Bøger af Liz Mahaffey

Blood Wroth, Part 2 - The FoundationWhat a difference six months can make. From schlepping in caves filled with bat guano in Afghanistan, to being transported to another cave in Wyoming, sleeping in tents, Chance's next stop was a magnificent Gothic style fortress built in the shape of a seven-pointed Faery star. The Hawk Foundation. Aside from the impressive seven Dragon Towers which comprised the fortress, the Foundation could boast of having the most modern state-of-the-art facilities, a luxurious hotel, and thousands of acres of park-like settings behind tall, fortified fences.They'd need every square foot of those barricades (and then some) to hold back the tide of what would inevitably be striking at them: Hel Blar, led by Draugar in league with an old nemesis, Camazotz, the Bat God. Each unfolding scrap of intelligence they'd gleaned had only served to highlight the urgency of identifying their needed seven Dragons. All would be for naught unless Chance's mother, the Medean Witche, could unite the Ri Ardri of the North, the Old Dragon, with the part of his 'misplaced' Dragon consciousness. Each mysterious thread unraveled in their Dragon tapestry revealed yet another tangled connection in a web of schemes and deceptions reaching back over three thousand years. None was more adept at deciphering the maze than Jacques, a man tragically haunted by his own inability to discover the fate of his lost love, Aimee. Once again, Zee's prescient knowledge proved accurate. The Healer's arrival was unveiling serpentine old enigmas. The spirit of Madadh's wife was indeed within the red-haired woman. With preparations for the All-Hallows Masked Ball proceeding as planned, Jacques' Blood Wroth at hand, his path would unexpectedly be diverted to the past, to le labyrinthe de l'epervier. Was it not fate, whose name is also sorrow, that bade me pause before that garden gateto breathe the incense of those slumbering roses.

When the Spirit of Annie resides inside the woman with red hair, Ease troublesome conscience; Care needs taken, much to beware.Thrice born, twice risen, (woe) one falsely given; When Spirits split, old ghosts put to rest.What Walks Far is hard to catch. A strong mate worth winning is far the best. Love (is) never forsaken. Give back token taken. Look to increase family of worthy bloodlines.Heed the stone; join the bone. Two heads are better than one; your true destiny is sublime.Prophesies were like legends, difficult to decipher fact from fiction. The Arapaho Grandfathers told of a benevolent White Wolf, the daughter of a revered Hiincebiit who had saved the Algonquian from other giants. She would appear when the People had need of her to protect them from the little spirit blood drinkers and Hecesiieihii. Other tribes in the Northwest fearfully spoke of the same White Wolf, a woman that was a Ghost Walker, a necromancer, able to raise Spirits, send them forth into battle, or capture their Souls.Staying behind in Idaho with his reincarnated red-headed wife, while the rest of his crew returned to the Foundation, Madadh's thrust in their Dragon raising efforts was to chase down the last living descendant of the Ri Ruriech, Cuar. Whether or not Cuar's daughter and this White Wolf Woman were one and the same was yet to be proven. Madadh's teams were busily investigating every promising lead uncovered on the Draugar in league with Camazotz. With Madadh's unique ability to 'read' memories, finding a few of those Draugar would gain them crucial intelligence. The biggest obstacle was finding a live one. Someone out there was effectively eliminating his suspects. That wasn't Madadh's only problem. That Spirit of Annie wasn't anything like he'd expected. She was more the wraith at times, come back to extract her vengeance, haunt him for his past sins. So what the hell had Zee's prophesy meant?Jacques would be faced with his own past indiscretions, come home to roost. Other old ghosts from the past were cropping up as well. Each of them would need to confront a part of their painful history, exorcise those memories, to enable them to move forward. The clock was ticking and the fate of the Blood Bound was hanging in the balance.

