in these massive sums of money, there’s a telephone number goes up on the screen while he’s talking and he has children sitting round him, dressed in white and singing songs of praise to him instead of to the Lord, and people compete to give more than the next guy because they think the more you give this crook, the closer you get to the gates of paradise, but I don’t like the way he looks, this guy, he looks like a statue of a fat, mean little Buddha, vicious even, how can you oppose a crook like him, when the army’s supplying him with soldiers for his personal security, eh, even if you want to see him you have to make an appointment weeks in advance, and his secretaries won’t let just anyone near him, so you see it’s not a simple tale of God the Father, it’s business, pure and simple, let’s speak plainly here, it’s a successful business and another thing, this guy has a whole harem up in the mountains of Loango, Ndjili, and Diosso, and it’s one big sex spree up there, everyone’s at it, and so my wife abandoned the marital home for a week, and went off up into the mountains, not even sacred mountains, they weren’t, though to her they were “mountains of the soul” the Pampers guy seemed to be struggling for words that day, but all at once he got into his stride and went on with his story, without even checking I was listening: “so you see, Broken Glass, my wife has the nerve to say I’m not allowed out, when I’m telling you, she had no right to tell me what to do, I paid all the bills, but 26 | Alain Mabanckou she made all the rules, who ever heard of a thing like that, in this crumbling world, eh, no one, that’s who, she thinks she can stop me from spoiling myself a little from time to time, as a man has a right to, with the hot little numbers down in the Rex District, you know what I mean, what was I supposed to do with myself while the guru was giving my wife a going over in the high mountains of Loango, Ndjili, and Diosso, eh, what was I supposed to do, fold my arms and watch from the sidelines, reading my Jerusalem Bible, eh, keep the house nice, eh, make her meals, eh, make me a cuckold, okay, but a posthumous cuckold please, make me a cuckold, but not with the connivance of the church brigade, not with the connivance of people who are meant to be showing us the way to the gates of paradise, you know some days, I wonder if some of my kids, all except the girl who looks like me, aren’t the guru’s kids, anyway, what am I supposed to do with myself, eh, it’s true I love those hot little things down around the Rex District, yeah, I love the taste of young girl, especially from down there, real belles du seigneur, they are, they know how to handle the Ding-an-sich, they’re born with it, you’ll never know fear and trembling like that in the marital bed, they’re amazing, Broken Glass, they’re little volcanoes, they promise you the earth and then they give it to you, all gift-wrapped, while the women back home are just one big disappointment, those hot little numbers from the Rex District, wow are they hot, they’re like rubber, like elastic, it’s sharp, it’s sweet, it’s frenzied, they whisper in your ear, they’re with your erection every fraction of the way, they know just where to touch you to wake the slumbering alternator, they know how to keep you from stalling at the roundabout, how to get your turbine turning, slip through the gears, accelerate, you feel happy, like you got your whole life before you, and you know how it is, Broken Glass, it was my Broken Glass | 27 money, I had a right to spend it as I wanted, I reckon, why’d she go breaking my balls like that, eh, I’ll tell you something, she was no good at it anyway, my wife, if she had been I’d have stayed at home like the other assholes in the district, but she just lay there, my wife did, staring up at the roof, got no choice but to pick my nails and think about the slender little bodies of the Rex girls, she could at least have tried to fake a bit of pleasure, while I was pumping away on top of her like some mediocre cyclist in the Tour de Trois-Cents, I’ll tell you an open secret, while I’m at it, Broken Glass, one day she literally forced me to leave off squirming about on top of her, because she was determined not to miss the last episode of Santa Barbara, well then my engine just cut straight out, no life left in it, batteries flat, nothing working, I mean nothing at all, I was impotent, just watching my tool losing altitude and turning into a poor little flag at halfmast, then finally a tiny little thing no bigger than a premature baby’s, by which I mean to say I was seriously disconcerted, discombobulated, disoriented, and derailed, I swear to you, I got dressed in a flash, I was yelling my head off, shouting shit!

