This is a story of a girl named Francesca Domenico who travels from London to Milan to spend some time with her father. She begins to enjoy the luxury and comfort of her father's home, only to discover some strange happenings within the beautiful walls of the house.
Due to her inquisitive nature, she starts searching for answers. The answers she finds lead her to more questions, which it turn gets her into trouble trying to figure out the truth. What will become of her?
Girl In A Golden Cage is an interesting book full of twists and unexpected turns that captivates you completely. The characters all possess their own unique qualities, this is what makes the book stand out.
This story is suspense filled, combined with a beautiful combination of humour and mystery. I really enjoyed it and I look forward to reading the other books in the series.
From the Author
Girl In A Golden Cage is a standalone story in the Gold Gift Series. The
main themes are magical realism, mystery and romance, but the main
character's lifelong struggle with migraine is central to the story.
Magical Realism and migraine may not be obvious partners to some, but they
seem a natural fit to me. Migraine has been muscling in on my life since I
was old enough to toddle, so why wouldn't it show up as a principle player
in my latest novel? Both my mother and husband have
had lifelong battles with migraine. I've only been a bystander, but the
condition is so familiar that it had to have its own story.
My main character, Francesca, hears screaming in her father's hallway.
Screaming so terrible, she's sure that someone is being murdered, but she
can't get up to investigate. She's nine hours into a migraine that began
with aura symptoms, and matures into the kind of pain that should only be
reserved for the dentist chair with no anaesthetic.
As a child, I viewed migraines as a quasi-bogeyman. They scared me.
Completely unseen, they had the power to reduce the strongest pillar of my
life, my mum, into a quivering wreck. Driving, she might pull off the road
with an emergency-stop-suddenness and lay her head on the wheel saying, 'I
can't see.' It was the dazzling symptoms that caught my imagination early
on. Where had her sight gone to? Was she seeing something else?
In the novel, Francesca is staying with her father in Milan, and it's here
that she sees her dazzling symptoms begin to morph. This enables her to
witness something she wishes she hadn't, involving her father, but can she
rely on her own testimony when her symptoms are so out of control?
For my husband, who seldom has weeks without migraines, strain in its many
forms often tips the balance. He tries to negotiate life avoiding invisible
stress-mines that could trigger the next blast, but of course, that's
Secrets are always potions of stress; they make the mind swirl. I wanted to
show how Francesca's determination to seek the truth is complicated by her
symptoms, and how hard it is to stay on track when tension makes tipping
over the edge that much more likely.
I've worked for years in the art world and that's why I couldn't help
bringing an aspect of that into the story too. I came across an Anthony
Gormley sculpture, Feeling Material IX, many years ago. The minute I saw
it, it seemed to me a perfect piece of migraine art. Made only with wire,
it's form is so simple and yet the outer chaos seems to represent what's
going on inside the figure's head. When I was beginning to draft ideas for
the book, I knew that this statue had to be a central symbol.
Francesca is an artist. She has the kind of gift with a pencil that most of
us can only wonder about. I wanted her to be creative: to have a mind that
might be malleable enough to show her a place that teeters on the brink of
possibility. The idea that there could be a way to slip the grip of
migraine seemed a seductive plot line.
Fiction is one of the few ways others can experience someone else's
perspective. I haven't had to endure the frightful pain of migraine, but
I've been a close observer of the condition for so long that I feel I'm
equipped to draw its likeness, and as all writers do, take a few creative
liberties with the subject matter.