Time passes, sins forgotten.
The bodies of the victims long since rotten.
Trapped within the essence of the Headless Horseman by the guilt of slaughtering her best friend, Ireland Crane follows the father of science fiction, HG Wells, in search of freedom from the curse that binds her. Instead, she discovers even he has a hidden agenda. A dark, relentless passion to be reunited with the woman he loves has driven him to manipulate time and a murderous Horseman.
Yet heed my warning, as the Raven flies,
The Hessian will come … and you will die.
All that prevents Ireland from abandoning Wells’ twisted pursuit, or introducing him to her sword, are the undead witches haunting her. Begging for freedom from a vile succubus, the ghoulish coven leads Ireland and her crew on a journey through Salem’s sordid past. There, they learn there is more to Nathaniel Hawthorne’s history than a scarlet letter, and the secret they’ve uncovered seeks to destroy them all.
Trapped within the essence of the Headless Horseman by the guilt of slaughtering her best friend, Ireland Crane follows the father of science fiction, HG Wells, in search of freedom from the curse that binds her. Instead, she discovers even he has a hidden agenda. A dark, relentless passion to be reunited with the woman he loves has driven him to manipulate time and a murderous Horseman.
Yet heed my warning, as the Raven flies,
The Hessian will come … and you will die.
All that prevents Ireland from abandoning Wells’ twisted pursuit, or introducing him to her sword, are the undead witches haunting her. Begging for freedom from a vile succubus, the ghoulish coven leads Ireland and her crew on a journey through Salem’s sordid past. There, they learn there is more to Nathaniel Hawthorne’s history than a scarlet letter, and the secret they’ve uncovered seeks to destroy them all.
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Excerpt:
Cradled in his strong arms, Peyton’s eyes snapped open. Her welcoming pools of blue had been stained to inky black voids of nothingness. Fat cerulean veins wriggled beneath the surface of her skin, like roused and ravenous serpents. Malachi pulled back, Peyton’s body floating upright as if hooked by the ribs and dragged. Bones audibly snapped, and her head contorted at a freakish angle to gape in Ireland’s direction.
To the cantankerous Horseman, that was the equivalent of
throwing down the gauntlet. Feeling her senses sharpen, Ireland braced herself
with one hand on the back of a booth. Catapulting over Malachi’s head, she
landed beside him in a low crouch and forcibly shoved him aside. The lights
continued to flash, each illumination revealing another grisly contortion of
Peyton’s body: knees bending backward, arms twisting in countless joints, her
spine seemingly liquid as she rolled head over feet in Ireland’s direction. The
motion appeared more arachnid than human.
The window to their right shattered in a spray of shards,
Ireland’s sword sailing in to settle into her waiting palm. While everyone else
shielded themselves from the shrapnel, she struck a defensive pose with her
sword by her ear in an overhand grasp. “Don’t make me stab a nun,” she growled.
“I mean, I’ll do it, but I
won’t feel good about it.”
Again, the nun’s body rotated in an inexplicably spineless back
walkover that ended with her feet being planted directly in front of Ireland.
Chest rising and falling with the yearning for bedlam, Ireland
hissed out a simple warning, “Don’t do this.”
Peyton’s body retracted board straight, the ends of her hair
brushing the floor before she flung forward as if on a spring. Her fingers
darted out to encircle the wrist of Ireland’s sword wielding hand. Blood
trickled from her nose, staining her lips with ruby droplets. Leaning in, cheek
to cheek, her breath singed Ireland’s nostrils with the foul, rotten-egg stench
of sulfur.
“Take … her … to … hell,” Peyton rasped against Ireland’s
ear.
The lights beamed back on. The ghouls gone.
Letting her sword fall to the ground with an ear-piercing twang, Ireland caught the full
weight of Peyton’s body as she fell limp against her.
“I’m pretty sure we’re already there,” she rumbled and eased the
girl to the ground.
I stayed up all night finishing this much anticipated install to the Legends Saga.
Out of all of the books so far, this one has to be my favourite one. From the start, with Ireland's first scene in the Gentlemen's club, I knew it was going to be a great read. Being more in touch with the Hessian, it made me think of what kind of twists I would encounter.
There are several new characters that you will encounter. The story is told through multiple points of view, but you are never confused of who is talking. There were several scenes where I had to put the kindle down to compose myself or take a breather before continuing on. It is such an addicting series and Steam definitely feeds the addiction.
RONE Award
Winner for Best YA Paranormal Work of 2012 for Embrace, a Gryphon Series Novel
Young Adult
and Teen Reader voted Author of the Year 2012
Turning
Pages Magazine Winner for Best YA book of 2013 & Best Teen Book of
2013
Stacey
Rourke is the author of the award winning YA Gryphon Series, the chillingly
suspenseful Legends Saga, and the romantic comedy Adapted for Film. She lives
in Michigan with her husband, two beautiful daughters, and two giant dogs. She
loves to travel, has an unhealthy shoe addiction, and considers herself blessed
to make a career out of talking to the imaginary people that live in her
head.
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