Friday, April 24, 2026

INTERVIEW WITH CYNTHIA SALLY HAGGARD (Maiden Tomb)

 



Tell me a little bit about the main character of MAIDEN TOMB.

Justice is the seventh daughter, the one who possesses a quiet authority and power. She is sixteen years old, and believes herself to be forgettable. But that doesn’t prevent her from catching the eye of Lord Nobody, who soon proclaims his undying love for her.

Justice doesn’t know what to make of this. After all, she has spent most of her sixteen years locked in a tower-bedroom with her eleven sisters. What does she know of men? Nothing. 

It doesn’t help that Lord Nobody is twice her age and is traveling with his twelve-year-old son. 

Doesn’t he have a wife already?

But Justice wants to help her sisters escape from Father’s imprisonment. She will do anything to bring that about.


Do you believe in the paranormal, and if so, do you have an experience you can share?

I wouldn’t say that I’m a believer in the paranormal exactly, in the sense that paranormal phenomena don’t really impinge on my daily life. However, I do know that there are some things that are difficult to explain. 

One thing that stands out in my mind is about my mother. She was English and lived all of her life in England. She wasn’t a religious person, by which I mean that she didn’t care for organized religion, she never went to church, and she didn’t have a spiritual practice. However, she had this odd ability which, in another age, might have led people to call her a seer.

I remember once that my new husband and I planned to spend a month with her in England. But she didn’t want us to come. 

“Why not?” I asked my sister.

“I dunno,” my sister replied. “She keeps saying it’s going to be a bad visit.”

I rolled my eyes. “Tell her not to worry,” I said. And the conversation moved off into other channels.

But Mum was right. It was a bad visit. In fact, it was so bad, that I later wished we hadn’t come. Things were never the same after that.

But how did Mum know that? Up to that point we’d had a good relationship. And she wasn’t a reflective person. So I don’t think her belief that it was going to be a bad visit was based on any kind of self-awareness, as might have been true for other people.

No.

It seemed that she just had this feeling, this sense, that things weren’t going to be good.

How I wish I had listened to her!


What titles are you working on now that you can tell us about?

MAIDEN TOMB is Volume One of THE TWELVE CURSED MAIDENS series. So I’m going to talk about MAIDEN FORGOTTEN, which is Volume Two of TCM. 

MAIDEN FORGOTTEN is about the father in Twelve Dancing Princesses, the one who locks his daughters up in the Tower. Now what would happen if your father happened to be Genghis Khan?

It seems that he had at least five daughters.

And we know that he had four healthy sons. 

So why does he ask his daughter to rule northern China for him?

We do not know her name, but she has come down to us via her title Alakhai Bekhi, which can be translated as Princess Excellency. Alakhai Bekhi is not famous because she became lost in the blaze of glory and all the legends that surround Genghis Khan. She is the “Maiden Forgotten” of the title.

As a young woman, she ruled the Ongguds whose lands abutted the Great Wall of China. However, these people turned on her and would have murdered her had she not escaped.

Genghis Khan was furious, and wanted to murder the entire Onggud nation in revenge.

But you will have to read MAIDEN FORGOTTEN to see how his daughter handled his order.

Suffice it to say, she was a magnificent ruler in her own right and did so well that he made her the ruler of northern China, calling her The Princess who Runs the State.

But what did her brothers think about that?

And how did they behave once Genghis Khan was dead?


MAIDEN FORGOTTEN will drop on Amazon on 12 January 2027. 

Stay tuned for the cover reveal and other fun events to celebrate her publication!


Maiden Tomb
Twelve Cursed Maidens Series
Book One
Cynthia Sally Haggard

Genre: Fairytale Retelling, Fantasy
ASIN: ‎ B0DNWVFZ81
Publisher: ‎Cynthia Sally Haggard Press
Publication Date: ‎ February 4, 2025

Tagline: Would you marry a stranger to free your sisters from imprisonment?

Book Description: 

In this retelling of The Twelve Dancing Princesses, sixteen-year-old Justice wants to release her sisters from the maw of Father's imprisonment. But what can she do? The easiest way would be to find suitors for them.

