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Zoë Martinique #3
Phantasm
Read Phaedra Weldon's posts on the Penguin Blog.
The newest in a series that's "part paranormal whodunit, part urban fantasy"( Publishers Weekly ) by the author of Wraith and Spectre .
Just when Zoë Martinique, formerly ordinary twenty-something, was getting used to the idea that she was possessed of extraordinary powers, she lost them. Without cause or warning. And at the worst possible time.
Now, unless she can figure out how to go Wraith again, she won't be able to rescue her mother, whose soul is trapped on the Abysmal plane.
Her only hope is to join forces with an old enemy, who has his own dark reasons for helping her. From him she learns that only a traumatic experience can bring the Wraith back. To get out-of-body, Zoë will have to look for big, dangerous trouble-and fast.
For there is a deadly and powerful being within the Abysmal that wishes Zoë never existed...and it's coming for her.
The newest in a series that's "part paranormal whodunit, part urban fantasy"( Publishers Weekly ) by the author of Wraith and Spectre .
Just when Zoë Martinique, formerly ordinary twenty-something, was getting used to the idea that she was possessed of extraordinary powers, she lost them. Without cause or warning. And at the worst possible time.
Now, unless she can figure out how to go Wraith again, she won't be able to rescue her mother, whose soul is trapped on the Abysmal plane.
Her only hope is to join forces with an old enemy, who has his own dark reasons for helping her. From him she learns that only a traumatic experience can bring the Wraith back. To get out-of-body, Zoë will have to look for big, dangerous trouble-and fast.
For there is a deadly and powerful being within the Abysmal that wishes Zoë never existed...and it's coming for her.
368 pages, Paperback
First published April 28, 2009
6 people are currently reading
428 people want to read
About the author
Phaedra Weldon
155 books362 followersSometimes credited as Phaedra M. Weldon.
Born in Pensacola, Florida, Phaedra is the eldest of four children. She began writing in notebooks with her best friend in middle school.
After leaving college for a job in the Graphic Arts industry, Phaedra continued her love of writing in her spare time and was lucky enough at a writer's conference to meet Dean Wesley Smith, who later became her writing mentor, along with his wife, the bestselling mystery/fantasy/romance/science fiction writer, Kristine Kathryn Rusch.
Phaedra lives in Atlanta, Georgia. When not writing, she and her daughter spend their time playing games, letterboxing, or watching anime.
Series:
* Zoe Martinique
Born in Pensacola, Florida, Phaedra is the eldest of four children. She began writing in notebooks with her best friend in middle school.
After leaving college for a job in the Graphic Arts industry, Phaedra continued her love of writing in her spare time and was lucky enough at a writer's conference to meet Dean Wesley Smith, who later became her writing mentor, along with his wife, the bestselling mystery/fantasy/romance/science fiction writer, Kristine Kathryn Rusch.
Phaedra lives in Atlanta, Georgia. When not writing, she and her daughter spend their time playing games, letterboxing, or watching anime.
Series:
* Zoe Martinique
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October 5, 2016
**Read Phaedra Weldon's posts on the Penguin Blog. **
**The newest in a series that's "part paranormal whodunit, part urban fantasy"(*Publishers Weekly*) by the author of *Wraith* and *Spectre*.**
Just when Zoë Martinique, formerly ordinary twenty-something, was getting used to the idea that she was possessed of extraordinary powers, she lost them. Without cause or warning. And at the worst possible time.
Now, unless she can figure out how to go Wraith again, she won't be able to rescue her mother, whose soul is trapped on the Abysmal plane.
Her only hope is to join forces with an old enemy, who has his own dark reasons for helping her. From him she learns that only a traumatic experience can bring the Wraith back. To get out-of-body, Zoë will have to look for big, dangerous trouble-and fast.
For there is a deadly and powerful being within the Abysmal that wishes Zoë never existed...and it's coming for her.
**
### About the Author
Phaedra Weldon was born in Florida and attended Georgia Southern University from where she launched a career in the graphics arts field. She began writing at the age of 10, reworking the endings of her favorite television shows, especially such classic favorites as Scooby Doo. She has had short fiction published in a number of anthologies and online sites. She lives with her husband and daughter in Atlanta, Georgia.
### Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
**March 21, late night**
I suck at magic.
Had no idea what I was doing.
Which was probably why I found myself looking at a six-foot purple flame burning an astral hole in my mom's living room. Earlier I'd pulled the rug back to reveal the huge pentagram painted on the wood floor beneath. The big *Book of Everything* lay open on the papasan chair, turned to a page I evidently had no business reading, and I was pretty much trapped between the flame and the fireplace.
Screaming seemed the appropriate thing to do—so I did.
Only—no one could hear me.
My name's Zoë. Martinique. And in the span of two weeks, I had lost my mother's soul, banished my best friend from my life, scared the crap out of my cop boyfriend, experienced crazy erotic dreams about another cop in whom I spent some recoup time (hey—clean thoughts here!), learned I was being stalked by two secret societies, as well as possibly damned my soul for all eternity.
Oh—and the cherry—my great-uncle was responsible for it all.
Period.
All of these things combined have proven one thing to me—I am the winner in the world's most-dysfunctional-family contest.
Top that! Ha!
Oh, and I'm mute. Not deaf. Though some people tended to think those two were synonymous, so when they discovered I couldn't talk, they started shouting at me really slow.
Idiots.
Though that word pretty much applied to me at that moment, as I attempted again to get around the flame. But if I tried to move to the right and jump on the couch, the damned thing moved with me. If I tried to fake it and jump to the left, it matched me again. And forget going *through * it. I'd already tried that and had one hell of a burn working along my right shoulder where the flame touched me. My jacket was still smoking. I had to face it— the flame was stalking *me*. Literally pushing me up against the fireplace.
Just as I was about to see if a human could climb up a chimney, I heard the bell over the front door chime, as well as felt the vibration on the hardwood floor. Seeing past the flame was getting difficult—I could make out the arch between the botanica where I was pinned, and the tea shop where the front door was. A beaded curtain usually separated the two stores—but I'd taken the damned thing down. Got tired of seeing it move with a breeze and thinking someone was in the house. Don't ask me where that breeze was coming from—I had no idea. I'd been jumpy—and with good reason. Knowing complete strangers were watching me was worse than *not * knowing. As I pressed myself against the mantel of the fireplace, I heard someone call my name, and I screamed out—both with my silent vocal cords as well as my thoughts. *What the hell are you doing? * came the voice in my mind. It was a male voice— but it wasn't Joe's. Whoever it was could hear my thoughts. So—I must have overshadowed (slipped inside of their body— kinda like possession but not really— at least not to me) them at some point. Unless it was a ghost?
