Faefever: Fever Series Book 3 by Karen Marie Moning (English) Paperback Book

Description: Faefever by Karen Marie Moning Thrilling and seductive, this third novel in Monings "New York Times"-bestselling Fever series draws readers deeper into the adventures of "sidhe"-seer MacKayla Lane, as she enters a world of ancient sorcery in Fae-infested Dublin. FORMAT Paperback LANGUAGE English CONDITION Brand New Publisher Description NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLERHe calls me his Queen of the Night. Id die for him. Id kill for him, too.When MacKayla Lane receives a page torn from her dead sisters journal, she is stunned by Alinas desperate words. And now MacKayla knows that her sisters killer is close. But evil is closer. And suddenly the sidhe-seer is on the hunt- For answers. For revenge. And for an ancient book of dark magic so evil that it corrupts anyone who touches it.Macs quest for the Sinsar Dubh takes her into the mean, shapeshifting streets of Dublin, with a suspicious cop on her tail. Forced into a dangerous triangle of alliance with Vlane, a lethal Fae prince, and Jericho Barrons, a man of deadly secrets, Mac is soon locked in a battle for her body, mind, and soul.Look for all of Karen Marie Monings sensational Fever novels-DARKFEVER | BLOODFEVER | FAEFEVER | DREAMFEVER | SHADOWFEVER | ICED | BURNED | FEVERBORN | FEVERSONG Author Biography Karen Marie Moningis the #1New York Timesbestselling author of the Fever series, featuring MacKayla Lane, and the award-winning Highlander series. She has a bachelors degree in society and law from Purdue University. Review "A radically different and engaging dark fantasy series." –Booklist"A seductive mix of Celtic mythology and dark, sexy danger." –Chicago Tribune Review Quote "A radically different and engaging dark fantasy series." Booklist "A seductive mix of Celtic mythology and dark, sexy danger." Chicago Tribune From the Hardcover edition. Excerpt from Book Prologue Id die for him. No, wait a minute...thats not where this is supposed to begin. I know that. But left to my own devices, Id prefer to skim over the events of the next few weeks, and whisk you through those days with glossed-over details that cast me in a more flattering light. Nobody looks good in their darkest hour. But its those hours that make us what we are. We stand strong, or we cower. We emerge victorious, tempered by our trials, or fractured by a permanent, damning fault line. I never used to think about things like darkest hours and trials and fault lines. I used to fill my days with sunning and shopping, bartending at The Brickyard (always more of a party than a job, and that was how I liked my life), and devising ways to con Mom and Dad into helping me buy a new car. At twenty-two, I was still living at home, safe in my sheltered world, lulled by the sleepy, slow-paddling fans of the Deep South into believing myself the center of it. Then my sister, Alina, was brutally murdered while studying abroad in Dublin, and my world changed overnight. It was bad enough that I had to identify her mutilated body, and watch my once happy family shatter, but my world didnt stop falling apart there. It didnt stop until Id learned that pretty much everything Id been raised to believe about myself wasnt true. I discovered that my folks werent my real parents; my sister and I were adopted; and despite my lazy, occasionally overblown drawl, we werent southern at all, but descended from an ancient Celtic bloodline of sidhe -seers, people who can see the Fae--a terrifying race of otherworldly beings that have lived secretly among us for thousands of years, cloaked in illusions and lies. Those were the easy lessons. The hard lessons were yet to come, waiting for me in the craic -filled streets of the Temple Bar District of Dublin, where I would watch people die, and learn to kill; where I would meet Jericho Barrons, Vlane, and the Lord Master; where I would step up to the plate as a major player in a deadly game with fate of-the-world stakes. For those of you just joining me, my name is MacKayla Lane, Mac for short. My real last name might be OConnor, but I dont know that for sure. Im a sidhe -seer, one of the most powerful thats ever lived. Not only can I see the Fae, I can hurt them and, armed with one of their most sacred Hallows--the Spear of Luin, or Destiny--I can even kill the immortal beings. Dont settle into your chair and relax. Its not just my world thats in troub≤ its your world, too. Its happening, right now, while youre sitting there, munching a snack, getting ready to immerse yourself in a fictional escape. Guess what? Its not fiction, and theres no escape. The walls between the human world and Faery are coming down--and I hate to break it to you, but these fairies are so not Tinkerbells. If the walls crash completely...well, youd just better hope they dont. If I were you, Id turn on all my lights right now. Get out a few flashlights. Check your supply of batteries. I came to Dublin for two things: to find out who killed my sister, and to get revenge. See how easily I can say that now? I want revenge. Revenge with a capital R . Revenge with crushed bones and a lot of blood. I want her murderer dead, preferably by my own hand. A few months here and Ive shed years of polished southern civilities. Shortly after I stepped off the plane from Ashford, Georgia, and planted my well-pedicured foot on Irelands shore, I probably would have died if I hadnt stumbled into a bookstore owned by Jericho Barrons. Who or what he is, I have no idea. But he has knowledge that I need, and I have something he wants, and that makes us reluctant allies. When I had no place to turn, Barrons took me in, taught me who and what I am, opened my eyes, and helped me survive. He didnt do it nicely, but I no longer care how I survive, as long as I do. Because it was safer than my cheap room at the inn, I moved in to his bookstore. Its