Golden Gown by Sarah E. Boucher

Elyse has lost everything; her parents, her family home, and the village where she is loved and respected. Still grieving, she arrives in a new town where she must prove her skills as a seamstress. Overnight, she creates a gown stunning enough to catch the princess’s eye and win the community’s approval. With every eligible maiden clamoring for her designs, Elyse must do everything in her power to appease them. No one can ever know that in the moments when she doubts her abilities, a mysterious stranger with a talent for tailoring and a penchant for damsels in distress comes to her aid. If anyone ever discovers the truth, her reputation will be ruined.

Golden Gown is a blending of the classic fairy tales Rumpelstiltskin and The Shoemaker and The Elves. The magic of pure love woven through the tale will touch the hearts of all of its readers.

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About the Author:

Sarah E. Boucher is a lover of fairy stories, romance, anything BBC and Marvel, and really, really cute shoes. On weekdays she wears respectable shoes and serves as Miss Boucher, the Queen of Kindergarten. On school holidays she writes stories about romance and adventure. And wears impractical super cute shoes.

Sarah is a graduate of Brigham Young University. She lives and works in northern Utah. Midnight Sisters is her second novel. Visit Sarah at SarahEBoucher.com or connect with her on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, Amazon, or Goodreads.

Golden Gown, Becoming Beauty, and Midnight Sisters are now available on Amazon. During the Blog Tour, Becoming Beauty and Midnight Sisters will be $.99 each on Kindle!

Meet Elyse Morley (aka the miller’s daughter):

The heroine of Golden Gown, Elyse Morely, is based primarily on my Grammy, Elsie Caraway. Secondarily, she’s based on all the Boucher and Caraway women. Like the miller’s daughter in Rumpelstiltskin, Elyse is patient and clever, but she is also talented and hardworking. Though she appears sweet and naïve, when she’s cornered, her temper emerges. And of course, Gilberto De la Vega is just annoying enough to trigger it.

Elyse has lived her whole life in a small town and has always been aware of her station. The women of the community, who see her has nothing more than the daughter of a laundress and a candle maker, have treated her with condescension for as long as she can remember. Though Elyse has taken it all in stride, she’s been waiting for a chance to shine her whole life. Watch her embrace her dreams of becoming a dressmaker:

I tugged on the cracked leather handle and the trunk screeched across the floor. Given the level of dust clinging to its exterior, it hadn’t been disturbed in quite some time.

“Right there will do, darling,” Auntie said, pointing to a spot beside her bed.

The trunk dropped into place before her. I wiped my palms on my apron, leaving twin patches of grey. Auntie plied a cloth to the top and sides, revealing tarnished bronze hinges and an elaborate monogram on the lid. I barely had time to make out the initials before she heaved it open.

“Is that my mother’s?” Somehow the words made it past the lump forming in my throat.

Aunt Lydia reached inside to pull forth a grey gown with a lace overlay and draped it over the side of the trunk. “She only wore them once or twice, so the fabric is still good.”

I knelt beside her, resting a hand on the trunk almost reverently. Lydia pulled forth dress after dress, beautifully fashioned in soft hues. “They’re terribly outmoded,” she muttered, her brows drawing together. She reached into the bottom of the trunk and drew out a gold brocade gown scattered with a flower pattern.  “No, it’s all wrong. Young women don’t wear such heavy fabrics these days, do they?”

I pulled the fabric forward until it fell in a glowing puddle in my lap, releasing the faintest of perfumes. Tears threatened at the back of my eyes.

Lydia’s hand settled over mine, as light as a bird. “I miss her too.”

Suddenly, tears were rolling down my cheeks as I thought of my mother. I swiped a hand over my damp cheeks. “If she’d have thought of it, she’d have made them over years ago.” I sucked in a shaky breath. “And sold them at a profit.”

Lydia let out a chuckle. She fished around in the trunk once more and a lavender-colored gown joined its companions. “See anything inspiring?”

I riffled through the fabrics, paying close attention to the weight and texture of each and imagining how light would play over the warp and weft. I piled the grey and lavender gowns into my arms. “You don’t think she’d mind, do you?”

“Of course not.” She began to refold the gowns and place them back in the trunk. “Once she chose a life with your father, Rachel never looked back.”

I hugged the lavender and grey gowns to my chest and thought of the woman who had once been a debutante. Would she approve of what I was making of my life?