Speaking of ghosts—where were Tim and Steve? Wasn't there something they could do? Oh—Tim and Steve were the resident ghosts of Mom's combo of house and shop (half botanica and half tea shop)—a couple who died in the basement. Pretty gruesome. Now's not the time to elaborate.
*Zoë? You there? *
Well, whoever it was *knew * me, and I could *hear * them.
*Hang on! *
I was hanging on. To the mantel. Two more inches and this thing was going to roast me alive!
A light brighter than the fire nearly blinded me, and I squinted, then looked away with my hand up in front of me. I was expecting to get singed any second—and let's not even talk about how bad my shoulder was hurting where the fire had touched it before.
And then the light against my eyelids dimmed to nothing, leaving me extremely cold.
A warm hand touched my cheek, and I jumped— I would have squeaked if I could— and there was the familiar voice again. I was blinking as fast as I could, but it was like looking too long into the center of a lightbulb, then looking away— I couldn't make out what was in front of me.
Not immediately.
". . . Zoë? Hey . . . look at me. You okay? Did the Portal Fire touch you?"
I blinked again. I could make out an outline. Definitely male. Close to my height. Short, tousled hair, and warm hands.
*J-Joe? *
There was a soft laugh. "No. Not hardly. You didn't look *into * the flame, did you?"
I paused.
There was a sigh. "Zoë . . ." It was more of a drawn-out whine than my name. Though I'd never noticed how well my name translated into a whine till that moment.
I shrugged. He put his hands on my wrist, then my shoulder, and guided me away from the fireplace and into the brighter light of the tea shop. Once there, I blinked even faster as I bumped into the table closest to the arch.
"Christ— you got singed! That shoulder looks bad. Sit down over here. I'll make you a calming tea and then get to work on the damage, okay?"
I could see the table and the chair easily enough, and I sat down. I hadn't realized I was shaking. Not just from nerves—mainly because I'd just nearly barbecued my ass— but because I was actually chilled. I could see the guy moving around in the kitchen, behind the cake-and-pie display. I could even see the display case pretty good.
*Why can't I see this person? Why isn't his voice registering with me? Did that flame burn out brain cells? *
Hey— no comments.
My shoulder started throbbing— each heartbeat feeding the stinging pain— so I reached around with my left hand and pulled my right arm closer to my chest. Ow, ow, ow. I felt a vibration on the floor and knew someone was at the back door before the lock turned and the hinges squeaked. From the sound of the shuffle, I knew it was the neighbor and Mom's friend, Jemmy Shultz.
"Hey, Jemmy!" the stranger called out.
"Well, I'll be!" came her comforting and familiar Southern drawl. She was laughing, and I could actually see her! Ah! Why could I see Jemmy just fine and not this other guy? Was he some sort of new, freaky Symbiont, Daimon, Abysmal thingie?
Oh God . . . is it TC? No . . . he has my voice . . . not a melodic man's voice.
I could hear backslapping and laughing. "Child—where have you been keeping yourself? It's been a coon's age since I saw you around here."
"Eh . . . here and there. Been a little busy since that little mess back in December. I was here briefly in January before things got crazy for me again. Heard what happened to Nona and came to see Zoë as soon as I could."
"Yeah," Jemmy said. "I just got back from my daily visit'n. Not sure I'm so comfortable with Nona being all quiet like that. Just staring at the ceiling."
My mom was soulless, lying in a bed at a long-term facility in Alpharetta called Miller Oaks. Sounded more like a mortuary to me. I knew why she was in a coma, and so did Jemmy. The doctors? Not so much. It was getting more and more expensive to keep her there, and I'd already moved into the shop and given up my apartment in midtown. Medicare and Medicaid only covered so much before the cost bled over into my mom's estate.
And I was not letting them touch her shop. They could drain my accounts before taking what she'd worked long and hard for. But I was about to hit rock bottom with the money—and I still hadn't found Mom's soul.
"Yeah . . . but what is that smell?"
"Burned magic," mystery man said.
I noticed she was coming toward me, and I waved. Her shuffle sped up, and the next thing I knew her cold hand was on my forehead, then she was touching my neck, my wrist.
*Uh . . . hello? Who's that in the kitchen? *
Too bad Jemmy couldn't hear me.
"Zoë!" Her hands were on my shoulder, and I hissed air. "What you been doing? How did you burn yourself up there? Oh my," she made a "tsk-tsk" noise. "That's gonna need some special care." She placed her cool hand on my forehead again. "You feel really warm. What's wrong with the botanica? It's all hazy and nasty."
"Coyote Flame," came the male voice. He came back to the table with something in his hand. Jemmy moved out of the way, and he pulled up a chair, the metal scraping on the wood floor.
"Apparently our little Wraith here decided to do magic."
"Oh noah," Jemmy said, and moved into the botanica.
"What were you trying to do, Zoë? You know magic's best left to those who can do it. Your momma's one of the best." She sighed and put her hands on her hips. I was looking at her back, then looking at the blurry guy beside me. "Well, there's bandages and rubb'n alcohol on the top shelf in the pantry."
"I won't need it."
"Oh? You got a bit more in those—"
There was a low laugh and whispering. And I could see Jemmy chuckling. And then he answered. "You could say that."
"Well then, you get Zoë all better, and I start cleaning and cleansing. I swear . . ." And she toddled off.
My attention focused on Blurry Dude. He put a hand on my forehead too, only his touch was still as warm as it had been before. And then he put his hand over my eyes.
*Why can't I see you? *
"Because of the burn. The Coyote Flame touched your skin—and you looked into its heart. Its purpose when summoned is to protect the Portal from intruders. Causes loss of sight, breath, illness, and eventually death."
*Death? *
He made a heavy sigh. "This would have worked if you'd been OOB, Zoë. Why in the hell aren't you out of body? If you want to build a gate, just do it—the Coyote Flame is for magicians who can't walk astrally, not Wraiths."
I suppressed the urge to reach out and pop this person in the face. *Well, nobody told me that*. He laughed again. "It's okay. I can fix it."
I rubbed at my eyes and tried to see him. It was like one of those weird films where everything's in black-and-white except for the main focus. Only everybody else was sharp, and he was blurry. It was just damned intolerable.
Mental note: *never look into the purple flame*.
"You don't recognize me, do you?"
