Bonavere Howl

Bonavere Howl

by Caitlin Galway
Bonavere Howl

Bonavere Howl

by Caitlin Galway

eBook

$10.49  $10.99 Save 5% Current price is $10.49, Original price is $10.99. You Save 5%.

Available on Compatible NOOK Devices and the free NOOK Apps.
WANT A NOOK?  Explore Now

Related collections and offers

LEND ME® See Details

Overview

It is 1955, and the three Fayette sisters have lived their whole lives in the enchanting French Quarter of New Orleans. Though neglected by their parents, they share a close bond with one another—from afternoons in their small, shared bedroom, to trying to speak with ghosts beneath the sweeping trees in their garden. When the middle sister Constance disappears, the family believes she has run away, as she has done before; it is only the youngest—fourteen-year-old Bonavere (known as Bonnie)—who suspects there is more to it. Met only with grief from her family and resistance from the police, Bonnie embarks on a journey to bring her sister home, venturing through fabled Red Honey Swamp, and the city's vibrant and brutal history. Unravelling the layers of her sister's secret life, Bonnie discovers a pattern of girls found half-mad in the Louisiana swampland, and a connection to the wealthy, notorious Lasalle family. To rescue her sister, she must confront the realities of true violence, and the very nature of insanity.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781771833554
Publisher: Guernica Editions Inc
Publication date: 05/01/2019
Series: Essential Prose
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: eBook
Pages: 136
File size: 2 MB

About the Author

Caitlin Galway is an author and freelance editor. Her fiction has been published in Riddle Fence, The Broken Social Scene Story Project, the Carter V. Cooper Short Fiction Anthology Series, and by CBC Books. She has won and been shortlisted for numerous contests, and has received multiple literary grants. She studied English Literature at Queen's University.

Read an Excerpt

We packed our grandmother's clothing back into the trunk in silence. Gingery doo-wop played on the radio from underneath the coat we had not bothered to pull off. The mid-sky sun flooded through the window and pressed hard against my cheek, flat and overcooked and ringed in white like a hard-boiled egg. I wrestled with the notion of reporting to our mother and father what had happened, that Connie had left the house when she was not allowed, but it was too daunting, the task of navigating through a barrage of stiff, swishing dresses, everyone so strangely elegant and spritzed in metallic floral clouds, only to be scolded by Mama in front of her guests, all of them cocktail-drunk and horrible by now. Fritzi seemed only marginally concerned, and she was my barometer. I ignored my uneasiness at the backdoor squeaking open, clapping shut. I let the feeling trickle in a thin stream from my chest to my stomach, like the sweat down the small of my back. As the evening crept on, I looked up to find Fritzi with her forehead low against her fingertips. She was standing in the one spot untouched by the marmalade light of our lamp, and the night collected over her like an overhanging shade. "I shouldn't have let her run off in a huff like that." "She'll be back soon, it's almost bedtime," I said. "She'll want to be home before Mama sees and throws a fit." I leaned against the windowsill beside Fritzi, and we stared down at the winding path leading to our house. The sounds of the party travelled out the open front door, between the fluted columns rounding the porch, and blew up to us with the garden's wild bergamot mint and the dawning nostalgia of dead tobacco. Fritzi rested her arm on the windowsill. Her cigarette was clipped absently between her fingers, and spilled its smoke into the air, weaving long, pale furls over the darkened yard. I looked at my sister, who would not lift her eyes from the empty path, almost taunting now in its bareness, where the light that once fell sylphic from the paper lanterns now lay cold beneath the old live oaks.

From the B&N Reads Blog

Customer Reviews