I'm not usually that into books that linger in the early 20th century. Sure, I'm happy to time travel there on my way to another time period, but Alex Bell is such a talented writer that I would have happily signed up to stay longer on the Isle of Skye reading by rationed greasy, stinky, animal fat candlelight. They were popular during the Victorian period and are based on a ballad about a young woman who refuses to wrap up warm for a sleigh ride to a ball and, when they arrive, her fiancé discovers that she’s frozen to death during the journey. The dolls are normally made of white porcelain and have unjointed “frozen” limbs that are intended to portray a corpse. It seemed so typically macabre of the Victorians to create dead dolls for their children to play with! The dolls all come naked, with only painted hair, facial features and shoes. The idea was supposed to be that children would make dresses for them out of any spare fabric their mothers might have lying around.

I loved the creepy doll aspect. The Frozen Charlotte dolls are evil and they torture every people around them. This idea is brilliant! I want to see more books about spooky toys!Henry was going to be my second favourite character as he was so sweet and loyal and loving, but he ended up annoying me because no one is that perfect. So, my actual second favourite character/s? The super creepy evil dolls, all named Frozen Charlotte with the exception of the lone male known as Frozen Charlie. Interestingly enough I don't remember Charlie being psychotic but the poor guy was surrounded by some seriously unbalanced female dolls. I also researched Ouija boards and old schoolhouses. The research was definitely the creepiest part of the process, especially all the stuff I read about haunted dolls. Some of them look terrifying as well! I had to try to put it all out of my mind before turning out the light to go to bed, but I have to admit to being generally more easily startled whilst I’m writing a horror novel! For many beachcombers, the Frozen Charlotte doll is a strange and exciting prize. These beautiful and slightly creepy pieces of Victorian history wash ashore in many different sizes and styles, and have a notoriously dark origin story. The tale is well-known in the beachcombing community: A young woman Charlotte wanted to attend a New Year’s ball on a particularly cold night. She insisted on traveling in an open sleigh so she could show off her beautiful gown, despite her mother’s many warnings and pleading advice to dress more warmly. Foolish and vain, Charlotte disobeyed her mother and froze to death. But should these distinctive beach finds actually be called “Frozen Charlotte” dolls? I've seen some reviewers label this series as "young adult", but in Alex Bell's books, I would have to wholeheartedly disagree. Her fluid manner of conveying horrors--be they otherworldly, or the day-to-day existence of the girls at Dunvegan School--is so emotive and detailed that the situations her characters faced were all too "real" to envision. Combine her intense grasp of the atmosphere being set with the brutality and occasional gore, and you have a story that is certain to sustain most horror-loving adults. To that end she eagerly started a Law Degree only to find it so boring that she was at a very real risk of going completely insane. To mitigate this she started writing again. The second book got her an agent with Carolyn Whitaker of London Independent Books but, unfortunately, not a publisher. The third book, written during her first summer holidays off from university, found a home with Gollancz. The Ninth Circle came out in April 2008 with possibly the most beautiful cover ever created (matched only by her second book, Jasmyn).

I hate dolls. I have to start by saying this because this book is all about creepy little dolls and it really freaked me out. I’ve never been more grateful that I don’t have a load of dolls in my bedroom or I probably wouldn’t have slept since reading this book. Sophie anticipated her stay with her cousin to provide a few weeks of freedom and fun. However, haunted by the tragic death of her best friend and the spooky circumstances that led up to his demise, she arrives bringing more baggage than just her psychical ones. Her cousins, already consumed by their own grief, have no room to support any more. Since the death of their sibling Rebecca, years before, the family has forever been fractured, and Sophie had no idea how deep the fissures run. Now the smiling cousins she remembers from her youth are sombre and burdened individuals. And Sophie is left to repair both the memory of this once-happy family as well as discerning the particulars of her best friend's death, alone. But maybe she isn't as alone as she first thought... There isn’t a single reference (in magazines, books, newspapers, or anything else for that matter) of these porcelain dolls being called “Frozen Charlottes” in the entire 19th and early 20th centuries. This is pretty remarkable, considering the near-universal belief that this time period was the origin of the dolls’ name. In spite of how creepy this book was it isn't a five star read. And now I will say that if you plan to read this:The dolls were sold well into the 20th century, and surviving examples are easy to find online. But there’s another way to enjoy the doll’s culinary legacy, because Frozen Charlotte also took on another association. During the doll’s heyday, the ladyfinger-and-Bavarian cream dessert Charlotte Russe was also popular. Gradually, a frozen version of the dessert came to be called, of course, “Frozen Charlotte”: an appropriately sweet, if chilly, name. Frozen Charlotte, to me, is The Shining meets Dolls . It’s a story about creepy dolls, a secluded islan, and a bit of a psychological thriller that will keep you on edge (and probably have you keeping your lights on when you go to bed). Frozen Charlotte” dolls are one piece dolls with bent arms and range in size from just 1 inch to over 18 inches. They were manufactured first in Germany and then later in Britain, and likely elsewhere, between 1850 and 1920. The name “Frozen Charlotte” was associated with the dolls once they were gaining in popularity. It is inspired by a folk ballad about “Young Charlotte” or “Frozen Charlotte” who froze to death while on a carriage ride to a winter’s ball.