*Uh . . . Can you give me a multiple choice?*
"You and I traveled through a similar door back in December," he said as he put his hand over my eyes. This time his hand turned cold, and it was like ice against my forehead. I winced—just a bit scared this was gonna turn into brain freeze. "Remember Allard Bonville? He pulled us through the door, but he was more experienced, so the Coyote Flame didn't try to prevent us from traveling. It's sort of a guardian against amateurs—only with a bit more danger."
Bonville. Shadow door.
*. . . little mess back in December . . . *
*
. . . was here briefly in January . . .?
*
This guy was talking about that little Shadow People incident I'd run into with Rhonda and—
He moved his hand away from my eyes. I blinked once, and his face came into sharp focus.
DAGS!
Dags winced, closing his left eye. "Yow—you need to dial down the astral yelling, lady."
I stared at him, taking in every inch of him. I hadn't seen Dags since he'd brought me coffee in the hospital that day when Joseph vanished, his tether to the physical world severed. Dags had disappeared not long after. I'd tried calling him in the two weeks since I somehow released Holmes in the warehouse, but his number had been disconnected.
It'd been over a month since I'd seen him— and he'd changed so much in that time. Something about him was different—physically as well as astrally.
Before Christmas—a week or so after Hirokumi was killed and Susan was saved—and of course I made the deal with TC to become the Wraith again—Dags, Rhonda, and I became involved with a Ceremonial Magician named Allard Bonville. Or rather—Rhonda and I became involved with him because Dags had joined the man's circle of spooky friends. We learned that Dags had received magical tattoos on his hands and could summon a weird light that blasted out shadows.
That little side adventure had nearly cost him his life when Bonville dragged him physically through the Abysmal plane. He'd died briefly in the hospital later— and been revived.
By me.
I admit the events were a bit hazy—and before now I'd been a little uncertain with him even when he'd come to the hospital with Joe to see me.
But that didn't stop me from grabbing him up and hugging him as tightly as I could despite the screaming pain in my shoulder. I also couldn't stop the embarrassing flood of tears that spilled over my cheeks and nose. It'd been so long since I'd had any real contact, especially with anyone I considered a friend— my mom was always a big hugger. And I'd gotten so used to Daniel's smile . . .
"Hey, hey, hey," Dags said as he pulled away but didn't let go. He kept his right hand in my left one and wiped at my tears with his left. "Shhh . . . take a deep breath."
I nodded and did what he asked—though it was hard. I was afraid I'd do that hiccuping crying I used to do when I was a kid— the big cry that usually put me out for a good couple of hours.
Watching him—I was amazed at how much he'd changed in just a month. No wonder I hadn't recognized him.
For starters, his ponytail was gone. He'd cut the back off pretty short though I noticed strands of hair that hugged his neck, but the top and sides looked more like he'd just rolled out of bed. And he had sideburns. His face seemed older somehow—as if he'd grown up in a short amount of time. And his eyes . . .
There was something different about his eyes. Had they been like this that day in the hospital when he coded? I couldn't remember no matter how hard I tried. There were so many other problems back then— I'd sort of dismissed him as being a sort of side character.
"Let me do something about that shoulder." He put his hands together, palms facing each other kinda like he was praying. Abruptly, a soft white light leaked out from between the two of them.
That's when I remembered the tattoos on his palms. I'd completely forgotten about them.
He reached out with his left hand— palm glowing, and I could just make out the circles— were they spinning? He held it over my shoulder. Then he held out his right hand, palm facing down, and the light shone through the hardwood of the floor. My shoulder stung, and I winced.
"Be as still as possible," Dags said in a very deep but firm voice.
I did as he said. And within seconds the pain vanished. He sat back and rubbed his hands together. I looked at my shoulder. My jacket was still burned— but my shoulder was—
*How'd you do that? * I turned and looked at him. I'd seen him use the light from those tattoos to banish the oogy from dark corners— namely Shadow People. But— I'd never seen him use it for healing.
"A lot's happened in the past month."
*I'll say.*
His hand was on my forehead again. "Jemmy's right, Zoë. You feel okay? You're very warm."
I nodded and closed my eyes. I knew I had a fever—felt the heat in my eyelids. But I was afraid I'd been fighting off a cold for over a week. *I'm fine. I just— Thanks for coming in when you did.*
Dags frowned at first, then nodded. We discovered pretty early on that Dags could hear me, but not like Joe had. For Dags, communication with me was more like images in his head. And he sometimes had to interpret what he saw to understand what I was saying.
"Hey, Jemmy?"
"What's wrong?" Jemmy came out of the botanica, a broom and a black candle in her hands.
"Do you know where a thermometer is? I think you're right— Zoë's sick."
"Well, I wouldn't be surprised. Especially with the smell in here. But I know where Nona keeps them. You stay here." She set the broom down and ambled off.
He released my arm and turned to pick up the now-cooled cup of tea. "You drink this and tell me what the hell you were doing opening a doorway."
I took the tea and sipped it. It was sweet, and I recognized hibiscus, as well as something else in there that was familiar. *You know what's happened? *
He nodded. "Most of it. I've been up to see Nona myself. Archer— you call him TC— was the one that took her soul?"
*Yeah— but how could you know what's happened? I haven't seen you— or spoken to you. And your phone's been disconnected. Even Jamael didn't know where you'd gone.*
He smirked. I didn't like it much. Reminded me too much of Joe. "I have my sources. And like I said—I've got most of it. TC's never contacted you?"
*No. And I thought that he'd eventually contact me somehow—threaten me with a ransom or something. I mean, why else take my mom's soul, right? I sighed. I'm doing this by myself—I've always had Mom and Rhonda to tell me what to do. You know, what something means, how I use it, what's wrong with it. But I've been alone at this— and I finally decided I needed to just open a door to the Abysmal and go get her myself. *
Dags pursed his lips and nodded slowly. "You know traveling through the Abysmal in a physical body can kill you."
*No shit. *
"Why magic? That's not really your forte, is it? Something wrong with just going OOB and stepping into the Abysmal?" He nodded to the botanica. "Instead of trying to burn yourself?"
And here it was— the truth. I didn't want to tell him. I didn't want to face his sympathy either.
But Dags was a smart guy, and he was watching my face. He tucked a finger under my chin and looked into my eyes. "What is it, Zoë?"
I blinked back tears again— because I knew I was going to have to admit to something I didn't want to. *It's because I can't go OOB anymore, Dags. I'm no longer a Wraith. *
**The newest in a series that's "part paranormal whodunit, part urban fantasy"(*Publishers Weekly*) by the author of *Wraith* and *Spectre*.**
Just when Zoë Martinique, formerly ordinary twenty-something, was getting used to the idea that she was possessed of extraordinary powers, she lost them. Without cause or warning. And at the worst possible time.
