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At the start of this heart-pounding new installment of the bestselling House of Night series, Zoey's friends have her back again and Stevie Rae and the red fledglings aren't Neferet's secrets any longer. But an unexpected danger has emerged. Neferet guards her powerful new consort, Kalona, and no one at the House of Night seems to understand the threat he poses. Kalona looks gorgeous, and he has the House of Night under his spell. A past life holds the key to breaking his rapidly spreading influence, but what if this past life shows Zoey secrets she doesn't want to hear and truths she can't face?
On the run and holed up in Tulsa's Prohibition-era tunnels, Zoey and her gang must discover a way to deal with something that might bring them all down. Meanwhile, Zoey has a few other little problems. The red fledglings have cleaned up well--they've even managed to make the dark, creepy tunnels feel more like home--but are they really as friendly as they seem? On the boyfriend front, Zoey has a chance to make things right with super-hot ex-, Eric, but she can't stop thinking about Stark, the archer who died in her arms after one unforgettable night, and she is driven to try to save him from Neferet's sinister influence at all costs. Will anyone believe the power evil has to hide among us?
An Interview with P.C. CastWhy vampyres? What was intriguing to you about them? (Also, why "y"?)
P.C. Actually, the idea for the series originated with my fabulous agent, Meredith Bernstein. We were at RWA [Romance Writers of America] Nationals in Reno several years ago and Meredith said she had an idea for a series she'd like to see me write. Then she said the three magic vampire finishing school. I instantly thought of YA because I'd been reading the Hawksong books by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes--so my head was already in YA. Also, I've been teaching high school English since 1993 (I'm from a family of teachers) so I definitely knew my audience. Basically, it sounded like fun to write, so I jumped in even though I'd only written fantasy and paranormal romance up until then.
Oh, and the spelling is just my choice 'cause I like the way it looks![image]
I don't want to draw too many comparisons between your series and Twilight, because they are completely different types of stories. However, I am curious if the popularity of that series has changed the way you see your genre, or do you even see it being the same genre?
I see my genre as YA, and to me that encompasses everyone from Rowling to Laurie Halse Anderson to Janice Erlbaum. So, yes, Twilight fits in the same genre. And while I enjoy Ms. Meyer's books very much, I think the genre has been growing and changing and gaining popularity steadily over the past decade--mostly thanks to Ms. Rowling! As a high school English teacher I certainly noticed the increase in sophistication and popularity of the genre some time ago. Today's YA has an incredible range and depth, and it deals with real coming of age issues in varied and interesting ways. I'm proud to be a member of the ranks of YA authors!
Can you talk a little bit about the role that religion plays in the novels? The whole series revolves around the worship of Nyx, the Goddess of Night, and Hunted really digs into questions of faith and free will (often related to what guy Zoey will be drawn to next...very clever to make that her weakness!). At various points in the series you also have People of Faith, Catholic nuns, and Cherokee legend. How do you see all these elements working together?
Very clever of you to recognize the ramifications of Zoey's weakness!
It's easy for me to weave the different religious elements of the world together because it's not really "religion" I'm dealing with when I create the conflicts and faith foundations in the House of Night. Instead I see it as a way to illuminate coming of age issues, which often deal with conformity and obsession and trying to learn boundaries. I chose to give my heroine a belief system in which to live that is matriarchal because my purpose is to empower young women, and by allowing Zoey to join a world where women are valued as leaders and really have no glass ceiling, except the ones they create for themselves, as exemplified by Neferet, I have a springboard for a lot of girl power.
What wer...
336 pages, Library Binding
First published March 10, 2009
His laugh was seductive. I wanted to drown in it. I leaned forward, closing my eyes and gasping aloud as the chill of his spirit brushed against my breasts, sending shooting sensations that were painful but deliciously erotic to places in my body that made me feel out of control.
“You like the pain. It brings you pleasure.”
“I’m not A-ya!”
“You command the elements,” his voice was a caress, awful and wonderful, compelling and terrifying.
“Gifts from my Goddess,” I said.
“Once before you commanded the elements. You were made from them. Fashioned to love me.”
Okay, before I sound like an über-jealous freak let me explain: Erik Night is to-die-for hot in a Superman-Clark Kent kind of way and, to carry through with the superhero analogy, he’s also talented and honestly a good guy. Er, vampyre. Recently Changed vampyre at that. He is also my boyfriend. Er, ex-boyfriend. Recently ex-boyfriend at that. Sadly, that means I’m going to be ridiculously jealous of anyone, even one of the kinda freaky red fledglings, who might be catching too much of his interest (too much = any).
