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Skeins of Gold: Rumpelstiltkin Retold

By Bargo, Holly, Ms.

Book Id: WPLBN0100002586
Format Type: PDF (eBook)
File Size: 3.74 MB.
Reproduction Date: 12/4/2017

Title:	Skeins of Gold: Rumpelstiltkin Retold
Author:	Bargo, Holly, Ms.
Volume:
Language:	English
Subject:	Fiction, Drama and Literature
Collections:	Fantasy, Authors Community, Most Popular Books in China
Historic Publication Date:	2017
Publisher:	Hen House Publishing

Member Page:	Karen Smith
Citation APA MLA Chicago Bargo, M. H. (2017). Skeins of Gold. Retrieved from http://www.self.gutenberg.org/

Description
This new version of the Rumpelstiltskin fairy tale addresses some dangling questions not answered in the original story and is told from the perspective of the miller's daughter.

Summary
Caught by her father's lie and a king's greed, the miller's daughter must accomplish an impossible: to spin straw into gold. An imp bargains for her rescue for his own ulterior motives, but can he be trusted? What's a young woman to do? This new version of the Rumpelstiltskin fairy tale addresses some dangling questions not answered in the original story and is told from the perspective of the miller's daughter.

Excerpt
It’s the lot of women to suffer the stupidity of men. I looked out the window of the grand carriage painted and gilded with the king’s family crest as it carried me from the hovel of my home to the castle where I somehow had to make good on my father’s nonsensical boast that I could spin straw into gold. Had my father not soaked his brain in cheap ale to bolster his courage, he would have realized that, if his boast were true, our family would not live in a hovel and dress in rags. The king, who looked at me with watery eyes gleaming with greed, should have figured out that little logical truth, too. He leaned across the seats, corset creaking as it struggled to contain the bulge of a belly swollen with too much fine, rich food and wine, and patted my knee in an overly familiar gesture that made my skin crawl. “You’re a pretty lass,” he complimented me and licked his already wet lips. Being a humble miller’s daughter—a peasant—I could hardly rebuff the king, but I did sidle away from his lecherous touch and protest, “Your majesty, you mustn’t. I’m not worthy.”