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Summary
Summary
From the author of Hemlock Island comes a battle of epic proportions in this next novel of the #1 New York Times bestselling Otherworld series.
Savannah Levine is all grown up. As a witch endowed with an array of spells, she is also a force to be reckoned with. As a paranormal investigator she is finally coming into her own. But her last case tore a family apart, and Savannah swore she'd give up her powers to fix the mess she helped create. Someone-or something-must have been listening.
Powerless and on the run from witch-hunting assassins, Savannah stumbles upon a gathering storm that threatens the very existence of the Otherworld. The danger is real, and Savannah must somehow join forces with old friends like Elena, Clay, Paige, Lucas, Jaime, and Hope to face their world's greatest threat-and one that just might come from within.
Author Notes
Kelley Armstrong is a Canadian author, primarily of fantasy works.
She has published twelve fantasy novels to date, most set in the world of Women of the Otherworld series, one crime fiction novel, and the Darkest Powers Trilogy. The latest novel in the Women of the Otherworld series is called Waking the Witch.
Her title Thirteen made The New York Times Best Seller List for 2012. The first book in The Age of Legends Trilogy, Sea of Shadows, made the New York Times bestseller list in April 2014.
(Publisher Provided)
Reviews (2)
Publisher's Weekly Review
In the 12th and penultimate entry in Armstrong's bestselling Otherworld series (after 2010's Waking the Witch), someone has cut off the powers of headstrong young witch Savannah Levine and there's a witch-hunter out to kill her. Savannah, who just tackled her first murder case as a private investigator, now has to rely on mundane skills and her half-demon best friend, Adam, to turn the tables on her would-be killer and recover her magic. In the course of the investigation, she uncovers a group of Supernaturals who plan to wield their powers openly among humans; soon a confusingly large cast of werewolves, vampires, and demons enter the picture. Armstrong keeps the focus on hip, impulsive, and likable Savannah, building suspense with plenty of plot reversals and betrayals. Fans of the series won't want to miss what is clearly the first battle in an Otherworld war. (Aug.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Library Journal Review
Waking the Witch ends with witch/sleuth Savannah Levine declaring she would willingly give up her powers to reverse a child's tragic separation from her grandmother. This sequel opens as Savannah discovers that her fleeting thought was overheard and exploited by an unknown supernatural being who has indeed taken her powers. Through Savannah's struggle without her powers, Armstrong explores the common mistake of defining oneself completely by one specific aspect and excluding other abilities. Readers follow Savannah's maturation as she and a full cast of her Otherworld friends race to stop a complicated plan that could reshape the whole existence of Otherworld as they know it. Verdict Highly recommended for series fans who will be delighted to see all their favorite characters return. [See Prepub Alert, 2/14/11.]-Crystal Renfro, Georgia Inst. of Technology Lib., Atlanta (c) Copyright 2011. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Excerpts
Excerpts
Sitting g cross-legged on my motel bed in the dark, I cast my light-ball spell for the twentieth time. As I recited the incantation, I waited for the mental click that told me it had worked. When that didn't come, I opened my eyes, still expecting to see the glowing ball floating over my fingers. It didn't matter that I hadn't seen it the first nineteen times. It was a damned light-ball spell, so simple I usually didn't even need to finish the incantation before it worked. The room stayed dark. On a chair by the bed, Adam mumbled and shifted in his sleep. Adam Vasic, Exustio half-demon, the guy I'd been in love with since I was twelve, now my best friend. He'd followed me when I took off in a tantrum of guilt and grief, snuck into my motel room, and quietly fell asleep. He was close to waking now, and even my whispered incantations had him fussing. He needed sleep, not more of my angst, so I slid from the room. I stepped outside. It was a wet spring night, the earlier storm gone, whipping winds and a bone-chilling cold left behind. I walked over to Adam's Jeep, parked beside my vintage Triumph motorcycle. I peered through the back of his vehicle, in case I'd left a sweater there. All I could see was his duffel bag, and I didn't want to break in and go through his stuff, which was proof that I really wasn't myself tonight. A soda machine glowed across the motel lot. I wasn't thirsty, but I had change in my pocket and it gave me a destination. After sloshing through one puddle in the dark, I didn't bother trying to avoid the rest, just trudged along, icy water soaking my sneakers. When gravel crackled to my left, I spun and spotted a shape darting behind the motel. Which reminded me . . . Besides losing my powers, I was also the target of a witch-hunter. Apparently she'd found me again. I glanced toward my room. I should get Adam. Without my spells, I was-- Powerless? Hardly. I was six feet tall and in great shape. The witch-hunter was a scrawny mouse of a girl, barely an adult, barely five-foot-five, with no apparent supernatural powers. I took another step, careful now, and instinctively started whispering a sensing spell under my breath. Then I stopped. Do it the old-fashioned way. Look and listen. I did, but couldn't hear anything. Peering around the corner didn't help. Then gravel crunched overhead. On the roof. A trick she'd pulled before. I should have been prepared. I looked around. There had to be a fire escape or trash bins I could climb-- A loud noise sent me spinning, back to the wall, hands lifted for a spell. Tires squealed as a car roared past the motel. I looked down at my fingers, still outstretched, ready to cast. I inhaled sharply and clenched my fists. What if she did have a gun? Sure, I knew some martial arts, but I was no black belt. I'd learned grudgingly, knowing my spells were better than any roundhouse kick. I'd love to bring this kid down on my own, but the important thing was to stop her before she targeted another witch. Time to get backup. I was two doors from my room when a hand clamped on my shoulder. I spun, fingers flying up in a useless knockback spell. It was a man, a huge guy, at least three hundred pounds and a few inches taller than me. Beard stubble covered his fleshy face. He smelled like he'd showered in Jack Daniel's. "You got a dollar?" he said. "I'm hungry." He pointed at the vending machine. "I don't got a dollar." "Neither do I," I said. He grabbed my arm and yanked me, his other arm going around my waist as he pulled me against him. I froze. Just froze, my brain stuttering through all the spells I couldn't cast, refusing to offer any alternatives. "Let her go," said a familiar voice. Adam walked over, hands at his sides, fingers glowing faintly, gaze fixed on the man. I snapped to my senses and elbow-jabbed the guy, who fell back, whining, "I just wanted a dollar." Adam is my height and well built, but he's no muscle-bound bruiser. Still the guy shrunk, then slithered off to his room. "Well, that was humiliating," I said. "Tell you what, I'll buy that new top for your Jeep if you promise never to tell anyone you rescued me from a drunk asking for spare change." He didn't smile. Just studied me, then said, "Let's get inside." "Can't. My little witch-hunter has returned. She's up on the roof. I was just coming in to get you for backup." That gave him pause, but he only nodded, then peered up at the dark rooftop. "I'll go around the rear and climb up. You cover the front." I should have warned him that I was spell-free. I really should have. I didn't. A few minutes later, gravel crunched on the roof again and I tensed, but it was only Adam. He walked to the front, hunkered down, and motioned me over. "No sign of her," he whispered. "But I can't see shit. Can you toss up a light ball?" "Is there a flashlight in the Jeep?" I asked. "That'd be easier." "Sure." He dropped the keys into my hand. "Glove box." Excerpted from Spell Bound by Kelley Armstrong All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.