Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Copyright

      Prologue

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

       Chapter 8

       Chapter 9

       Chapter 10

       Epilogue

       About the Publisher

       The Old Country: Thirteen Years Ago

      AT THE TOP of a jagged cliff over the churning sea, preparations were under way for a wedding.

      An Addams wedding.

      There were no white flowers. There was no frothy lace. The town church stood empty, and the townsfolk shivered and scowled as they watched the bride stride up the street towards the cliff. Heat lightning flickered in the darkening sky. A few bats fluttered behind the bride as she and her black-clad bridesmaids made their way up to the cliff.

      ‘They don’t belong here!’ one townsperson hissed to another.

      ‘They’re frightening the children!’ she replied.

      ‘Who do they think they are?’ another villager spat.

      They watched as the bride and her bridesmaids disappeared into the gloomy night, vanishing into the scrub that lined the path up to the top of the cliff.

      The villagers glared after them.

      ‘They’ve got to go,’ said one, and the rest nodded.

      Morticia Frump kept climbing up the hill towards the cliff that overlooked the sea. She ignored how the townsfolk whispered and pointed. She didn’t care what they thought. They were boring, normal people with small minds and prejudiced hearts.

      No, today Morticia had better things to think about. She was ready to get married. Not only was she marrying the man of her dreams, but the wedding would bring together two great families. The Frumps and the Addamses were the strangest folk around, and they’d always had so much in common. Morticia smiled at the thought that her wedding would unite everyone.

      She’d been preparing all morning. Her knee-high boots were bolted on. Her corset was tightened to the ‘strangle’ setting. Her nails had been dipped in molten lead for that perfect dull grey hue. And her dress looked like it had been stolen from someone’s grave … which it very well might have been.

      Morticia looked terrifying. Which was exactly how she wanted to look.

      She reached the top of the hill, then paused. Here, the hill evened out into a narrow strip of level land. You could walk about ten paces before you hit the crumbling edge of the cliff. One step past that edge, and you’d plummet two hundred metres down into a churning ocean. The footing was uncertain in the dark of night. The odds that someone might wander off the edge of the cliff by accident were pretty high. It was the perfect place for a wedding.

      Morticia smiled. And the collected Addams and Frump clans, gathered there at that cliff to celebrate her wedding, smiled back. There were a large number of people assembled on the narrow cliff’s edge. Every single one of them was strange. Some of them were creepy. Others were kooky. One or two were altogether ooky.

      And they were all of them just thrilled to be there.

      Awaiting Morticia was Gomez, the groom. He sweated nervously in his funeral suit (nothing but the best for a wedding, after all). The band – a ragtag collection of organ grinders and sackbut players – began a dirge-like rendition of ‘Here Comes the Bride’, and Gomez snapped to attention.

      Morticia was coming.

      Gomez wasn’t sure if he’d ever been this terrified in his life. His stomach churned. His vision swam. His knees trembled and his ears rang. It was the worst he’d ever felt. He wished he could feel like this forever.

      Pat, pat. Gomez patted his pockets anxiously, checking to make sure he had the ring. Pat, pat.

       Pat, pat.

       Pat.

      Patpatpatpatpat – where was the ring?!