Women of the Otherworld #7
On Sale: February 26, 2008
Mass Market Paperback
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Horror | Fantasy
Readers around the world have fallen for Kelley
Armstrongâ€™s intoxicating, sensual and wicked tales of the
paranormal, in which demons and witches, werewolves and
vampires collide â€“ often hilariously, sometimes violently â€“
with everyday life. In Armstrongâ€™s first six novels,
Elena, Paige and Eve have had their way with us. Now get
ready for Jaime Vegas, the luscious, lovelorn and haunted
necromancer. . .
Jaime, who knows a thing or two
about showbiz, is on a television shoot in Los Angeles
when weird things start to happen. As a woman whose
special talent is raising the dead, her threshold for
weirdness is pretty high: sheâ€™s used to not only seeing
dead people but hearing them speak to her in very emphatic
terms. But for the first time in her life â€“ as invisible
hands brush her skin, unintelligible fragments of words
are whispered into her ears, and beings move just at the
corner of her eyeâ€“she knows what humans mean when they
talk about being haunted.
She is determined to get
to the bottom of these manifestations, but as she sets out
to solve the mystery she has no idea how scary her
investigation will get, or to what depths ordinary humans
will sink in their attempts to gain supernatural powers.
As she digs into the dark underside of Los Angeles, sheâ€™ll
need as much Otherworld help as she can get in order to
survive, calling on her personal angel, Eve, and Hope, the
well-meaning chaos demon. Jeremy, the alpha werewolf, is
also by her side offering protection. And, Jaime hopes,
maybe a little more than that.
â€śAs I knelt on
the cobblestones to begin the ritual, I opened not some
ancient leather pouch, but a Gucci make-up
bag. . . .
I know little about the geography and
theology of the afterlife, but I do know that the worst
spirits are kept secured, and my risk of â€śaccidentallyâ€ť
tapping into a hell dimension is next to nil. Even if I do
bring back some depraved killerâ€™s spirit, what can it do
to me? When you deprive someone of the ability to act in
the living world, heâ€™s pretty darned helpless. In death,
even the worst killer plummets from lethal to merely
Yet whatever had been trying to contact
me apparently could cross that barrier, could act in the
living world. . .at least on me. I added an extra helping
of vervain to the censer.â€ť
â€”from No Humans
From the Hardcover edition.
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