Dear Reader Letter from Eileen Wilks on Ritual Magic
Maybe you and I have met, either in person or online. Maybe not. Not everyone hangs out on Facebook or fires off an email after reading a book. But even if you and I have never had any personal contact, I know two things about you: if you read my books, you and I like the same kind of stories; and you either have or have had a mother.
Mothers are an inescapable fact of life. We all spent time in someone's womb, and there begins one of the most intimate, tangled, and powerful relationships we'll ever know. Mothers have been revered and reviled, blamed for everything from bed-wetting to serial killers, honored by a day that keeps Hallmark in business, propped up on pedestals, and pitched to by countless advertising agencies.
And always, always, mothers are remembered. Even if the woman who bore you didn't raise you, she left behind her hair or her nose, a quick temper or an aptitude at math. . . and maybe an open spot filled with questions. No matter what blend of blessing and bane, of intimacy or void, makes up the web tying you to your mother, you will not forget her.
In Ritual Magic, Lily Yu has an opportunity the rest of us never will; she gets to know her mother when Julia was a twelve-year-old girl. As with many things connected with mothers and mothering, this doesn't seem like a blessing at the time. It certainly isn't intended to be one. Lily has an enemy—ancient, undying, but unable to enter this realm. However, her enemy's acolyte, Robert Friar, is very much present and actively seeking to do her harm.
Not that this is his first priority, but Friar will take any chance he can to hurt Lily, as long as it doesn't interfere with his main goal: helping his undying mistress take over the world so she can reshape it —and us —to please her.