Now, unless she can figure out how to go Wraith again, she won't be able to rescue her mother, whose soul is trapped on the Abysmal plane.
Her only hope is to join forces with an old enemy, who has his own dark reasons for helping her. From him she learns that only a traumatic experience can bring the Wraith back. To get out-of-body, Zoë will have to look for big, dangerous trouble-and fast.
For there is a deadly and powerful being within the Abysmal that wishes Zoë never existed...and it's coming for her.
**
### About the Author
Phaedra Weldon was born in Florida and attended Georgia Southern University from where she launched a career in the graphics arts field. She began writing at the age of 10, reworking the endings of her favorite television shows, especially such classic favorites as Scooby Doo. She has had short fiction published in a number of anthologies and online sites. She lives with her husband and daughter in Atlanta, Georgia.
### Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
**March 21, late night**
I suck at magic.
Had no idea what I was doing.
Which was probably why I found myself looking at a six-foot purple flame burning an astral hole in my mom's living room. Earlier I'd pulled the rug back to reveal the huge pentagram painted on the wood floor beneath. The big *Book of Everything* lay open on the papasan chair, turned to a page I evidently had no business reading, and I was pretty much trapped between the flame and the fireplace.
Screaming seemed the appropriate thing to do—so I did.
Only—no one could hear me.
My name's Zoë. Martinique. And in the span of two weeks, I had lost my mother's soul, banished my best friend from my life, scared the crap out of my cop boyfriend, experienced crazy erotic dreams about another cop in whom I spent some recoup time (hey—clean thoughts here!), learned I was being stalked by two secret societies, as well as possibly damned my soul for all eternity.
Oh—and the cherry—my great-uncle was responsible for it all.
Period.
All of these things combined have proven one thing to me—I am the winner in the world's most-dysfunctional-family contest.
Top that! Ha!
Oh, and I'm mute. Not deaf. Though some people tended to think those two were synonymous, so when they discovered I couldn't talk, they started shouting at me really slow.
Idiots.
Though that word pretty much applied to me at that moment, as I attempted again to get around the flame. But if I tried to move to the right and jump on the couch, the damned thing moved with me. If I tried to fake it and jump to the left, it matched me again. And forget going *through * it. I'd already tried that and had one hell of a burn working along my right shoulder where the flame touched me. My jacket was still smoking. I had to face it— the flame was stalking *me*. Literally pushing me up against the fireplace.
Just as I was about to see if a human could climb up a chimney, I heard the bell over the front door chime, as well as felt the vibration on the hardwood floor. Seeing past the flame was getting difficult—I could make out the arch between the botanica where I was pinned, and the tea shop where the front door was. A beaded curtain usually separated the two stores—but I'd taken the damned thing down. Got tired of seeing it move with a breeze and thinking someone was in the house. Don't ask me where that breeze was coming from—I had no idea. I'd been jumpy—and with good reason. Knowing complete strangers were watching me was worse than *not * knowing. As I pressed myself against the mantel of the fireplace, I heard someone call my name, and I screamed out—both with my silent vocal cords as well as my thoughts. *What the hell are you doing? * came the voice in my mind. It was a male voice— but it wasn't Joe's. Whoever it was could hear my thoughts. So—I must have overshadowed (slipped inside of their body— kinda like possession but not really— at least not to me) them at some point. Unless it was a ghost?
Speaking of ghosts—where were Tim and Steve? Wasn't there something they could do? Oh—Tim and Steve were the resident ghosts of Mom's combo of house and shop (half botanica and half tea shop)—a couple who died in the basement. Pretty gruesome. Now's not the time to elaborate.
*Zoë? You there? *
Well, whoever it was *knew * me, and I could *hear * them.
*Hang on! *
I was hanging on. To the mantel. Two more inches and this thing was going to roast me alive!
A light brighter than the fire nearly blinded me, and I squinted, then looked away with my hand up in front of me. I was expecting to get singed any second—and let's not even talk about how bad my shoulder was hurting where the fire had touched it before.
And then the light against my eyelids dimmed to nothing, leaving me extremely cold.
A warm hand touched my cheek, and I jumped— I would have squeaked if I could— and there was the familiar voice again. I was blinking as fast as I could, but it was like looking too long into the center of a lightbulb, then looking away— I couldn't make out what was in front of me.
Not immediately.
". . . Zoë? Hey . . . look at me. You okay? Did the Portal Fire touch you?"
I blinked again. I could make out an outline. Definitely male. Close to my height. Short, tousled hair, and warm hands.
*J-Joe? *
There was a soft laugh. "No. Not hardly. You didn't look *into * the flame, did you?"
I paused.
There was a sigh. "Zoë . . ." It was more of a drawn-out whine than my name. Though I'd never noticed how well my name translated into a whine till that moment.
I shrugged. He put his hands on my wrist, then my shoulder, and guided me away from the fireplace and into the brighter light of the tea shop. Once there, I blinked even faster as I bumped into the table closest to the arch.
"Christ— you got singed! That shoulder looks bad. Sit down over here. I'll make you a calming tea and then get to work on the damage, okay?"
I could see the table and the chair easily enough, and I sat down. I hadn't realized I was shaking. Not just from nerves—mainly because I'd just nearly barbecued my ass— but because I was actually chilled. I could see the guy moving around in the kitchen, behind the cake-and-pie display. I could even see the display case pretty good.
*Why can't I see this person? Why isn't his voice registering with me? Did that flame burn out brain cells? *
Hey— no comments.
My shoulder started throbbing— each heartbeat feeding the stinging pain— so I reached around with my left hand and pulled my right arm closer to my chest. Ow, ow, ow. I felt a vibration on the floor and knew someone was at the back door before the lock turned and the hinges squeaked. From the sound of the shuffle, I knew it was the neighbor and Mom's friend, Jemmy Shultz.
"Hey, Jemmy!" the stranger called out.
"Well, I'll be!" came her comforting and familiar Southern drawl. She was laughing, and I could actually see her! Ah! Why could I see Jemmy just fine and not this other guy? Was he some sort of new, freaky Symbiont, Daimon, Abysmal thingie?
Oh God . . . is it TC? No . . . he has my voice . . . not a melodic man's voice.
I could hear backslapping and laughing. "Child—where have you been keeping yourself? It's been a coon's age since I saw you around here."
"Eh . . . here and there. Been a little busy since that little mess back in December. I was here briefly in January before things got crazy for me again. Heard what happened to Nona and came to see Zoë as soon as I could."
"Yeah," Jemmy said. "I just got back from my daily visit'n. Not sure I'm so comfortable with Nona being all quiet like that. Just staring at the ceiling."
