Whisper
the Dead
The
Lovegrove Legacy, Book
Two
Alyxandra
Harvey (
Genre: YA, YA historical
paranormal, witches
Publisher: Bloomsbury
Date of Publication: Oct 7,2014
Word Count: 100 000
Book Description:
Gretchen is struggling with her
newfound gift as a Whisperer; the constant buzzing in her ears from detecting
spells is more frustrating than fun, especially when she is spending time with
one of the Order of Iron Nail’s Keepers, the icy but strikingly handsome Tobias
Lawless.
But while Gretchen tries to hide
the truth and resolve her feelings for him, London fades from beautiful and
bustling to deathly silent …Something evil is once again menacing Mayfair, and
Gretchen and her cousins must use their powers to prevent a horrible sacrifice
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Excerpt
The contrast between fighting off the Rovers and
pasting a polite smile on her face for the single sons of earls was too stark.
Residual magic burned through her. She was surprised the air around her didn’t
crackle. Her mother shouldn’t begrudge her a stolen moment in the library, not
if the alternative involved magic shooting off the ends of her hair. Hardly
subtle.
Not to mention hardly marriageable material.
On
second thought….
Better
not. She’d already pushed her luck by going off with Godric.
Egyptian
onion farming it was then. She walked along the book shelves, reading titles
and glancing into the glass-fronted cabinets that held Lord Worthing’s collection
of painted globes. It was dull and dusty and soothing. Her witch knot stopped
aching.
Until
someone grabbed her arm, yanking it behind her back and spinning her around.
Her check pressed to the cold glass of a curio cabinet. Pain shot up to her elbow
when she tried to move. “Who are
you?” a man’s asked, his voice quiet and cold in her ear.
“Who
am I?” she barked back. “Who the hell are you?” He evaded the kick she aimed at
his most sensitive parts. Her skirts wrapped around her knees, hobbling and
infuriating her. He turned her roughly around.
Tobias
Lawless.
She
wasn’t sure which of the two of them was more surprised.
Someone
so chilly and perfect and wearing such a flawless cravat shouldn’t be mauling
ladies in dark libraries. He also shouldn’t have several short iron daggers
tucked inside his cutaway coat. It probably said something unsavory about her
character that the sight of those daggers made her like him a bit more. But
only a little bit.
“Let
me go,” she yanked savagely down, breaking his hold. He didn’t move back, and
his body continued to block her against the cabinets. The glass rattled.
“What
are you doing?” he stepped closer still. She had to tilt her chin up.
“I am currently being accosted,” she snapped,
driving the heel of her shoe into the top of his foot. He fell back a step,
growling in his throat. Growling. He really didn’t seem the type.
She
made a proper fist, not like the ones girls made when they hadn’t practiced
before. She’d already punched a Rover tonight. She was very comfortable
punching Tobias, Lord Killingsworth. Eager, in fact.
“What is wrong with you?” she asked finally. “Are
you drunk?”
“Certainly
not.”
She
raised an eyebrow. “I’m the one being mauled and yet you take offense?”
“I
can smell it on you,” he answered which was no answer at all. “There’s no use
prevaricating.”
“I
don’t usually bother lying about perfume,” she replied, now more bewildered
than concerned.
“Not
perfume,” he ground out, as if she was the frustrating one. “Dark magic.”
Her eyes narrowed to angry slits. “I beg your
pardon.”
“As
you should.”
She
aimed for his head. It was big and fat and so perfectly groomed, how could she
miss? He caught her wrist and squeezed.
Hard. He shouldn’t have been fast enough.
An
iron-nail pendant in the shape of a wheel slipped out from under his collar.
Gretchen stared at it, then transferred her glare to his haughty, unkindly
beautiful face. “I knew it.” She gave
him a smile better suited to one of the animals in the zoological gardens.
“You’re a bloody Keeper.”
About
the Author
Alyxandra Harvey lives in a stone
Victorian house in Ontario, Canada with a few resident ghosts who are allowed
to stay as long as they keep company manners. She loves medieval dresses, used
to be able to recite all of The Lady of Shalott by Tennyson, and has been
accused, more than once, of being born in the wrong century. She believes this
to be mostly true except for the fact that she really likes running water,
women’s rights, and ice cream.