Harry Whittaker

THE SEVEN SISTERS SERIES

More than 25 million copies sold worldwide

The Seven Sisters series is the multimillion-copy bestselling phenomenon, inspired by the mythology of the famous star constellation. Brimming with Lucinda Riley’s trademark sweeping storytelling, travelling between past, present and the most exotic locations in the world, this is fiction like never before.

‘A brilliant page-turner just soaked in glamour and romance’

Daily Mail

‘A magical storyteller who creates characters we fall in love with and who stay with us long after we finish reading’

Sunday Times bestseller Lucy Foley

‘If you’ve ever wondered if writers are magicians, just read one of Lucinda Riley’s novels and you’ll have the answer’

New York Times bestseller M. J. Rose

‘Addictive storytelling’

Woman & Home

THE SEVEN SISTERS

The Seven Sisters is the first book in the spellbinding series.

Maia D’Aplièse and her five sisters gather together at their childhood home – a fabulous, secluded castle situated on the shores of Lake Geneva – having been told that their beloved adoptive father, the elusive billionaire they call Pa Salt, has died.

Each of them is handed a tantalising clue to their true heritage – a clue which takes Maia across the world to a crumbling mansion in Rio de Janeiro in Brazil . . .

Eighty years earlier, in the Belle Époque of Rio, 1927, Izabela Bonifacio’s father has aspirations for his daughter to marry into aristocracy. But Izabela longs for adventure, and convinces him to allow her to accompany the family of a renowned architect on a trip to Paris. In the heady, vibrant streets of Montparnasse, she meets ambitious young sculptor Laurent Brouilly, and knows at once that her life will never be the same again.

Turn the page to read an extract or click here to buy . . .

1

I will always remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I heard that my father had died.

I was sitting in the pretty garden of my old schoolfriend’s townhouse in London, a copy of The Penelopiad open but unread in my lap, enjoying the June sun while Jenny collected her little boy from nursery.

I felt calm and appreciated what a good idea it had been to get away. I was studying the burgeoning clematis, encouraged by its sunny midwife to give birth to a riot of colour, when my mobile phone rang. I glanced at the screen and saw it was Marina.

‘Hello, Ma, how are you?’ I said, hoping she could hear the warmth in my voice too.

‘Maia, I . . .’

Marina paused, and in that instant I knew something was dreadfully wrong. ‘What is it?’

‘Maia, there’s no easy way to tell you this, but your father had a heart attack here at home yesterday afternoon, and in the early hours of this morning, he . . . passed away.’