My mom was soulless, lying in a bed at a long-term facility in Alpharetta called Miller Oaks. Sounded more like a mortuary to me. I knew why she was in a coma, and so did Jemmy. The doctors? Not so much. It was getting more and more expensive to keep her there, and I'd already moved into the shop and given up my apartment in midtown. Medicare and Medicaid only covered so much before the cost bled over into my mom's estate.
And I was not letting them touch her shop. They could drain my accounts before taking what she'd worked long and hard for. But I was about to hit rock bottom with the money—and I still hadn't found Mom's soul.
"Yeah . . . but what is that smell?"
"Burned magic," mystery man said.
I noticed she was coming toward me, and I waved. Her shuffle sped up, and the next thing I knew her cold hand was on my forehead, then she was touching my neck, my wrist.
*Uh . . . hello? Who's that in the kitchen? *
Too bad Jemmy couldn't hear me.
"Zoë!" Her hands were on my shoulder, and I hissed air. "What you been doing? How did you burn yourself up there? Oh my," she made a "tsk-tsk" noise. "That's gonna need some special care." She placed her cool hand on my forehead again. "You feel really warm. What's wrong with the botanica? It's all hazy and nasty."
"Coyote Flame," came the male voice. He came back to the table with something in his hand. Jemmy moved out of the way, and he pulled up a chair, the metal scraping on the wood floor.
"Apparently our little Wraith here decided to do magic."
"Oh noah," Jemmy said, and moved into the botanica.
"What were you trying to do, Zoë? You know magic's best left to those who can do it. Your momma's one of the best." She sighed and put her hands on her hips. I was looking at her back, then looking at the blurry guy beside me. "Well, there's bandages and rubb'n alcohol on the top shelf in the pantry."
"I won't need it."
"Oh? You got a bit more in those—"
There was a low laugh and whispering. And I could see Jemmy chuckling. And then he answered. "You could say that."
"Well then, you get Zoë all better, and I start cleaning and cleansing. I swear . . ." And she toddled off.
My attention focused on Blurry Dude. He put a hand on my forehead too, only his touch was still as warm as it had been before. And then he put his hand over my eyes.
*Why can't I see you? *
"Because of the burn. The Coyote Flame touched your skin—and you looked into its heart. Its purpose when summoned is to protect the Portal from intruders. Causes loss of sight, breath, illness, and eventually death."
*Death? *
He made a heavy sigh. "This would have worked if you'd been OOB, Zoë. Why in the hell aren't you out of body? If you want to build a gate, just do it—the Coyote Flame is for magicians who can't walk astrally, not Wraiths."
I suppressed the urge to reach out and pop this person in the face. *Well, nobody told me that*. He laughed again. "It's okay. I can fix it."
I rubbed at my eyes and tried to see him. It was like one of those weird films where everything's in black-and-white except for the main focus. Only everybody else was sharp, and he was blurry. It was just damned intolerable.
Mental note: *never look into the purple flame*.
"You don't recognize me, do you?"
*Uh . . . Can you give me a multiple choice?*
"You and I traveled through a similar door back in December," he said as he put his hand over my eyes. This time his hand turned cold, and it was like ice against my forehead. I winced—just a bit scared this was gonna turn into brain freeze. "Remember Allard Bonville? He pulled us through the door, but he was more experienced, so the Coyote Flame didn't try to prevent us from traveling. It's sort of a guardian against amateurs—only with a bit more danger."
Bonville. Shadow door.
*. . . little mess back in December . . . *
*
. . . was here briefly in January . . .?
*
This guy was talking about that little Shadow People incident I'd run into with Rhonda and—
He moved his hand away from my eyes. I blinked once, and his face came into sharp focus.
DAGS!
Dags winced, closing his left eye. "Yow—you need to dial down the astral yelling, lady."
I stared at him, taking in every inch of him. I hadn't seen Dags since he'd brought me coffee in the hospital that day when Joseph vanished, his tether to the physical world severed. Dags had disappeared not long after. I'd tried calling him in the two weeks since I somehow released Holmes in the warehouse, but his number had been disconnected.
It'd been over a month since I'd seen him— and he'd changed so much in that time. Something about him was different—physically as well as astrally.
Before Christmas—a week or so after Hirokumi was killed and Susan was saved—and of course I made the deal with TC to become the Wraith again—Dags, Rhonda, and I became involved with a Ceremonial Magician named Allard Bonville. Or rather—Rhonda and I became involved with him because Dags had joined the man's circle of spooky friends. We learned that Dags had received magical tattoos on his hands and could summon a weird light that blasted out shadows.
That little side adventure had nearly cost him his life when Bonville dragged him physically through the Abysmal plane. He'd died briefly in the hospital later— and been revived.
By me.
I admit the events were a bit hazy—and before now I'd been a little uncertain with him even when he'd come to the hospital with Joe to see me.
But that didn't stop me from grabbing him up and hugging him as tightly as I could despite the screaming pain in my shoulder. I also couldn't stop the embarrassing flood of tears that spilled over my cheeks and nose. It'd been so long since I'd had any real contact, especially with anyone I considered a friend— my mom was always a big hugger. And I'd gotten so used to Daniel's smile . . .
"Hey, hey, hey," Dags said as he pulled away but didn't let go. He kept his right hand in my left one and wiped at my tears with his left. "Shhh . . . take a deep breath."
I nodded and did what he asked—though it was hard. I was afraid I'd do that hiccuping crying I used to do when I was a kid— the big cry that usually put me out for a good couple of hours.
Watching him—I was amazed at how much he'd changed in just a month. No wonder I hadn't recognized him.
For starters, his ponytail was gone. He'd cut the back off pretty short though I noticed strands of hair that hugged his neck, but the top and sides looked more like he'd just rolled out of bed. And he had sideburns. His face seemed older somehow—as if he'd grown up in a short amount of time. And his eyes . . .
There was something different about his eyes. Had they been like this that day in the hospital when he coded? I couldn't remember no matter how hard I tried. There were so many other problems back then— I'd sort of dismissed him as being a sort of side character.
"Let me do something about that shoulder." He put his hands together, palms facing each other kinda like he was praying. Abruptly, a soft white light leaked out from between the two of them.
That's when I remembered the tattoos on his palms. I'd completely forgotten about them.
He reached out with his left hand— palm glowing, and I could just make out the circles— were they spinning? He held it over my shoulder. Then he held out his right hand, palm facing down, and the light shone through the hardwood of the floor. My shoulder stung, and I winced.
"Be as still as possible," Dags said in a very deep but firm voice.
