Rapunzel Untangled
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Praise for
Rapunzel Untangled
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair, so that I may climb the golden stair.” Forget the ancient nursery rhyme your mother read to you! This Rapunzel is a twenty-first century damsel, complete with computers, Facebook, and Skype. Locked in a tower by a wacky mother who insists Rapunzel will die if she comes in contact with others, this modern day Rapunzel lives a sleepy, boring, little life . . . until she friends Fane on Facebook and the truth is unraveled as he shows her the world outside the tower. Rapunzel Untangled is the fun, exciting, and sometimes frightening adventure of 17-year-old Rapunzel as the sleeping beauty awakens and discovers the truth about her life.
—SHERRY GAMMON, author of Unlovable
A fun, quirky romance taking an old fairy tale and setting it in the modern world with a fabulously creepy house and swoon-worthy love interest. A very cool twist on a favorite fairy tale, set in the modern world, and combining an interesting mix of original story and fun new ideas. Rapunzel is an incredibly unique love story that kept me second-guessing until the very end.
—JOLENE PERRY, author of Insight
Cindy takes one of my favorite fairy tales and reimagines it in the best possible way. Rapunzel Untangled is filled with romance, villains, heroes, magic, and Facebook. Loved it!
—KAREY WHITE, author of For What It’s Worth
This book had me from the beginning! I couldn’t put it down. . . . It turns out that Rapunzel doesn’t just sit in her tower all day. She learns about life in her own interesting way, using modern tools like Facebook to educate herself. She takes risks. She’s not just some airhead waiting to be saved. Rapunzel is delightful, Fane is absolutely hilarious, and the story will keep you guessing until the end.
—SHANNEN CRANE CAMP, author of The Breakup Artist
What I thought was going to be a sweet and innocent fairy tale turned out to be a “tangled” web spun with lies and deceit. Cindy C Bennett’s Rapunzel Untangled is a new kind of paranormal novel fraught with intrigue, danger, and believable romance. Every reader who loves original YA will be absorbed by this compelling read.
—RACHEL MCCLELLAN, author of the Fractured Light series
Take everything you think you know about Rapunzel and throw it out the turret window! Cindy C Bennett brilliantly modernizes the classic tale of the girl with golden locks. Not just another fairy tale, Rapunzel Untangled is a riveting, edge-of-your-seat, contemporary romantic thriller. Bennett captivates your senses and holds onto them from start to finish. This is a definitely a book that belongs in your personal library.
—STEPHANIE CONNELLEY WORLTON, author of Hope’s Journey
Rapunzel Untangled is everything you’d want from a modern fairy tale retelling: smart, funny, romantic, and true to the spirit of the original story. Ms. Bennett has created a strong heroine that you’ll fall in love with right from the first page, and her dashing hero is absolutely charming. The plot is intriguing, suspenseful, and sometimes dark, but interspersed with humor and heartwarming moments that make this a great read for anyone who loves a good fairy tale. You won’t want to stop reading until you reach the last paragraph—and then you’ll slow down, because you won’t want the story to end.
—HEATHER FROST, author of the Seers trilogy
© 2013 Cindy C Bennett
All rights reserved.
The views expressed within this work are the sole responsibility of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Cedar Fort, Inc., or any other entity. This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever, whether by graphic, visual, electronic, film, microfilm, tape recording, or any other means, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles.
ISBN 13: 978-1-4621-0362-1
Published by Sweetwater Books, an imprint of Cedar Fort, Inc., 2373 W. 700 S., Springville, UT 84663
Distributed by Cedar Fort, Inc. www.cedarfort.com
Library of Congress Control Number: 2012953785
Cover design by Angela D. Olsen
Cover design © 2013 by Lyle Mortimer
Typeset and edited by Melissa J. Caldwell
Printed in the United States of America
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To my dear friends and critique partners known as the Wigz (you know who you are Sherry, Cami, and Jeff). Without you, my writing wouldn’t be anything more than a fun hobby.
And to all of my fellow romantics in the world who share my fantasy of—and hope for—happily ever after, whatever that might be.
Table of Contents
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Other Books by Shannon Guymon
Author's Note
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Discussion Questions
Back Cover
Also by Cindy C. Bennett
Geek Girl
Author's Note
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As a young girl, I was endlessly fascinated by fairy tales. From Cinderella to Red Riding Hood to Snow White, I loved them all. I particularly loved Rapunzel. The Rapunzel story I knew was the traditional story where Rapunzel is given away by her father in exchange for some rampion (a type of plant) for his wife. When Rapunzel grows, a prince hears her singing and falls in love, eventually climbing up to be with her. The witch Gothel blinds him when she finds out, cuts off Rapunzel’s hair, and sends her to wander in the forest. The prince finds her when he hears her singing. She then cries over his blindness, her tears being the magic needed to restore his sight. That always fascinated me, the idea of true love being able to find one another no matter the odds (have I told you I’m a romantic?).