However, that is not so easy, for Justice's elder sisters are strange. What with All-Gifted's madness, Protectress's hair writhing with snakes, Death-Bringer's grief (not to mention her strange name), Shining's too-overt sexuality, Maiden's tart tongue, Shadow's crippling shyness, no sensible man would want her sisters as wives. Which leaves Justice, the seventh daughter, the one who possesses a quiet authority.

Justice has already acquired an admirer in the shape of Lord Nobody, who proclaims his undying love for her. But what does he really want? And doesn't he have a wife already?

Amazon     BN     Author Website     Google     Books2Read

 

P r o l o g u e ~ The Twelve Mysterious Daughters

Playful speaks

 

In the past week or so since we’ve arrived, life has taken on a predictable rhythm. I spend the mornings entertaining the ladies of the castle, with the lyre, my singing, playing knucklebones, and listening to their gossip. Truth to tell, nothing they say is particularly interesting as high-born ladies spend their time inside. When they are not diverting themselves with such pastimes as I provide, they are spinning, weaving, running the household, and caring for their children. They talk incessantly about their children. They know little of the outside world.

I escape after the midday meal, taking advantage of the ladies’ habit of resting as the sun’s chariot crests at the highest point of the day. While they sleep, I head out into the scorching countryside looking for Father.

We sit together in the shade, while Father does some task, usually repairing something, while I tell him everything I’ve learned the evening before. It is not that hard. Because I am small, and people are now familiar with my face, no one pays me any mind as I take my seat at the bench that runs along the side of the huge table where all the working folk of the castle eat their meals.

Father has told me never to be inquisitive, but I am dying to know more about the twelve mysterious ladies locked up in the castle tower, the ones people whisper about behind their hands when they think no-one is noticing.

As the light of the sun drains from the sky, as the king’s men sink lower onto wooden benches eating dish after dish, quail, pheasant, peacock, duck, eggs, bread, olive oil, wine, and olives, the noise of seven hundred men sharing jokes, laughing, and swilling wine reverberates around the hall.

Finally, I can take it no more."Is it true what they say about the King’s daughters?"

The grizzled stranger on the bench next to me wipes the grease off his mouth with the back of a hand and spits out an olive pit.

"Where’ve you popped up from? You shouldn’t be here. You’re only a young lad."

I am used to these remarks. After I left home I took a ship that was blown off course, taking me west to the land of the Italoi. I had to beg for money in the streets and in the taverns and it was not long before I heard news of Father, who was sailing to the west of this land.

And so I made my way across steep mountains before coming down to a lush plain. Playing my lyre to entertain strangers I followed their directions to the sea, to a wide bay within sight of a simmering, high, conical-shaped mountain.

And there, in a tavern, I met Father.

Now we are traveling home together. But Father is not here on the bench beside me, as he should be, but outside at a nearby farm pretending to be a stable hand.

This is one of Father’s clever strategies. He is a master at extracting information. He calls his strategy "divide and conquer" and it means that I have to use my lyre to find a berth for the night in some local chieftain’s house. This is not usually difficult, especially if there are ladies around because for some reason they always want to pet me.

Meanwhile, Father finds work on the outside as a shepherd, farmhand, or stable boy. By concealing his origins and pretending to be dumb, drunk, or both, Father is able to overhear a great many things. We have a plan to meet every day at noon, I escaping the blandishments of the ladies to visit the local farm for milk, cheese, eggs where I could happen upon the new stable boy, farmhand, or shepherd.

The only fly in the ointment is my age. I am only twelve years old and to my great annoyance, I look it. So Father made me memorize some phrases to offer when this issue arises.

"Father is here with me, but is suffering with an ache to his belly."

One sentence is usually enough for most people. Father has instructed me never to offer explanations that are not asked for as it only makes people more curious.

But the fellow is staring at me, waiting for more.

I turn my eyes down. "Father told me to eat supper and then berth with him in the stable yard."

"He’s the new stable hand, is he?"

I nod.

"Much good he’ll be with a bellyache."

I look up. "Do you have a remedy for that good sir?"

Father always stresses the importance of asking for advice when a conversation turns sour, as it flatters the vanity.