protected against most of my enemies with wards and assorted spells, and stands bastion at the edge of what I call a Dark Zone: a neighborhood that has been taken over by Shades, amorphous Unseelie that thrive in darkness and suck the life from humans. Weve battled monsters together. Hes saved my life twice. Weve shared a taste of dangerous lust. Hes after the Sinsar Dubh --a million-year-old book of the blackest magic imaginable, scribed by the Unseelie King himself, that holds the key to power over both the worlds of Fae and Man. I want it because it was Alinas dying request that I find it, and I suspect it holds the key to saving our world. He says he wants it because he collects books. Right. Vlane is another story. Hes a Seelie prince, and a death-by-sex Fae, which youll be learning more about soon enough. The Fae consist of two adversarial courts with their own Royal Houses and unique castes: the Light or Seelie Court, and the Dark or Unseelie Court. Dont let the light and dark stuff fool you. Both are deadly. However, the Seelie considered the Unseelie so deadly that they imprisoned them roughly seven hundred thousand years ago. When one Fae fears another, be afraid. Each court has their Hallows, or sacred objects of immense power. The Seelie Hallows are the spear (which I have), the sword, the stone, and the cauldron. The Unseelie Hallows are the amulet (which I had and the Lord Master took), the box, the Sifting Silvers, and the highly sought-after Book. They all have different purposes. Some I know; others Im not so clear on. Like Barrons, Vlane is after the Sinsar Dubh . Hes hunting it for the Seelie Queen Aoibheal, who needs it to reinforce the walls between the realms of Fae and Man, and keep them from coming down. Like Barrons, he has saved my life. (Hes also given me some of the most intense orgasms of it.) The Lord Master is my sisters murderer; the one who seduced, used, and destroyed her. Not quite Fae, not quite human, hes been opening portals between realms, bringing Unseelie--the worst of the Fae--through to our world, turning them loose, and teaching them to infiltrate our society. He wants the walls down so he can free all the Unseelie from their icy prison. Hes also after the Sinsar Dubh, although Im not certain why. I think he may be seeking it to destroy it, so no one can ever rebuild the walls again. Thats where I come in. These three powerful, dangerous men need me. Not only can I see the Fae, I can sense Fae relics and Hallows. I can feel the Sinsar Dubh out there, a dark, pulsing heart of pure evil. I can hunt it. I can find it. My dad would say that makes me this seasons MVP. Everybody wants me. So I stay alive in a world where death darkens my doorstep daily. Ive seen things that would make your skin crawl. Ive done things that make my skin crawl. But thats not important now. Whats important is starting at the right place--lets see...where was that? I peel the pages of my memory backward, one at a time, squinting so I dont have to see them too clearly. I turn back, past that whiteout where all memories vanish for a time, past that hellish Halloween, and the things Barrons did. Past the woman I killed. Past a part of Vlane piercing the meat of my tongue. Past what I did to Jayne. There. I zoom down into a dark, damp, shiny street. Its me. Pretty in pink and gold. Im in Dublin. Its nighttime. Im walking the cobbled pavement of Temple Bar. Im alive, vibrantly so. Theres nothing like a recent brush with death to make you feel larger than life. Theres a sparkle in my eyes and a spring in my step. Im wearing a killer pink dress with my favorite heels, and Im accessorized to the hilt, in gold and rose amethyst. Ive taken extra care with my hair and makeup. Im on my way to meet Christian MacKeltar, a sexy, mysterious young Scotsman who knew my sister. I feel good for a change. Well, at least for a short time I do. Fast-forward a few moments. Now Im clutching my head and stumbling from the sidewalk, into the gutter. Falling to all fours. Ive just gotten closer to the Sinsar Dubh than Ive ever been before, and its having its usual effect on me. Pain. Debilitating. I no longer look so pretty. In fact, I look positively wretched. On my hands and knees in a puddle that smells of beer and urine, Im iced to the bone. My hair is in a tangle, my amethyst hair clip bobs against my nose, and Im crying. I push the hair from my face with a filthy hand and watch the tableau playing out in front of me with wide, horrified eyes. I remember that moment. Who I was. What I wasnt. I capture it in freeze-frame. There are so many things I would say to her. Head up, Mac. Brace yourself. A storm is coming. Dont you hear the thunderclap of sharp hooves on the wind? Cant you feel the soul-numbing frost? Dont you smell spice and blood on the breeze? Run, I would tell her. Hide. But I wouldnt listen to me. On my knees, watching that... thing... do what its doing, Im in the stranglehold of a k Details ISBN0440244390 Author Karen Marie Moning Short Title FAEFEVER Language English ISBN-10 0440244390 ISBN-13 9780440244394 Media Book DEWEY FIC Year 2009 Imprint Bantam Dell Publishing Group, Div of Random House, Inc Place of Publication New York Country of Publication United States Residence Cincinnati, OH, US Pages 432 Series Number 03 Subtitle Fever Series Book 3 UK Release Date 2009-07-28 Illustrations MAPS, PART TITLE ART,TATTOO AU Release Date 2009-07-28 NZ Release Date 2009-07-28 US Release Date 2009-07-28 Illustrator Richard Scarry Birth 1969 Affiliation Assistant Professor, Department of Mechanical Engineering, NSS College of Engineering, Palakkad, India Position UN Under-Secretary General and Rector Qualifications QC Publisher Random House USA Inc Series Fever Format Paperback Publication Date 2009-07-28 Audience General We've got this At The Nile, if you're looking for it, we've got it. 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