Blood Wroth continues the enthralling tale that commenced with Blood Claimed.Overcoming an enigmatic early childhood, and a few bumps along the way, Doctor Chance McMillan, wolf biologist, had nevertheless resolutely pursued his dreams. Committed to saving the species closest to his heart, he'd become a wildlife Veterinarian with the USF&WS Wolf Reintroduction program. Dreams turned to nightmares when he'd awakened in a cage in the field, with a tracking collar around his neck, a dart embedded in his ass, and one hellava hallucination.It was only the beginning of Chance taking what would prove the most extraordinary journey - that of the prophesied 'Healer' of the Blood Bound. Their fate rested in the hands of the young doctor who had been raised without the slightest clue of who or what he was. Twenty-first century technology and science won't be the only wherewithal needed to heal the fractured remnants of the once great people called the Derkesthai. Threads of these shape-shifting former gods and heroes were woven into the rich tapestry of eons of multi-cultural legends and myths, distant memories, many at the root of modern-day tales of horror. Deciphering medical anomalies, separating fact from fantasy, will prove as challenging for Chance as it is to deal with his supposed mentors: Michaela, Madadh, Jacques, and Gregori.One hundred and thirty years Michaela had waited. Waited and watched the boy grow into the man who was destined to become her mate, that part of Zee's prophesy kept secret from the rest of her crew. That explosive revelation was only one of several that were coming home to roost with the arrival of the Healer. Hadn't Zee foretold that with the coming of the Healer, it would precipitate other events? Madadh was anxious to rebuild the family he'd lost, find the woman that housed the reincarnated Spirit of his dead wife, make amends, assuage the guilt he'd carried for over three centuries. Never idle with his grand designs and schemes, Jacques had completed his massive fortress, the seven Dragon Towers awaiting the resurrection of the Old Dragon, Gregori. The Medean Witche was finally within his grasp, the end-game commencing, the future of the Blood Bound hanging in the balance. Only a few distractions usurped his total concentration on his objectives: he needed to kill a man, complete the Blood Wroth; and he wanted to prolong the life of a young woman, delay taking her soul.

Talented at prophesying the future, what Zee has foreseen for her Aunt Michaela and Uncle Madadh will alter the future of the Blood Bound. Her own was always an elusive blank slate. Zee liked to think she molded her own destiny by utilizing her intellect, her law degree, and an inherited cunning needed to outwit her Machiavellian Uncle Jacques. Obtaining a law degrees in the early nineteenth century had required shrewdly negotiating with the scheming, amoral reprobate, plus her promises of maintaining her Witche glamour to disguise herself as a male (a necessity anyway to attend the Sorbonne). Changing her appearance, hiding or fleeing was second nature to Zee. Thrice she'd escaped her imprisonment (the convent where her Uncle Jacques had dumped her); she'd survived her Royal pain in the ass family who'd been intent on eliminating her for decades; and in Paris, for weeks she'd artfully dodged the persistent Sumaire intent on catching himself a tasty Fire Witche..... him and his huge, dumb shape-shifting black cat. An unusual frightening incident in San Francisco had awakened a potentially formidable new magical talent within, and precipitated her prematurely relocating to San Antonio, as the elderly widow, Mrs. Thomas. A boon, in hindsight. Emancipated from Uncle Jacques' guardianship, she'd finally locked the master manipulator into ironclad legal contracts, and for a small concession, maneuvered him into extending ridiculously favorable shipping and interest rates with his companies. In fact, thanks to those tremendous savings, Zee was about to embark on a business partnership, finally meet the reputable, extremely polite, principled attorney who had established a consortium: Alejandro Montealban. Zee couldn't have divined her well mannered, deliciously exotic new partner was the savage Jaguar God of Terrestrial Fire, or that they'd be fleeing to the jungles of Central America, evading a terrifying new threat. Nor that they were the first key to unlocking ancient mysteries of the Derkesthai Dragons. Blood Claimed in a ceremony two centuries in the making, Zee was about to discover the source of her newfound abilities, and exactly how duplicitous Uncle Jacques had been.