Author: Jenny Trout
Publisher: Entangled Teen
Pub. Date: February 4, 2014
Never was there a tale of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo…But true love never dies. Though they’re parted by the veil between the world of mortals and the land of the dead, Romeo believes he can restore Juliet to life, but he’ll have to travel to the underworld with a thoroughly infuriating guide.
Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, may not have inherited his father’s crown, but the murdered king left his son a much more important responsibility—a portal to the Afterjord, where the souls of the dead reside. When the determined Romeo asks for help traversing the treacherous Afterjord, Hamlet sees an opportunity for adventure, and the chance to avenge his father’s death.
In an underworld filled with leviathan monsters, ghoulish shades, fire giants and fierce Valkyrie warriors, Hamlet and Romeo must battle their way through jealousy, despair, and their darkest fears to rescue the fair damsel. Yet finding Juliet is only the beginning, and the Afterjord doesn’t surrender souls without a price…
"Juliet." Romeo’s heart could have stopped beating, and he would not have cared. Here she was, at last. The year of suffering that had felt like an eternity melted away. And yet, she did not open her eyes.
"It's me," he tried again. "Juliet, it's me. Your Romeo."
She did not stir.
"My love, my wife," he whispered. He pulled himself up to brush his lips across her cheek, repeating the words he'd said to her as she lay upon her bier. "Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty."
Her eyelids fluttered.
"Juliet?" His arms ached from holding himself up. He looked down, and wished he hadn't. The blue-gray void stretched endlessly below, rows upon rows of the floating soul islands he could fall into.
He again called upon strength he did not really have, kindled embers of hope that had grown cold, then flared again, only to be snuffed by this heartless place.
"Juliet, please," He whispered into her ear. His arms were limp as soggy bread. The wasted muscles of his shoulders quivered. "Juliet, please. You must wake. Please."