Kiersten White, the bestselling author of works for children, teens and adults, dazzles in her spellbinding, sapphic take on everyone’s favorite vampire: Dracula. But in LUCY UNDYING, Dracula is pushed aside, and his most famous victim, Lucy Westenra, takes center stage to tell her story: one of love, obsession and reclamation. Inviting us into her tale, Lucy warns, “I’ll start at the beginning. The beginning is, as all beginnings are, soaked in blood and shrouded in darkness. The end will be, too, but we’ll get there together. My name is Lucy Westenra, and this is my story.”

Historically, 19-year-old Lucy has been described as “blonde, demure, and waiting for the right man to come along to marry her.” In White’s retelling, she very well may be blonde and demure --- captivatingly beautiful, in fact, if her three warring suitors are any indication --- but one thing she is decidedly not is in want of a husband. In fact, Lucy has harbored a “will they, won’t they” love for her former governess, Mina, for about as long as she can remember. At times it seems like Mina returns her affections, but at others she is surprisingly cold and removed.

A forbidden romance is one thing in 1890 England, but a hidden sapphic love is not all that plagues Lucy. She is also tormented by her ailing mother, a controlling hypochondriac who “loves like a knife, slicing [Lucy] into ever smaller pieces until [she’s] exactly the shape that pleases her most.” Living in an era that has relegated women to the home, more specifically the bedroom, Lucy dreams of finding her own power and unlocking her own identity. Instead, she finds Dracula, eternal life and an endless thirst for blood.

"Readers who have longed to see [Lucy's] tale --- and her obsession with Mina --- unpacked and blown apart will delight in this captivating, spellbinding work, as well as its empowering feminist messaging."

But Lucy is not our only protagonist. In 2024, a young woman named Iris begins the battle to destroy her family legacy. Her mother, a monstrous, controlling woman who ran a multi-level marketing cult until her death, raised Iris on the mantra that “the blood is life.” (If that sounds vaguely --- or even outrageously --- vampiric to you, you can guess at the horrors Iris is trying to avoid.) Her journey begins in London, where she plans to ransack her family home, sell anything of value and divorce herself from the poisonous Goldaming name forever.

Planning is one thing, but facing the looming gothic monstrosity that is Hillingham is another. For classifying as a mansion, Hillingham is shockingly claustrophobic, draped in peacock feather wallpaper, lacking electricity and possessing a single hidden door that leads Iris to a locked room. A delicate vanity, a blackened mirror and a lace-covered brass bed populate the room, and a boarded window provides only the barest glimpse of light. Certain that this room --- which seems as hastily put together as if its owner had just dashed out --- must be hiding jewels or other personal valuables, Iris sets to work exploring, but all she finds is a seemingly worthless journal. Covered in girlish, loopy cursive, the book announces itself as the diary of Lucy, the former occupant of Iris’ family home.

As Lucy’s tale of being turned, discovering her powers and engaging in romantic entanglements with Dracula’s other wives unfolds, Iris meets an angelically beautiful woman named Elle, a museum appraiser who offers to help her identify and sell anything of value in Hillingham. But an eerie air hangs over the abandoned mansion, and Iris’ fear that her mother’s employees continue to watch her ramps up the tension, playing beautifully against her developing crush on Elle. By day, Iris swims in romantic tension; by night, she reads Lucy’s diary, also falling a bit in love with the wry, funny girl. She often wishes she could jump in and save Lucy from the imprisonment of her conservative era, tempestuous mother and bevy of unappealing suitors, each of whom seems to want to own, rather than court, her.

Of course, being undead is a permanent condition, so the Lucy who White introduces to her readers is not confined to 1890 or even to her diary. In alternating chapters, Lucy recounts the last century to a therapist in Boston in 2024, her proximity to Iris’ timeline, which promises a delicious twist or two. And White more than delivers on this count. Unveiling Lucy's story in her own words, she upends the Lucy readers have come to know over years of DRACULA adaptations and retellings, turning this otherwise misogynistic, vampiric tale into one of female empowerment and love bordering on obsession.

To say that LUCY UNDYING is a feminist retelling of DRACULA is true, but that is only half the story. White has not only reclaimed the tragic Lucy from her garish death, she has penned something totally unique and original in the process. Even as she unpacks a century of death, blood and violence, her focus is less on the glamour and gore of vampirism and more on the implications of a life unlived for far too long. The Lucy we meet is bold and powerful, but she is also devastatingly dedicated to her search for love --- at times the real, true love that seems confined to storybooks, but more often to the far more human, much more dysfunctional love of the familiar…even when it hurts. Turned by a viciously cruel, seemingly untouchable vampire, Lucy longs for the connection of transformation, even if it means seeking out her maker. After all, he must feel something for her if he was so eager to turn her, right?

Lucy’s obsessive search for reciprocal devotion pairs beautifully with Iris’ growing feelings for both Elle and the Lucy of her diary, resulting in an unflinchingly sapphic work of gothic horror that never shies away from violence, but also does not punish its characters for their queerness. The distinction is refreshing and crackles with power and potential, turning this centuries-old tale into something that feels modern while still paying appropriate homage to its source material. Add to that two seriously poignant mother-daughter storylines that dig deep into the nature of legacy and control, and you have the makings of a masterpiece.

Purist DRACULA fans and scholars may balk at this creative, unique interpretation of Dracula’s most famous victim, but that’s exactly the point: the Lucy of White’s creation is no victim. In fact, you may find that she has been the hero all along. Readers who have longed to see her tale --- and her obsession with Mina --- unpacked and blown apart will delight in this captivating, spellbinding work, as well as its empowering feminist messaging.