Maxym M. Martineau debuts cover and excerpt from gothic romantasy “House of Blight ”(exclusive)

The novel, the first in a duology, is "Jane Eyre" meets Sarah J. Maas.

Maxym M. Martineau isn't afraid of the dark.

At least, not on the page anyway. The fantasy romance author has authored plenty of books about dark magic, elaborate schemes to bring down kingdoms, and strange ailments. But she's amping things up with her next book, House of Blight, the first in a gothic romantasy duology.

Entertainment Weekly can exclusively debut the cover and an excerpt from the novel, which will hit shelves April 8, 2025.

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The novel follows threadmender Edira Brillwyn, who holds a rare, lifesaving power that can cure disease and heal injuries in the blink of an eye. Never mind that the cost of her magic is sacrificing a sliver of her own life. For her own sake, she's kept her abilities hidden...until the powerful Fernglove family discovers her secret.

The Ferngloves are members of the ruling elite, charming, beautiful, in possession of powerful magic, and unwilling to take no for an answer. But everything changes when Edira's brothers unexpectedly contract blight, an incurable virus killing people throughout the town. The illness is too intense for Edira to heal them, and she's shocked when the head of the Ferngloves, Orin, offers to help. The two pledge to work together at his estate, researching a cure. Orin will slow her brothers' sickness, while Edira practices her magic.

Related: J.R. Ward launching 4-book romantasy series Kingdoms of the Compass (exclusive)

Edira is taken aback by Orin's honesty and kindness, as well as her attraction to him. But Orin's other family members may be even more dangerous than the blight, suspicious of Edira's powers as they are. The longer she remains on Orin's estate, the more the cracks in their false perfection begin to show — until Edira discovers a terrifying secret and must choose who she can save and at what cost.

Check out the cover below and read on for an excerpt from House of Blight.

I began pushing in the drawers of my case when a hand with long, slender fingers adorned with polished rings touched my wrist. The motion was as gentle as checking for a pulse, and yet I couldn’t help but flinch.

Slowly, I raised my chin. He was beautiful—all Evers were—but he exuded a sense of regality that demanded adoration. Effortlessly wavy, oak-brown locks fell to his shoulders and framed his square jaw. Keen green eyes framed by thick lashes watched me intently. As if the sun had decided freckles were simply too mundane for someone like him, his skin seemed to be effused with golden flecks.

He tilted his head, and his locks fell behind his shoulder, exposing an intricate sword tattoo along his neck. The masterpiece was awash with gray and lined in heavy black, the hilt adorned with a single ruby gem and framed by bone-white flowers with gray leaves. The blade itself was severed, the jagged edge dipping toward his collarbone. Insects of every make swirled around the broken metal. Where everything else was inked in graphite, the insects were an artist’s palette exploding with vibrant color.

Fernglove. And not just any Fernglove, Orin Fernglove. Head of his estate and overseer of our mines’ profits.

The same Ever who’d come for my aunt all those years ago.

“What do we have here?” he purred, dragging his fingers from my wrist to snare a vial and raise it to the sky.

“Performictum. I didn’t know Evers needed help in the bedroom, but you’re welcome to take it.”

His smile hardened. “I can assure you, I don’t need it.” With precise fingers, he slipped the vial back into place.

My blood cooled. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

I had, but more for his benefit than mine. I wanted him to know that I wasn’t like the rest of the townsfolk who were overeager to fall into his good graces.

Beside the table, Lysa rolled her lower lip into her mouth as her gaze bounced from him to me. My slight hadn’t gone unnoticed. The folks who’d gathered close to eavesdrop all stilled. If he left market without purchasing anything due to my words, I’d never hear the end of it.

And then all at once a rolling laugh rumbled from the pit of Orin’s stomach and the tension evaporated.

“No offense taken,” Orin said, voice as smooth as syrup. He tucked his loose hair behind his ears, and an array of piercings winked in the sun. “Packing up? Let’s see what else you have to offer.”

“Are you in need of anything specific?” I studied the smooth planes of his face, free of wrinkles or scars. There were no bags beneath his eyes, no sag to his shoulders or hitch to his breath. Like all Evers, he was completely healthy.

“I’m not sure you offer it.” His fingers dawdled over my remedies, but his gaze was locked on my face. “Perhaps it’s something we can discuss in private.”

I blinked. “Private?”

“Yes.” His stare roved to my lips. “I’ve been to Willowfell many times, but I’ve never met you before. Why is that?”

He’d met me before, he just didn’t remember. I’d always wondered if he’d dared to look around the room when he came calling for Aunt Rowena. If he’d noticed me wrapped in my mother’s arms as we watched quietly from the couch.

“I’m often away.” I gestured to my case. “I forage for my own herbs and brew these myself.”

“Such talent.” The low murmur of his voice somehow blanketed out the sounds of the market as his fingers ghosted above my hand.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Edira,” I said. No sense in hiding that.

“What was it you needed, again?”

Without moving, he slowly tilted his chin upward to peer into my eyes. “As I said, perhaps it’s better discussed in private. Over tea?”

My heart hammered against my ribcage. “You want to have tea with me?”

“Why not?” His lips curled softly at the corners. “I’m interested to hear what other quips might slip from that tongue of yours. Performictum.” His laugh was low and heady.

A familiar unease twined through me.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have time. I’m sure Row…your threadmender would be of better assistance than me.” I speared my tongue with my teeth—the one he was apparently so interested in—and kept the rest of my words at bay.

A glimmer of shock temporarily coursed through his features, and then he let out a long sigh. “Rowena was a dear friend of mine. She was helping me with some ground-breaking work, even documenting the scope of her abilities in the hopes her magic could continue to help others after she passed. She is no longer with us, which is precisely why I find myself standing before your stall.”

A deep ache rooted in my chest, and heat pricked at the backs of my eyes. I fought to keep my breath even, to keep my tears at bay. While I’d expected as much, it still hurt to know she was gone. I’d always hoped that somehow, someway, I’d see her again.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but if nothing here suits you, then I can’t help you.” I scooted the leather case out of his reach and fastened the clasps.

“I understand.” He held my gaze for entirely too long. Something sorrowful, something almost human, passed through his eyes. “I’ll find a solution more befitting to my needs, though I do hope our paths cross again.”

“Yes, well, I should be going.” I lifted the cases and tipped my chin in the slightest show of politeness I could muster. “Good day.”

He regarded me for a moment before shifting his focus to the trellis at my back, as if I didn’t exist. “I certainly hope it will be.” With only the barest movement of his chin, he nodded once to himself.

I didn’t dare respond. Instead, I turned on my heels and moved as quickly as I could without sprinting. But, I couldn’t shake the chill ravaging my skin. Or worse, the dangerous thought that his parting words—so soft and yet so full of unspoken threat—weren’t intended for me at all.

Adapted from House of Blight by Maxym M. Martineau, published by Harper Voyager. Copyright © 2025 by Maxym M. Martineau. Reprinted courtesy of HarperCollins Publishers. 

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