I did as he said. And within seconds the pain vanished. He sat back and rubbed his hands together. I looked at my shoulder. My jacket was still burned— but my shoulder was—
*How'd you do that? * I turned and looked at him. I'd seen him use the light from those tattoos to banish the oogy from dark corners— namely Shadow People. But— I'd never seen him use it for healing.
"A lot's happened in the past month."
*I'll say.*
His hand was on my forehead again. "Jemmy's right, Zoë. You feel okay? You're very warm."
I nodded and closed my eyes. I knew I had a fever—felt the heat in my eyelids. But I was afraid I'd been fighting off a cold for over a week. *I'm fine. I just— Thanks for coming in when you did.*
Dags frowned at first, then nodded. We discovered pretty early on that Dags could hear me, but not like Joe had. For Dags, communication with me was more like images in his head. And he sometimes had to interpret what he saw to understand what I was saying.
"Hey, Jemmy?"
"What's wrong?" Jemmy came out of the botanica, a broom and a black candle in her hands.
"Do you know where a thermometer is? I think you're right— Zoë's sick."
"Well, I wouldn't be surprised. Especially with the smell in here. But I know where Nona keeps them. You stay here." She set the broom down and ambled off.
He released my arm and turned to pick up the now-cooled cup of tea. "You drink this and tell me what the hell you were doing opening a doorway."
I took the tea and sipped it. It was sweet, and I recognized hibiscus, as well as something else in there that was familiar. *You know what's happened? *
He nodded. "Most of it. I've been up to see Nona myself. Archer— you call him TC— was the one that took her soul?"
*Yeah— but how could you know what's happened? I haven't seen you— or spoken to you. And your phone's been disconnected. Even Jamael didn't know where you'd gone.*
He smirked. I didn't like it much. Reminded me too much of Joe. "I have my sources. And like I said—I've got most of it. TC's never contacted you?"
*No. And I thought that he'd eventually contact me somehow—threaten me with a ransom or something. I mean, why else take my mom's soul, right? I sighed. I'm doing this by myself—I've always had Mom and Rhonda to tell me what to do. You know, what something means, how I use it, what's wrong with it. But I've been alone at this— and I finally decided I needed to just open a door to the Abysmal and go get her myself. *
Dags pursed his lips and nodded slowly. "You know traveling through the Abysmal in a physical body can kill you."
*No shit. *
"Why magic? That's not really your forte, is it? Something wrong with just going OOB and stepping into the Abysmal?" He nodded to the botanica. "Instead of trying to burn yourself?"
And here it was— the truth. I didn't want to tell him. I didn't want to face his sympathy either.
But Dags was a smart guy, and he was watching my face. He tucked a finger under my chin and looked into my eyes. "What is it, Zoë?"
I blinked back tears again— because I knew I was going to have to admit to something I didn't want to. *It's because I can't go OOB anymore, Dags. I'm no longer a Wraith. *
January 30, 2010
Zoe starts out this book dealing with the repercussions of Daniel finding out about her ability and not being able to handle it along with her mother's soul being stolen, and her best friend's betrayal. With things like this it seems like there is no place to go but up, unfortunately when that is your thinking you have doomed yourself to worse things happening.
Through the book Zoe is forced to face truths about herself, her heritage, her family, and her friends that change everything. She is constantly fighting for those she loves even if they don't believe in her any more. Her decisions aren't always smart ones as she does things that seem like a great idea at the time, but come back to bite her later, with losses even greater in the end.
Through the book Zoe is forced to face truths about herself, her heritage, her family, and her friends that change everything. She is constantly fighting for those she loves even if they don't believe in her any more. Her decisions aren't always smart ones as she does things that seem like a great idea at the time, but come back to bite her later, with losses even greater in the end.
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December 20, 2020I've been puttering along, enjoying this series bit by bit, until I bit into Phantasm. I found it confusing, with many twists inserted into the plot, for no apparent reason, and it turned into a bit of soap opera.
For example, Zoe has had a serious relationship building with Detective Daniel for the first two books, but he got seriously freaked out at the end of Spectre when he saw her, in her Wraith incarnation, releasing the ghost of a murdered policeman. Instead of dealing with this in a constructive fashion, Zoe and Daniel don't communicate at all, and she flirts with former undercover cop, Joe, who is a bit more sanguine about the supernatural, and then ends up having wild monkey sex with Dags (Darren) after a death-defying battle scene. Joe and Rhonda are apparently living (and sleeping?) together, but Rhonda has been in love with Dags all along, and Zoe's impulsive behavior sends all of the gang's personal relationships into a death spiral.
Various factions within the spiritual community are constantly trying to kill, capture, suborn, or influence Zoe in one way or another, and her erstwhile enemies become allies, for a time, then enemies again...It's just too much crazy stuff going on for me to follow.
Near the end, when Daniel has been driven insane by being overshadowed by The Horror (the main bogey man in this book), he ends up killing his supervisor in a street shootout, though Zoe was his real target, as he's become convinced that she's the devil incarnate. At that point, Zoe and TC (the spirit entity that's caused her so much grief from the beginning) team up to wipe Daniel's memories, so he will no longer remember what she has done. If they could do this, why didn't they do it right after they found out he was confined in a mental institution for his paranoia? Too much semi-convenient discovery of new abilities.
Deeply flawed, it leaves me wondering whether I'll bother reading the next book, Revenant.
For example, Zoe has had a serious relationship building with Detective Daniel for the first two books, but he got seriously freaked out at the end of Spectre when he saw her, in her Wraith incarnation, releasing the ghost of a murdered policeman. Instead of dealing with this in a constructive fashion, Zoe and Daniel don't communicate at all, and she flirts with former undercover cop, Joe, who is a bit more sanguine about the supernatural, and then ends up having wild monkey sex with Dags (Darren) after a death-defying battle scene. Joe and Rhonda are apparently living (and sleeping?) together, but Rhonda has been in love with Dags all along, and Zoe's impulsive behavior sends all of the gang's personal relationships into a death spiral.
Various factions within the spiritual community are constantly trying to kill, capture, suborn, or influence Zoe in one way or another, and her erstwhile enemies become allies, for a time, then enemies again...It's just too much crazy stuff going on for me to follow.
Near the end, when Daniel has been driven insane by being overshadowed by The Horror (the main bogey man in this book), he ends up killing his supervisor in a street shootout, though Zoe was his real target, as he's become convinced that she's the devil incarnate. At that point, Zoe and TC (the spirit entity that's caused her so much grief from the beginning) team up to wipe Daniel's memories, so he will no longer remember what she has done. If they could do this, why didn't they do it right after they found out he was confined in a mental institution for his paranoia? Too much semi-convenient discovery of new abilities.
