But this is what I could not give up: I could not give up myself Psyche has known Love—scented with jasmine and tasting of fresh oranges. Yet he is fleeting and fragile, lost to her too quickly. Punished by self-doubt, Psyche yearns to be transformed, like the beautiful and brutal figures in the myths her lover once spoke of. Attempting to uncover beauty in the darkness, she is challenged, tested, and changed by the gods and demons who tempt her. Her faith must be found again, for if she is to love, she must never look back. But this is what I could not give up: I could not give up myself Psyche has known Love—scented with jasmine and tasting of fresh oranges. Yet he is fleeting and fragile, lost to her too quickly. Punished by self-doubt, Psyche yearns to be transformed, like the beautiful and brutal figures in the myths her lover once spoke of. Attempting to uncover beauty in the darkness, she is challenged, tested, and changed by the gods and demons who tempt her. Her faith must be found again, for if she is to love, she must never look back. Francesca Lia Block, winner of the prestigious Margaret A. Edwards Award, is the author of many acclaimed and bestselling books, including Weetzie Bat ; the book collections Dangerous Angels: The Weetzie Bat Books and Roses and Bones: Myths, Tales, and Secrets ; the illustrated novella House of Dolls ; the vampire romance novel Pretty Dead ; and the gothic werewolf novel The Frenzy . Her work is published around the world. Psyche in a Dress By Francesca Block HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. Copyright © 2008 Francesca Block All right reserved. ISBN: 9780060763763 Psyche I am not a goddess I am my father's My father had me mutilated twice He had my mother and sisters murdered more than once but he has never killed me off sometimes I think he only gave me life so I could be his muse, his actress They say he does things with me to work through issues he had with my mother I look just like her in the early films but now she is gone In the first film I had to take off my top I stood there, shivering with my hands covering my breasts as the cameras were rolling A million caterpillars crawled over my bones and my stomach was filled with the wings of dying moths But I knew what I had to do I am an actress I am my father's I do my job It was easier after that I got used to all the crew watching My father watching People said that I was odd-looking not the typical face you see but my father tells me I am perfect, just what he wants My father says "These actors, they try to do too much You know how to just be Don't try to do anything else You are an actress My princess" I live with my father in a dirty-white mansion made of the bones and teeth of actors It has been the scene of many atrocities in my father's films There are crumbling columns in front and a dining room we never use with a giant chandelier from which one of my father's characters hung herself There is a huge tiled pool surrounded by crumbling, headless, limbless statues ficus trees entwined with morning glories beds of calla lilies and oleander bushes I can see the pool from my window empty my father rarely fills it with water It was used for a drowning in another film I have a large room with a large bed draped in diaphanous fabrics I have my own bathroom with a sunken tub and a view through glass walls of my private, somewhat overgrown rose garden peeling white iron chairs and mossy fountains I have a walk-in closet of my mother's designer clothes In one interview I read my mother said that she sold her soul for that wardrobe A black satin-trimmed smoking jacket and trousers a white satin-trimmed smoking jacket and matching satin skirt, a golden pleated chiffon Grecian gown, a golden sweater covered with gemstones, a white silk wrap dress covered with giant red peonies, a pink suit with a short jacket and skirt, shift dresses in white, black, red sapphire, emerald and tangerine silk or satin, some with large bows in back, piles of cashmere sweaters in lipstick colors, some with silk flowers from obis appliquéd on them, and many, many shoes When my mother left us, she took only a black suit a pair of jeans, a red silk blouse her jewels and five pairs of the shoes Sometimes I lie awake at night wondering how she chose them I knew which ones they were because I knew her wardrobe better than she did: black leather riding boots black lizard pumps strappy golden sandals ruby red flats emerald green satin dancing shoes with ankle straps I was so jealous of those shoes Sometimes I put on one of the dresses light candles and dance with my mother's shadow Most of the time, at night, I use only candles in my room waiting for her to come back Even a wraith is better than nothing even a silhouette on the wall My father's new girlfriend, Aphrodite wanted to be the star of his film and he wouldn't replace me Once I heard him saying to her, "She's seventeen! She'