Then I turned my attention back to Venus. She had an icy beauty. Venus was sleek and sexy in a pair of tight designer jeans and a simple cropped black tank that had a rhinestone skull’s head on it. Her hair was long and thick and the kind of blond that looked golden. In other words, she was definitely attractive enough to hang with Aphrodite, which was saying something, because Aphrodite is totally gorgeous. And, like Aphrodite used to be, Venus was obviously a hateful bitch, and probably had been one before she died and un-died. I narrowed my eyes at her.
I was still trying to decide whether my negative reaction to Venus was because she was (obviously) a bitch, because she had been skulking around the tunnels with Erik, or because I had a bad feeling about the red fledglings in general when she spoke up.
[...]
So maybe my alarm system was misfiring simply because Venus was a hateful bitch, and not because she and the rest of them were evil incarnate.
[...]
“So do you want to use the facilities or not?” Venus said. I thought she sounded grumpy, or maybe “bitchy” was a better descriptive word.
“We are lucky, indeed, that the fledgling missed his mark,” Darius said.
His words still went round and round inside my head because I knew what none of the rest of them did, that it was impossible for Stark to miss his mark. His gift from Nyx had been that his aim was always true, that he always hit whatever it was he aimed at, even if that sometimes had horrible consequences. Our Goddess had told me herself that once she gave a gift, she never took it back, so even though Stark had died and then come back as a twisted version of himself, he still would have hit her heart and killed Stevie Rae if that had been his intention. So did that mean there was more of Stark’s humanity left than there had seemed to be? He’d called my name; he’d recognized me. I’d shivered, reliving the chemistry that had sparked between us right before he died.
“Priestess? Did you not hear me?” Darius and Aphrodite had been staring at me.
“Oh, sorry. Sorry. I was distracted by…” I hadn’t wanted to explain that I was thinking about the guy who had almost killed my best friend.
Then Aphrodite’s yikes turned into a disturbingly sensual moan and her eyes closed as Stevie Rae’s mouth latched on to her, breaking the skin easily and causing the hot, pulsing blood to flow as my best friend greedily sucked and swallowed like a predator.
Okay, yes. It was disturbing and nasty, but it was also weirdly erotic. I know it felt good—it had to. That’s how vampyres are made.
The kiss between the warrior and Aphrodite had so much sizzle to it I swear I could almost see sparks flying. […] I felt guilty watching, even though there was an undeniably sexy beauty to what was happening between them.
A short, Hispanic guy who looked seriously thuggish with his sagging pants and his multiple piercings nodded his head, sending his thick dark hair waving around his face. “Hi,” he said with just a touch of an accent and a surprisingly cute, warm smile.
A black girl twitched out of the group. It was a testament to how distracted I’d been with Venus and Aphrodite and Stevie Rae that I hadn’t noticed her before then. She had on a form-fitting bright yellow shirt cut low to show the top of her black lace bra and a pair of high-waisted, skintight cropped jeans that were cinched up with a wide leather belt that matched her chunky gold shoes. Her hair was cut geometrically into a short poof on her head, and half of it was dyed bright orange.
[...]
“Let’s get it straight right now that I’m not sharin’ my bed with no one,” Kramisha said, weaving her head around and looking bored and pissed off at the same time.
“Aphrodite—she crazy even when she not drunk and Imprinted,” Kramisha said. “We all used to her, though.”
“It ain’t your heart you wanna share,” Kramisha said.
“Don’t go hatin’ on me, baby!” Johnny B said, trying (unsuccessfully) to sound black.
Kramisha rolled her eyes at him. “You so crazy.”
Kramisha stepped calmly out of the shadows. She gave Erik a long, considering look and said, “Boyyyy, you is workin’ it here in the tunnel? Damn! You got some game.”
“Good night. Don’t bother us.” And she disappeared.
“Better him than me,” I heard Erik mutter as he watched the blanket swing back into place. I made no attempt to hide my smile. I was glad Erik wasn’t still interested in Aphrodite.
“Jessica Alba in Sin City. The kid has excellent taste. She’s one hot vamp actress,” Erik said quietly so as not to wake Dallas.
I frowned at him and pulled the Elvis blanket door closed.
“What? It’s not in my bedroom,” he said.
“To repeat our special report on the gang violence in midtown Tulsa last night, Tulsa P.D. reiterates that the city is safe and the problem under control. To quote the chief of police, ‘It was an initiation ritual by a new gang that calls itself Mockers. Leaders of the gang have been arrested and the streets of midtown Tulsa are, once again, safe for our citizens.’ ” […]
“There was no gang in midtown last night,” I said. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!”
“She fixed it. She manipulated the press and probably the public, too,” Erik said, looking grim.