The fellow hawks and spits, rising from his seat. "You’ll have to go to the kitchens for that, son." He ambles off.

I return to my meal, hoping the others will forget about me and the conversation I’ve just had. Fortunately, it is that time of the meal when men turn tipsy. Pretty soon they are laughing, singing, and telling dirty jokes. One song goes like this:

 "There once was a king with twelve daughters—"

                        —"Twelve bee-yoo-tiful daughters," sing the others in an out-of-tune chorus.

"But he refused to marry them off—"

                        —"Twelve bee-yoo-tiful daughters!"

"And why did he refuse to marry them off?"

                        —"Twelve bee-yoo-tiful daughters!

"Because they would make unsuitable wives—"

                        —"Twelve bee-yoo-tiful daughters!"

"The eldest is mad.

The second is bad.

The third is sad.

The fourth too bold.

The fifth too shrill.

The sixth too shy.

The seventh too just.

While the eighth loves her father too much—Ha! Ha!

The eighth loves her father too much!

The ninth is a boy.

The tenth a mermaid.

The eleventh a goddess.

While the twelfth has only five years, five years,

The twelfth daughter has only five years."

"Do not touch!" yells someone to guffawing laughter.

The men pick up their song again:

"But the one you need to watch for is number four, number four,

The one you need to watch for is number four.

For the fourth daughter is a very naughty girl,

With large bold eyes and a nearly naked form—"

This goes on for some time. The fourth daughter seems to fascinate the men. I chew thoughtfully. Somehow, I must find a way of meeting her.

I turn to another man. "Is it true he locked all twelve of his daughters up in a high tower?"

The man nods.

"Why are they going on about the fourth daughter? I thought it was the eldest who dishonored the family name—"

"Keep your voice down," hisses the fellow. He looks around and then stares back at me from under bushy brows. "Your information is quite good, boy. Most of what you say is true."

"Which part is false?"

The fellow rises to his feet. "If you’ll take my advice, you’ll keep your mouth shut. Folk pay with their lives by asking too many questions." He glances around and draws his forefinger across his throat.

"But—" I gesture to the men singing lustily.

"They’re drunk."

"But—" I say again. But the man vanishes into the press of sweaty male bodies.

Outside, it is a lovely evening with a couple more hours to run before the sun dips below the trees. The castle tower stands up like a finger, a beckoning, a warning, that people can see for miles around. If their eyesight is good, they will see a window set high in the tower, just underneath the tiled roof. On a fine day, the window unlatched, the wind carries the sound of voices, the high sound of girls’ voices gossiping, chattering, giggling. Now, on this late summer evening, someone closes that high window shut. I catch a glimpse of a heart-shaped face with deep-set dark-grey eyes, and light-brown hair drawn back into a braid. Which daughter could she be? Not number four, for she is dressed modestly in a light woolen robe dyed a soft grey to match her eyes.

I lift my head to the moon, a thin fingernail of a crescent. A shiver runs up my spine. Something is going to happen within the month, I can feel it. This place hums with suppressed tensions.

Father will be so interested when I see him tomorrow.

 


About the Author:

Cynthia Sally Haggard was born and reared in Surrey, England.

About 40 years ago, she surfaced in the United States, inhabiting the Mid-Atlantic region as she wound her way through four careers: violinist, cognitive scientist, medical writer, and novelist.

Her first novel, Thwarted Queen, a saga set in 1400s England with a Game of Thrones vibe, won the 2021 Gold Medal IPPY Award for Audiobook. Her second novel, Farewell My Life, a dark historical about a hidden murderer, won the 2021 Independent Press Award for Women’s Fiction and was a 2019 Distinguished Favorite for the New York City Big Book Award. (Farewell is now a set of four novellas that make up the Grace Miller series.)

Maiden Tomb, the first of four projected novellas that will form the Twelve Cursed Maidens series, was a 2026 Distinguished Favorite for the Independent Press Award. Cynthia graduated with an MFA in Creative Writing from Lesley University, Cambridge MA, in June 2015.

When she’s not annoying everyone by insisting her fictional characters are more real than they are, Cynthia likes to go for long walks, knit something glamorous, cook in her wonderful kitchen, and play the piano.

You can visit her at: 













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