‘Swept from the splendours of Versailles to the horror of Revolutionary Paris, can three aristocratic sisters save themselves and find love in a world that has been turned upside down?‘
Blood Sisters was inspired by the inspiring yet tragic stories of several intrepid, courageous and amazing women who lived through the upheaval of the French Revolution, in particular the Princesse Joseph de Monaco, Emilie de Sainte-Amaranthe, Princesse Rosalie Lubomirska and Lucile Desmoulins. I’ve been fascinated by their stories since childhood and in the end decided to allow them to inspire the novel that eventually became Blood Sisters.
‘When the beautiful Comtesse de Saint-Valèry is dragged unwillingly from her Parisian home in the dead of night, her three young daughters are left to an uncertain fate at the hands of their father in a world that is teetering on the very edge of Revolution.
Cassandre, the eldest is a beautiful and heartless society beauty, trapped in an unhappy marriage and part of the dazzling court of Versailles. Lucrèce, her twin, is married to a man she adores but he pushes her away for another woman. Meanwhile, Adélaïde, the youngest, rebels against the destiny that her position in society appears to have doomed her to.
As the horror, turmoil and excitement of the French Revolution unfolds around them, the three very different sisters struggle to survive the bloodshed, find love and discover their true selves…’
‘Melanie Clegg draws readers into her world, and holds them fast. Her
storytelling left me longing for more.’ — Susan Higginbotham, author of The Stolen Crown and The Queen of Last Hopes.
‘A gripping tale of the French Revolution‘ – Catherine Delors, author of Mistress of the Revolution and For The King
‘They came for me while I was still asleep. I always knew that one day my luck would run out. But I’d hoped it would be when I was wide awake and the very picture of innocence in my prettiest white silk gown, armed with clever little lies and excuses which would fall artlessly from my rouged lips. Instead, I was dressed only in a thin cotton chemise, and was momentarily bewildered when the men burst into my bedroom in the middle of the night and shouted at me to wake up. My eyes blinked in the fierce amber light of the lanterns they held above me.
I knew, of course. I knew what they had come for and who had sent them.
Rolling from the lily-scented warmth of my bed, I stood before them, trembling with fear and clutching the embroidered pink silk counterpane to my breasts.
They knew why they were there too, and I flinched as their lustful eyes roamed freely over my body.
Usually such men would glance at me from the corners of their eyes and then look away, terrified of a horsewhipping if I chanced to notice. Now there was a contempt mixed in with the lust that made me take a step back from them.
‘You are to come with us, madame,’ said a tall pockmarked man that I had never seen before…’