It’s one of the first phrases we learn as children. To be alive is to want things. There are the mundane things—food, clothes, and entertainment. And then there are the more fantastical. Who hasn’t spent an afternoon day dreaming about what they could do with a winning lottery ticket? Or a fairy godmother appearing to give you a makeover and a date with royalty? Or three wishes? Who wouldn’t want that?
But what if those three wishes could give you what you wanted, but not how you wanted it?
I love stories about ill-fated deals. These stories about how one’s desires can sometimes lead them astray. There’s a delicious tension to know that a character will get what they want—and it’s the worst possible thing that could happen to them.
In the course of research for my newest novel, I considered many such deals. The Hearts We Sold is ...