Excerpts gothic fantasy Read an Excerpt From Innamorata by Ava Reid Once there was an island where the dead walked the earth, and seven noble houses ruled by the arcane secrets of necromancy. By Ava Reid | Published on February 24, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from Innamorata by Ava Reid, the first part of a dark gothic fantasy duology publishing with Del Rey on March 17. Once there was an island where the dead walked the earth, and seven noble houses ruled by the arcane secrets of necromancy.A conqueror’s blade brought them low, burning their libraries, killing their lords, and extinguishing their eldritch magic.But defiant against the new order stands the House of Teeth and its last living members: beautiful Marozia, the heiress to the House, and her cousin, the uncanny Lady Agnes.Though she has not spoken a word in seven years, Agnes is the true carrier of the House’s legacy. And she has her orders. She must recapture the secrets of death magic and avenge her family’s fallen honor. She must arrange the betrothal of her beloved cousin Marozia to Liuprand, heir to the conqueror’s throne, for access to the forbidden library in his grotesquely grand castle.Revenge burns in Agnes’s heart but so do stranger passions—and it is Liuprand, the golden prince, who speaks to her soul. This passion is as treasonous as it is powerful, poisoning the kingdom’s roots and threatening to tear the already shattered realm in two.For Agnes’s final order is the gravest: She must not fall in love. There was very little left of Adele-Blanche’s body now. None of what remained was the inheritance of any great house, yet by Article III of the Covenant, it all must be obliterated immediately. The Covenant also restricted the methods of expunging it: There could not be a pyre; vultures could not be permitted to feast upon it; it could not be sent out to sea; and, of course, it could not be buried. So here at last was the paramount duty of the Most Esteemed Surgeon. Both Swallow and Wrestbone helped the Surgeon down from his dais and allowed him to grip their arms for balance as he maneuvered toward the very last remains of their departed mistress. The Most Esteemed Surgeon wore heavy wooden clogs. Holding on to Swallow and Wrestbone, he stomped Adele-Blanche’s entrails into the mud. Thudding, squelching, like he was mashing grapes for wine, until the red matter of her grandmother was reduced to invisible bits and mixed with the dirt so as to be completely, utterly irretriev­able. The rain spent itself, and the clouds broke apart to show strips of hoary light. Marozia nudged Agnes meaningfully, and Agnes stepped down from the pew onto the sodden earth that infected her flesh with goosebumps. She raised a hand to help her cousin descend, and Marozia followed her down primly, nose wrinkling as her feet met the same cold ground. “Come on, come on,” Marozia urged. “He’s going to leave.” Marozia never rushed. This manner of locomotion did not befit a noble lady. But the impatience in her cousin’s voice had Agnes stum­bling forward, half tripping over her muddy skirts, desperately trying to blaze a trail for Marozia, newly anointed Mistress of Teeth. It would not do for Marozia to be observed faltering and fumbling. Particularly by Thrasamund, Master of Eyes, who, congruous to his title, had the perception of a carrion bird. He steepled his hands over his stomach and watched Agnes’s awkward efforts. Fortunately, the gray mass of guards did not move. Each stood as straight as an upright sword and, clad as they were in armor and mail, looked more metal than man. Agnes bent down to brush some of the mud from Marozia’s skirt, taking this moment to catch her breath. From inside the mass of sol­diers came a stately voice: “Part.” No sooner had the command left the mouth of their master than the guards each took one step to the side, forming a gap through which the prince was at last revealed. Agnes stood quickly, not wanting to be perceived in such a cowed position, but when she turned her eyes toward the prince, she had the sensation of being cowed twice over, in fact almost blinded. It was more so the contrast between the prince’s emanation and the dismal surroundings than anything innate to His Highness, though it could not be denied that he was an inordinately and surpassingly beautiful man. Gold was his hair, but a dark gold, like sunken treasure. His face appeared carved, with the adoring, if not slightly lascivious, ministrations of a master sculptor, one who took great care in shaping its aquiline nose and august brow, who caressed the statue’s high, prominent cheekbones as though it were a lover. He wore a doublet of midnight blue, banded with opulent braids of gold, a cape held to his shoulders with gilded epaulets. The prince trod the path created for him by the Dolorous Guard and stopped be­fore Agnes and Marozia. With this proximity, Agnes could properly appreciate his stature. He was of a greater height even than Thrasa­mund, but he had none of the latter’s adipose indulgence. His broad figure was led by bone and muscle rather than by fat and flesh. And with the grace