Deeply flawed, it leaves me wondering whether I'll bother reading the next book, Revenant.
October 4, 2020
Just when you think it can't be any weirder or more trouble for Zoe, it gets weirder and she gets into more trouble. This book resolves a few issues and creates more. Oh, and the Phantasm is still out there for sure. The boyfriend bounce takes another twist and is far from resolved. As a reader of another Phaedra Weldon series, it was good to get the background on Dags and the book (as the book?), but still unsure how that's going to resolve itself between Rhonda and Zoe. Basically, if you're looking for resolution, you're a few books too early, but it's another wild ride and very entertaining.
June 14, 2017
Phaedra Weldon has several Great series
You really need to check this author out. Her writing style is great for those who like action, strong characters, laughter, and a smidgen of romance.
You really need to check this author out. Her writing style is great for those who like action, strong characters, laughter, and a smidgen of romance.
June 24, 2021
Good sequel to the first two books, but be forewarned that reading the first two is almost essential to figure out what is going on. Enjoyed it!
July 24, 2012
Book Info: Genre: Urban Fantasy Reading Level: Adult
Disclosure: I received the final book in this series, as well as the omnibus containing several short stories in this series, from the author in exchange for an honest review. I am happy to review this earlier book in the series as well, as long as I’m reading it!
Synopsis: Just when Zoë Martinique, formerly ordinary twenty-something, was getting used to the idea that she was possessed of extraordinary powers, she lost them. Without cause or warning. And at the worst possible time.
Now, unless she can figure out how to go Wraith again, she won't be able to rescue her mother, whose soul is trapped on the Abysmal plane.
Her only hope is to join forces with an old enemy, who has his own dark reasons for helping her. From him she learns that only a traumatic experience can bring the Wraith back. To get out-of-body, Zoë will have to look for big, dangerous trouble – and fast.
For there is a deadly and powerful being within the Abysmal that wishes Zoë never existed...and it's coming for her.
My Thoughts: This is book three on the Zoë Martinique series, following Spectre. Things became very dark in the previous book, after being fairly light-hearted in the first. Unfortunately, this does not ease up, and things just keep doing to the dark side as fast as possible.
Ah-hah, the issue with Dags’ last name is explained in this book, so that’s good. SPRITE again takes a center stage, and poor Randall just can’t get a break. Ms. Weldon, what do you have against Randall? You’re so mean to him!
My frustration with Zoë rises in this book, what with – apparently – every man she meets falling in love with her and she’s still stuck on Mr. Pretty Boy. Dags is the perfect man for her, and even Joe would be a good match - I mean, come on, why not just start a small harem? She had the libido to deal with more than one man, easily. But she refuses to even consider this very logical idea. Again I address the author: hey, why not just hook Zoë up with all of them? Let’s get some polyamory going in this series! *smirk*
But seriously, I did want to smack her over the whole Daniel/Dags/Joe thing, but she is in a tough situation. The heart wants what the heart wants, and there isn’t a lot we can do about it. At least this situation isn’t your typical love triangle set-up.
We finally get a lot of questions answered in this book, so there is that huge pay-off finally, but of course, plenty are left unanswered, and I’ll continuing on with book 4, Revenant in just a bit. Again I recommend these books for the fan of Urban Fantasy.
Disclosure: I received the final book in this series, as well as the omnibus containing several short stories in this series, from the author in exchange for an honest review. I am happy to review this earlier book in the series as well, as long as I’m reading it!
Synopsis: Just when Zoë Martinique, formerly ordinary twenty-something, was getting used to the idea that she was possessed of extraordinary powers, she lost them. Without cause or warning. And at the worst possible time.
Now, unless she can figure out how to go Wraith again, she won't be able to rescue her mother, whose soul is trapped on the Abysmal plane.
Her only hope is to join forces with an old enemy, who has his own dark reasons for helping her. From him she learns that only a traumatic experience can bring the Wraith back. To get out-of-body, Zoë will have to look for big, dangerous trouble – and fast.
For there is a deadly and powerful being within the Abysmal that wishes Zoë never existed...and it's coming for her.
My Thoughts: This is book three on the Zoë Martinique series, following Spectre. Things became very dark in the previous book, after being fairly light-hearted in the first. Unfortunately, this does not ease up, and things just keep doing to the dark side as fast as possible.
Ah-hah, the issue with Dags’ last name is explained in this book, so that’s good. SPRITE again takes a center stage, and poor Randall just can’t get a break. Ms. Weldon, what do you have against Randall? You’re so mean to him!
My frustration with Zoë rises in this book, what with – apparently – every man she meets falling in love with her and she’s still stuck on Mr. Pretty Boy. Dags is the perfect man for her, and even Joe would be a good match - I mean, come on, why not just start a small harem? She had the libido to deal with more than one man, easily. But she refuses to even consider this very logical idea. Again I address the author: hey, why not just hook Zoë up with all of them? Let’s get some polyamory going in this series! *smirk*
But seriously, I did want to smack her over the whole Daniel/Dags/Joe thing, but she is in a tough situation. The heart wants what the heart wants, and there isn’t a lot we can do about it. At least this situation isn’t your typical love triangle set-up.
We finally get a lot of questions answered in this book, so there is that huge pay-off finally, but of course, plenty are left unanswered, and I’ll continuing on with book 4, Revenant in just a bit. Again I recommend these books for the fan of Urban Fantasy.
July 14, 2015
Unfortunately this series is so complicated and convoluted that you really need to read them one after the other just to keep track of who is who and what is happening. That being said, I read book 2 a year ago and remembered the gist of what happened and I was still lost for the first 50 pages or so. The writing seemed choppy and inconsistent somehow. Things just didn't seem to flow from chapter to chapter. Almost like it was edited improperly.
Zoe is a scatterbrained, twenty something who acts and talks like a teenager. Sammiches. Really? And what is with her always wanting her mommy? Honestly I can't remember asking for my mommy since I was 12 or 13. The only good thing about this book was that there were very few "mental comments" as in previous books but I guess that was because she lost her powers. Though what that has to do with anything I really can't guess. Anyway it made for a much better flow except that it didn't really flow well anyway so maybe it wasn't these mental farts that kept pulling me out of the story after all.
I have the fourth so I will continue the series since I really do like the characters ~ Dags, Joe and mommy. Honestly Zoe needs to grew the hell up if she's going to be running in this world and surviving. Right now, her survival has been accidental but seriously how long can that continue and still be believable?