How could I ever forget the man who’d been turned out of the family home like a mad dog, I got a good laugh out of him a couple of months back, a pathetic guy who now goes round wearing Pampers diapers, like a newborn baby, far be it from me to laugh at his condition but that’s the sad truth and I hadn’t asked him for anything, all I did was look him in the eye and he said, like it was a declaration of war, “What you looking at me for Broken Glass, you want my photo, or something, leave me alone, go and look at those others down there, chatting in the corner,” I kept my cool, kept my serenity, there’s no point answering back with nohopers like him, but I did just say “hey man, I’m just looking at you like I look at anyone,” “yeah, but you’re looking at me strange, you don’t go round looking at people like that,” and I said, still keeping calm and cool, “how d’you know I’m looking at you if you’re not looking at me” and that seemed to really fix him, he was caught in his own trap there, because he said something like “not gonna speak, not gonna tell you nothing about my life, my life’s not up for auction,” and from then on I knew he was sunk, I wasn’t going to listen to that, there are people like that, there’s something Broken Glass | 23 they want to spit out, so they get to teasing you, pushing you about so they can convince themselves they had no choice but to talk, I’ve been analyzing customer psychology at Credit Gone West for years now, I’ve seen that kind of behavior before, “I’m not asking you to talk, brother, you don’t know me, you should ask around, the name’s Broken Glass, no one ever saw me ask a man for the user’s manual to his life, or to sell me his life at auction” and he wound up by saying “Broken Glass, life is so complicated, it all began the day I came home at five in the morning, I swear, and that day I noticed the lock had been changed, because I couldn’t get the key in, so I couldn’t get into my own house, which I’d rented myself, even found it myself, put down the deposit, I swear on the life of my mother and my father and my six children, I stumped up twelve months of rent including this one before I moved in a single fork, and I’ll tell you this I was the only one with a job, I’m not even going to talk about my wife now, or I’ll get mad before I’m started, she’s not a wife, she’s just a pot of faded flowers, a tree that bears no fruit, she’s not a woman, I tell you, she’s just a whole sack of problems, and there she was, living as easy as a potato from Bobo Dioulasso, easy as a capitalist, just sat there waiting for me to bring home the readies, there she was hanging about all day long, chatting from morning till night with divorced old bags and widows from Trois-Cents, old witches wrapped in stinking pagnes, evil bitches who whiten their skin, shrews who straighten their hair to look like whites, while the whites braid theirs to look like the black women, you see my problem, Broken Glass, there was my wife, hanging out with all these tarts who make out they’re going to church when in fact they’re off to meet their shitty little lovers, I’m telling you, the amount of casual fornication in the churches down there, they don’t even respect the house of God, I don’t know where God’s got to anyway, He’s 24 | Alain Mabanckou not in those churches, I tell you, those shrews and viragoes are convinced if God does exist, he forgives everything, whatever the sin, and whoever it is has done some idiot thing forbidden by the Jerusalem Bible, I tell you there’s some serious fornicating going on in our local churches, no better place for an orgy, some group sex, no better place than the so-called houses of God that sprout up everywhere, everyone knows, even the government people, some of whom actually finance these holy sex dens, but they’re not real churches, they’re run by religious nuts with shaved heads who exploit, pervert, rewrite, dishonor, seize hold of, abuse and profane the Jerusalem Bible and organize real-life orgies with the faithful, men and women, yes, not to mention the homos, the pedophiles, the zoophiles, and the lesbians, all going at it between prayers, between two Hail Marys, they do it when they go on pilgrimage too, to the high peaks of Loango, Ndjili, and Diosso, when they’re meant to be meditating, away from us sinners here below, we of little faith, we philistines, we lost sheep, Pharisees, you’re kidding, they go there for casual fornication, and what I say, loud and clear, is “Come down Moses” they’ve gone mad, doing this stuff on a pilgrimage to the three mountains, and my wife got caught up in all this shit with their guru, she just worships him to death, I tell you this guru, he’s been spawning children all over the place, with young girls who can’t even change their own tampon when the Red Sea tide comes sweeping in, I tell you this guru guy, he’s got money, lots of it, he could keep this district fed through a whole century of American embargo, it comes from you, this money, and it comes from me, and it comes from every single person in this country, I tell you he’s superrich, he’s a charlatan, he knows all the high-up guys in the administration, he’s got some photo of himself with the prime minister, and one with the President and General