that Thrasamund had ascribed to him earlier, he smiled down at his subjects. “My good ladies,” he said. “I did not have the occasion to meet your grandmother, but I grieve the loss of such a distinguished woman.” “Thank you, Your Highness,” Marozia said. “I will endeavor to fill her slippers.” “It is a great honor to meet the new Mistress of Teeth so early in her incumbency.” He turned and looked Agnes directly in the face. “And who else do I have the pleasure of meeting today?” He was Liuprand, eldest and only son of Nicephorus the Slug­gard, heir to the throne of Drepane, already well loved by his sub­jects, already affixed with half a dozen potential epithets: the Golden, the Great, the Just, the Illustrious, the Fair, the Ready. He had no reason to know her. “My dear cousin,” said Marozia, touching the small of her back. “Agnes.” “Agnes,” Liuprand repeated. “You must be mourning the great old woman as well. I have heard she was especially attached to her grand­children. How is your heart?” Buy the Book Innamorata Ava Reid Buy Book Innamorata Ava Reid Buy this book from: AmazonBarnes and NobleiBooksIndieBoundTarget “Aggrieved, Your Highness, of course,” Marozia said. She gave Agnes’s back a soothing pat. “But your attendance honors our house and warms our cold spirits.” The smallest of furrows ran along Liuprand’s noble brow. His eyes left Agnes briefly, flickered to Marozia, then returned to her. “And you, Lady Agnes?” The bile of nervousness rose in her throat. The prince’s gaze was not malicious, but it was probing. Quickly, before the silence could stretch on too unpleasantly, Marozia took her hand. “Aggrieved as well, Your Highness,” she said. Her voice was smooth, cloaking any strangeness the prince might have observed. It would not do to have him unnerved or suspicious. They were meant to be mend­ing the bridges Adele-Blanche had broken, treating the old wounds she had inflicted, draining the moats she had dug around the House of Teeth. When still Liuprand regarded Agnes in that rather puzzled manner, Marozia hastened to say, “But she, too, is cheered by your presence.” “I am glad,” he said, finally lifting his eyes from Agnes’s face. The furrow, however, did not disappear from his brow. “Perhaps when your grief is not so fresh, we may discuss the future of your house’s rela­tionship to the Crown.” A joyful flush filled Marozia’s cheeks. “Yes,” she said. “I would like that very much.” “I mean no disrespect to your grandmother’s memory, of course. But with the House of Teeth under the purview of a new mistress, there may be a path forward yet untrodden.” “It is to be my first act as Mistress of Teeth,” Marozia said. She squeezed Agnes’s hand in a very significant way that almost hurt. “If it please Your Highness, I will visit Castle Crudele within the month to discuss these arrangements.” “It would please me very much, Lady Marozia.” Liuprand nodded at her. And then he looked to Agnes again. His eyes were a water-bright blue but seemingly without depths, such that they reflected her own countenance back at her. These two cerulean mirrors showed a blanched oval face, thin dark eyebrows, and imperturbable lips. “Lady Agnes.” She dipped her head in acknowledgment and performed a half curtsy. It was a perfect gesture that would have pleased her grand­mother enormously. Acquiescent enough to satisfy the superior being, yet still withholding complete submission. As he turned, the Dolorous Guard were inspired to life again, form­ing a phalanx around the prince. Now only the crown of his golden head could be seen, rising atop the bobbing gray helmets. He was es­corted into the waiting carriage, which was made of a splendorous soldered metal that seemed not to show the mud that must have ac­cumulated on its wheels and its belly as it clambered up the mountain to Castle Peake. Marozia was standing on her tiptoes to watch his departure, one hand braced on Agnes’s shoulder. Agnes stood flat on her feet and felt the mist creep around her with a cold, solicitous grip. On the top step of the carriage, Liuprand looked back. He had a curiously unimposing gaze for a prince. It was an intense gaze, to be sure, but it did not demand. It seemed merely to ask. And for a reason Agnes could not comprehend, his gaze lay not upon the black tree branches that fingered into the flat gray air, nor upon the mud pit that contained her grandmother’s infinitesimal matter, nor upon beautiful Marozia in the deep-red gown that impressed her on the world like a passionate stain of blood, but upon her. Silent, grim Lady Agnes, wearing bruise-colored silk. His stare could not have rested there for more than a quarter min­ute, yet it felt the length of hours. Then without warning, Liuprand ducked into the carriage, and a member of the Dolorous Guard stepped forward to close the door behind him. Innamorata copyright © 2026 by Ava Reid. Used by permission of Del Rey, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York. All rights reserved. Cannot be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. The post Read an Excerpt From <i>Innamorata</i> by Ava Reid appeared first on Reactor.