Zoe is a scatterbrained, twenty something who acts and talks like a teenager. Sammiches. Really? And what is with her always wanting her mommy? Honestly I can't remember asking for my mommy since I was 12 or 13. The only good thing about this book was that there were very few "mental comments" as in previous books but I guess that was because she lost her powers. Though what that has to do with anything I really can't guess. Anyway it made for a much better flow except that it didn't really flow well anyway so maybe it wasn't these mental farts that kept pulling me out of the story after all.
I have the fourth so I will continue the series since I really do like the characters ~ Dags, Joe and mommy. Honestly Zoe needs to grew the hell up if she's going to be running in this world and surviving. Right now, her survival has been accidental but seriously how long can that continue and still be believable?
March 5, 2011
These books...I honestly do not know what to think about them. Or why I keep reading them when they frustrate me so.
I had many of the same problems with this book as I had with the previous two in the series: scenes written in a confusing manner, characters I can't connect with, use of cutesy words in otherwise serious situations (sammiches, really?), etc. The author could also do a bit better job with the recaps of events from earlier books, because I'd read them and was still confused at certain points. I can only imagine how someone who'd not yet read the previous books would feel trying to figure out what was going on.
But...with all that being said, this book was better than the previous two. I found that I was more engaged in the story this time and that the things listed above didn't seem to throw me out of the story as badly as in the previous books.
I still can't say I actually like Zoe as a character, but I did find her more sympathetic in this book than in previous ones.
I will probably continue on to the next book in the series sometime soon.
I had many of the same problems with this book as I had with the previous two in the series: scenes written in a confusing manner, characters I can't connect with, use of cutesy words in otherwise serious situations (sammiches, really?), etc. The author could also do a bit better job with the recaps of events from earlier books, because I'd read them and was still confused at certain points. I can only imagine how someone who'd not yet read the previous books would feel trying to figure out what was going on.
But...with all that being said, this book was better than the previous two. I found that I was more engaged in the story this time and that the things listed above didn't seem to throw me out of the story as badly as in the previous books.
I still can't say I actually like Zoe as a character, but I did find her more sympathetic in this book than in previous ones.
I will probably continue on to the next book in the series sometime soon.
September 30, 2009
I found this book to be a bit confusing, and I had read the first two! I guess it had been a while, though, as it took me a bit to remember how Zoe had gotten into her current predicament. I find Zoe likable, if a bit luckless, and she does have a relatively unique skill, compared to other urban fantasies. Still, all the demons run together after a while, so a little bit more of a recap would've helped me sort things out sooner! I miss her best friend, and hope they can patch things up (hope that's not too spoiler-y), and I do look forward to the next book, which is on my to-read shelf right now...
March 18, 2011
I honestly did not enjoy this book. I kept going hoping for something to click. The main character Zoe is horrible. I can't tell her age. She acts like a preteen with some cussing and "mommy" thrown in. Later in the book there is a remark about her being in her 20s! Wow, no way! I felt NO connection to any character in the book. The plot was so confusing that I couldn't at any point figure out what was happening.
Maybe someone else will feel a connection. So off to the resale shop the book goes.
Maybe someone else will feel a connection. So off to the resale shop the book goes.
April 2, 2015
After the Spectre this is disappointing. It feels like with every book the rules to which the setting adheres to are changed. Instead of picking up where the previous book left off and answering the questions that weren't answered in it, an entirely new plotline is conjured up with little to no glue to piece not just the books together but the universe itself. I'm dragging myself to finish this. Absolutely not what I was expecting after book 2.
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September 4, 2013I started this book and gave up after 100 pages. I had read previous books in the series and enjoyed them enough to buy the next few, but it has been a while since I read the previous ones. So I don't know if my tastes changed or the book was just not up to par- but I got sick of the whining (give me back my mother's soul!) and repetitive dialogue.
August 26, 2012
Third in a series. Enjoyable, but a few problems; it follows immediately after its predecessor, in the same scene, so it's a little jarring if it's been a while since you've read the predecessor. Also, an urban fantasy, and it seems like they keep piling on boojums and snarks, so it gets a little tough to keep straight. Still, fairly enjoyable if it's the sort of thing you enjoy.
May 26, 2010
A lot happened that didn't get explained until the end. WHich was more confusing then not explaining it at all. Otherwise it was really great with lots of action. I really hope Zoe finally makes the right decision in the next book.
August 24, 2009
Zoe is such an interesting person and lives such a complicated life. Even though this is her third adventure, but the first I had read, I was so completely engrossed in the story that I could not stop reading. Eventually I was able to make sense of the intricate plot and multiple characters...
April 29, 2010
Zoe is kind of scatterbrained and not very good at recaps, so you would really need to read the previous book again before this one. Since I didn't, I found it confusing and annoying. Also slow-moving.
March 16, 2011
I really did not like how this book threw in a lot of backstory until I realized the series had short stories or "half" books that my library doesn't own. Ack! I'm starting to understand things now, but I think the series is starting to push the limit on how many ghoulies can be in one series.
December 18, 2012
I had a hard time trying to catch up on what was happening..
1 girl, 3 guys? I think that's too much. Most of the things that happened were all because of Zoe and her mistakes.
This is the third book..but i'm no quitter. I'll continue with book 4 too see what happens to Dags. Yes, for Dags only.
1 girl, 3 guys? I think that's too much. Most of the things that happened were all because of Zoe and her mistakes.
This is the third book..but i'm no quitter. I'll continue with book 4 too see what happens to Dags. Yes, for Dags only.
December 22, 2009
Interesting premise, and the series is entertaining enough - starting to see some of the bigger mythos here too. May just be getting burned out on too many of these urban fantasy series.
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January 9, 2010Amazon preorder
December 19, 2010
As Zoe changes the story gets more intense. I liked it very much could not put it down. I can't wait to see what will happen next.
April 10, 2011
Great addition to an already fun and interesting series! Can't wait for the next one.
September 21, 2011
I think this was my fav so far. Turning out to be a great series.
Took me longer to read this...been a busy month.
Took me longer to read this...been a busy month.
September 4, 2012
This one just didn't hold my attention as well as the other books. May have been because I waited too long to read it.
January 8, 2012
Was not very good. Seemed choppy and inconsistant.I made myself finish,because,I purchased this book.
November 12, 2015
A fun read, kept me interested to find out how the plot would develop. Characters engaging, but plot was a bit "juddery" and kept popping me out of the flow when it hiccupped.
December 15, 2016
I love Phaedra's books, but I was lost for a good portion of this one. Turns out I should have read Grimoire beforehand, but it's not even considered part of the series. So frustrating!
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