of the Armies, with the colonels in our army, and it Broken Glass | 25 seems he’s also the one who provides half the animals distributed to the poor at the festival of the goat, he has his own TV program every Sunday, looking all serious, talking like a black American preacher, and when he speaks on TV he threatens wrongdoers, tells them they’re bound for hellfire and the Last Judgment and the rest, that’s how he recruits his followers, that’s how he rakes in these massive sums of money, there’s a telephone number goes up on the screen while he’s talking and he has children sitting round him, dressed in white and singing songs of praise to him instead of to the Lord, and people compete to give more than the next guy because they think the more you give this crook, the closer you get to the gates of paradise, but I don’t like the way he looks, this guy, he looks like a statue of a fat, mean little Buddha, vicious even, how can you oppose a crook like him, when the army’s supplying him with soldiers for his personal security, eh, even if you want to see him you have to make an appointment weeks in advance, and his secretaries won’t let just anyone near him, so you see it’s not a simple tale of God the Father, it’s business, pure and simple, let’s speak plainly here, it’s a successful business and another thing, this guy has a whole harem up in the mountains of Loango, Ndjili, and Diosso, and it’s one big sex spree up there, everyone’s at it, and so my wife abandoned the marital home for a week, and went off up into the mountains, not even sacred mountains, they weren’t, though to her they were “mountains of the soul” the Pampers guy seemed to be struggling for words that day, but all at once he got into his stride and went on with his story, without even checking I was listening: “so you see, Broken Glass, my wife has the nerve to say I’m not allowed out, when I’m telling you, she had no right to tell me what to do, I paid all the bills, but 26 | Alain Mabanckou she made all the rules, who ever heard of a thing like that, in this crumbling world, eh, no one, that’s who, she thinks she can stop me from spoiling myself a little from time to time, as a man has a right to, with the hot little numbers down in the Rex District, you know what I mean, what was I supposed to do with myself while the guru was giving my wife a going over in the high mountains of Loango, Ndjili, and Diosso, eh, what was I supposed to do, fold my arms and watch from the sidelines, reading my Jerusalem Bible, eh, keep the house nice, eh, make her meals, eh, make me a cuckold, okay, but a posthumous cuckold please, make me a cuckold, but not with the connivance of the church brigade, not with the connivance of people who are meant to be showing us the way to the gates of paradise, you know some days, I wonder if some of my kids, all except the girl who looks like me, aren’t the guru’s kids, anyway, what am I supposed to do with myself, eh, it’s true I love those hot little things down around the Rex District, yeah, I love the taste of young girl, especially from down there, real belles du seigneur, they are, they know how to handle the Ding-an-sich, they’re born with it, you’ll never know fear and trembling like that in the marital bed, they’re amazing, Broken Glass, they’re little volcanoes, they promise you the earth and then they give it to you, all gift-wrapped, while the women back home are just one big disappointment, those hot little numbers from the Rex District, wow are they hot, they’re like rubber, like elastic, it’s sharp, it’s sweet, it’s frenzied, they whisper in your ear, they’re with your erection every fraction of the way, they know just where to touch you to wake the slumbering alternator, they know how to keep you from stalling at the roundabout, how to get your turbine turning, slip through the gears, accelerate, you feel happy, like you got your whole life before you, and you know how it is, Broken Glass, it was my Broken Glass | 27 money, I had a right to spend it as I wanted, I reckon, why’d she go breaking my balls like that, eh, I’ll tell you something, she was no good at it anyway, my wife, if she had been I’d have stayed at home like the other assholes in the district, but she just lay there, my wife did, staring up at the roof, got no choice but to pick my nails and think about the slender little bodies of the Rex girls, she could at least have tried to fake a bit of pleasure, while I was pumping away on top of her like some mediocre cyclist in the Tour de Trois-Cents, I’ll tell you an open secret, while I’m at it, Broken Glass, one day she literally forced me to leave off squirming about on top of her, because she was determined not to miss the last episode of Santa Barbara, well then my engine just cut straight out, no life left in it, batteries flat, nothing working, I mean nothing at all, I was impotent, just watching my tool losing altitude and turning into a poor little flag at halfmast, then finally a tiny little thing no bigger than a premature baby’s, by which I mean to say I was seriously disconcerted, discombobulated, disoriented, and derailed, I swear to you, I got dressed in a flash, I was yelling my head off, shouting shit!

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