When Cedar Fort offered me the chance to write a Rapunzel retelling for Sweetwater Books, I jumped. As I sat down to write it, and began thinking about it, I realized it really is a dark story. No matter the version, the basic premise is always a young girl kidnapped or given away, locked in a tower by a crazy witch, and forced into solitude. I began writing my contemporary retelling and without warning my story became very dark. How could it be anything but, right?
Not to worry, it isn’t a complete downer. There’s humor and romance for my Rapunzel along with the insanity of being locked in a tower for nefarious purposes.
I’ve had a few early readers wonder why no one remarks on her strange name or the coincidental similarities between her life and the Rapunzel fairy tale. Simple, dear reader. The story of Rapun
zel doesn’t exist—at least in my Rapunzel’s world. The fairy tale has never been told. Rapunzel Untangled is a retelling of the original tale. So sit back (or lie in a bubble bath as I do when I’m about to dig into a new book) and let go of all of your preconceived notions of what the story of Rapunzel is, and take a new ride with me. I hope you enjoy. As always, happy reading!
Prologue
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The woman stiffened, captivated by the child on the opposite side of the apple-filled bin. Still an infant, arms and legs flailed as she happily batted at a stuffed giraffe hanging from her car seat’s handle. The seat was firmly attached to the front of the shopping cart. The woman felt a shift inside of her: here was the child, the one she’d waited for. She admitted that somewhere deep inside she doubted the prophecy and believed what others claimed, that Vedmak was nothing more than a false warlock who only wanted to avail himself of the vast wealth that could be provided by the woman. But now, here was the proof, here was the child that had been foreseen . . . no, promised her by Vedmak.
The baby glanced her way and she drew in a quick breath. The bright green eyes that looked at her reflected intelligence above a happy smile. But that wasn’t the thing that had drawn the woman in the first place, though it reinforced the prophecy. Instead it was the thick, long blonde hair that sprouted from the baby’s head. It was pulled up into a bow just above her forehead, with some strands trailing down on the sides, long enough to brush her ears.
She sidled a little closer on the pretense of examining the many red apples spread out before her. From this position, she could hear the conversation between the baby’s mother and another woman wearing a large, floppy hat who appeared to be an acquaintance.
“How old is the sweet baby now?” the acquaintance asked as she took the baby’s tiny hand into her own. The baby cooed and grasped the offered finger. The woman felt a burning in her chest at the audacity of the floppy-hatted woman so freely touching the magical child.
“She turned six months three days ago,” the mother said with a grin that bespoke of both love and exhaustion at the same time. “She’s getting to be such a busybody. She can already scoot, and I suspect it won’t be long before she’s crawling.”
The woman felt a tingle of alarm. Her time was shorter than she thought.
“Her hair is amazing,” the intrusive floppy hat said. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen hair so long on someone her age.”
“Yes,” the mother agreed. “She was born with a shock of blonde hair, and it doesn’t look like it plans to stop growing anytime soon. I’ll have to cut it before long if she’s going to be crawling around. I already have to tie it back for her to scoot.”
The woman’s tingle turned into a full-body screaming alarm. She’d have to act very, very soon or all would be lost. The chatting women turned her way, and she realized she’d made a small squeaking noise. She forced a calmness on her face and smiled politely at them. As if sensing something about her, they moved away as one. The woman grabbed a sack and threw a few apples in. She must appear composed if she were to pull this off. Excitement and dread mingled in her chest until she felt she might explode with it.
She walked to the front of the store and paid for her bag of apples, noticing the young mother a few lines over with her own basket of groceries. As the woman spied the items the young mother had—diapers, baby food, formula—along with the other groceries, she realized she was woefully underprepared. If only she’d listened to the warlock, believed fully in what he had said, she would not be in the predicament she now found herself in and could act immediately.
Outside, she slid into the driver’s seat of her car and slid down to make herself inconspicuous. A few minutes later, the young mother exited the store and walked to her own vehicle parked a short distance away. The woman watched as the mother first placed the baby in the car, securing her, before returning to her cart to place her purchased groceries into the trunk. The woman cursed herself once again—such a missed opportunity at this moment with the mother distracted.
She supposed she could force herself to be patient for this moment. She’d waited this long, hadn’t she? She would have to move quickly to prepare, but she could do it . . . she had to do it. The fate of her daughter rested upon her shoulders. Not just her shoulders, but also that of the young child with the magic hair. She put the car into gear and followed the unsuspecting pair from the parking lot.
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Rapunzel stood in the rounded alcove separating her rooms from the outside world. Her window served a single purpose—an escape for her in case of fire. Her mother was a bit . . . overprotective. She supposed it was with good reason.
