My Name is Rapunzel

My Name is Rapunzel ~ K.C. Hilton

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Rating 3.5 Stars

Blurb

My tale has been told again and again, and I’ve heard each one. Except for my hair, I barely recognize the pitiful renditions. Muddled versions, crafted to entertain laughing children…but the children wouldn’t have laughed if they’d known the real story. It wasn’t their fault. They didn’t know the truth. Nobody did.

My name is Rapunzel. I will tell you my story. I will tell you the truth.

Review

so i have been waiting to get my hands on this book for AGES so i was really excited when i got asked to review a copy. while i did enjoy this book it was not quite what i was expecting going into it and was up against some pretty stiff competition as a Rapunzel retelling as this story has been retold quite a few times in the past year or so. this story is a retelling in only the loosest of terms which if unlike me you had read the blurb may not surprise you all that much for the most part the tale is almost unrecognisable with the story more based around the origin of the tale and what Rapunzel’s life had really been like. the inclusion of the dragon which was missing from the original tale (or at least the versions I have read) did add an element of interest and i did enjoy all the unknown parts of Rapunzel’s life and how the story all came together.
however i found that the story did sometimes get repetitive with scenes being repeated without any extra information actually being added and personally i did find the “big twist” oddly predictable. this however did not overly detract from what was in truth an enjoyable version of Rapunzel. it may not be my favorite version of the tale but still one that i am sure i will come back too.

Teaser

Just go, Henry. Save yourself. I tried to shout, but my mouth wouldn’t give way to sound. I was paralyzed. Was it with fear, or something else? The cackling witch at the tree line convinced me it was her doing.

I heard Henry continue to shout for me to flee, but I didn’t respond. I didn’t move. I didn’t run. I was frozen like a lifeless statue in a cold museum. With only the movement of my eyes, I pleaded with him to help me. A tear escaped one of my eyes then rolled down my cheek. That single tear managed to do what my heart and body could not. Escape.

Fear, like unseen hands, gripped my lungs and tried to crush them slowly. My stomach churned and threatened to empty. Would we die here?

The gentle chill of night had turned into a mid-winter’s frost. Tiny bumps rose on my arms and the small hairs prickled to attention. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words remained trapped in my throat.

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