She leaned out the open window and breathed in the fresh air, letting the early morning sun warm her cheeks. It was early enough that the workers hadn’t shown up so she felt safe in doing so. Her mother would be in soon with breakfast, at exactly six o’clock, the same as every morning for Rapunzel’s life. Her mother was the only clock Rapunzel would ever need.
She gazed across the expanse of green lawn dotted with several large trees of different varieties and surrounded by lush flower beds. From her window she could see the long, gabled line of the back of the house—places she had never been because of her diagnosis—and several of the outbuildings. Once in a while she glimpsed the gardeners going in and out of the greenhouse or shed, but she always ducked low so they wouldn’t see her watching.
A bluebird flew near and landed on the sill. She smiled. “Good morning, Angel,” she said softly so as not to startle her little friend. She slowly reached a hand out and opened it, palm up, sunflower seeds exposed. Angel flittered up with a chatter of alarm, but only a few feet before landing again. Rapunzel waited patiently. Angel hopped twice, moving closer to the treat. She stopped, chattering again as she looked around in short, quick head turns. Two more hops put her even closer. She continued the pattern while Rapunzel waited, barely breathing. Finally Angel hopped into her hand and grabbed a seed, then flew to a nearby tree branch, crunching her treat while she watched Rapunzel. This was usual. She’d been doing this for a few weeks now. Still, Rapunzel waited.
Angel returned, landing directly on Rapunzel’s palm. Rapunzel gasped lightly, but Angel stayed. This time she continued to eat the seeds, all the while tickling the palm of Rapunzel’s hand with her tiny pinprick feet. A grin spread across Rapunzel’s face. Angel had never come back before, let alone stayed to eat from her palm. Suddenly Angel lifted her head in alarm and flittered away, crying out as she did so.
“Rapunzel!” Her mother’s voice, full of recrimination startled her away from the window. She turned guiltily, scattering the seeds on the ground below.
“Mother, I—”
“Do you know what could happen to you?” her mother cried out, hurrying forward to push past Rapunzel, slamming the window closed. She swung toward Rapunzel and pulled her into a painful embrace. “You could be taken from me.”
“Taken from you?” Rapunzel questioned. That seemed an odd way to put it.
Her mother released her and stroked her hair, almost frantically. “You know what I mean. Your disease,” she whispered the word as she always did, afraid that speaking it aloud would somehow cause it to take fatal hold. “You must be always careful, Rapunzel. Always vigilant.”
Rapunzel nodded. She’d been opening the window for years, and nothing bad had happened. She wondered, not for the first time, whether her mother was wrong about the severity of her disease. She would never tell her mother she often opened the window, afraid she would take away her one small freedom. Not only that, she couldn’t be absolutely certain that her mother was wrong. She could have just been lucky so far.
“Yes, Mother,” she said. “I promise to be more careful.”
“Good,” her mother purred. “Now, let’s have our breakfast and then begin your lessons.”
They left the stone alcove, which was much lik
e a turret, through the open entry into the main room. A sitting area was to their right, with a kitchenette to the left. Rapunzel made use of the kitchen area as much as possible even though many of her meals were made downstairs by their cook, with the exception of her lunches, which she made herself most days. But she did have a fully stocked fridge and pantry from which she could bake if she really wanted to fix herself something to eat.
While they ate, Rapunzel examined her mother unobtrusively. They looked nothing alike. Her mother’s dark hair and eyes were the opposite of Rapunzel’s blonde hair and green eyes. Even their statures were different, Gothel being three inches taller than Rapunzel’s five-foot-five. Gothel was stout where Rapunzel was slender.
Once they finished their meal, with her mother sneaking constant looks at Rapunzel as if to see whether she was still all right, they moved into a second alcove slightly larger than the first, this one bearing no window. Within were her desk, computer, printer, and a large number of books. They were all books that had been required reading at some point in her schoolwork. Her mother felt that reading for pleasure was a sin. Still, Rapunzel had managed to find a way to do so without her mother’s knowledge.
They sat down together, and Rapunzel opened the book that gave her the outline of her schoolwork for the day. She placed her finger on the page and scrolled down as she read. “Today is pages 293 and 294 from the math book; read the history of the Hundred Years War; study European geography for the test next week; chapter twenty, ‘Plants and Their Structure,’ for biology—”
“Yes, yes,” her mother said, flipping her hand impatiently. Rapunzel knew that her mother hated this, the schoolwork. She remembered clearly the day when she was six and her mother had brought home her computer. She’d also brought home all of the homeschooling information she’d been able to get her hands on. She’d taught Rapunzel how to read but felt Rapunzel needed more. Her mother had tried to help her learn the computer but gave up quickly in frustration, leaving Rapunzel to figure it out on her own with the strict admonishment to use it for nothing other than schoolwork. And she had—until recently. “It seems you have it under control. Do you need my help?”