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Neferet’s true nature has been revealed to the Vampyre High Council, so Zoey and the gang might finally get some help in defending themselves and their beloved school against a gathering evil that grows stronger every day.
Lenobia's sleep was so restless that the familiar dream took on a sense of reality that overstepped the ethereal realm of subconscious outlets and fantasies and became, from the beginning, all too heartbreakingly real.
In her dream Lenobia could feel the gentle roll of the ship and smell the scent of horse and hay, sea and fish— and Martin. Still deeply asleep, Lenobia, Horse Mistress of the Tulsa House of Night, moved restlessly, as if her body was attempting to force her mind to awaken. The sequence of memories shifted and changed to another scene, still in the cargo hold of the same ship, still with Martin, but days later. And then the dream memories rewound again, taking Lenobia back to Martin, only this time they weren't at sea finding one another in the cargo hold and falling in love. As Martin captured the evil human who had tried to enslave her, and then walked back into the flaming stables with him, saving Lenobia's life, the Horse Mistress was finally able to wake herself with a wrenching sob. Lenobia focused a tide of warmth and love on her night-colored mare, and, as always, Mujaji regained her own calm.
The Horse Mistress concentrated on her mare, shutting out the turmoil that the young cowboy's arrival at her stables had caused within her. The knowledge that she was assuring future pain and suffering for Zoey pleased Neferet immeasurably, but she was too disciplined to allow herself to begin gloating before the sacrificial spell was complete and her commands were set into motion.
She spoke softly to the cat, coaxing him closer to her, and when he was near enough she knelt to his level. The Tsi Sgili, immortal Consort of Darkness, and former High Priestess of the House of Night, felt only a vague shadow of regret as her left hand caressed the long length of the Maine Coon's grey tiger striped back. Like Dragon Lankford, the Warrior he'd chosen as his own, Shadowfax was powerful and in the prime of his life. The threads of Darkness that were always present around Neferet throbbed and quivered with anticipation. Neferet paused, allowing the sticky threads of cold blackness to brush against her and gather all around the circle. Holding an image of Aurox in her mind, Neferet stepped inside the circle and plunged the dagger into Shadowfax's body, pinning him to the Field House floor while she loosed the tendrils of Darkness so that they could consume their feast of blood and pain. When the cat was thoroughly drained and absolutely dead, Neferet spoke, “The sacrifice has been made. Like a nest of seething snakes, the minions of Darkness slithered into the night, heading away from the field house and toward a lavender field and the ritual that was already underway there. The scent of smoke drifted to her, and she could hear crackling as, like a loosed beast, the fire fed and grew. Neferet turned away from the stable, closing the thick door between it and the field house securely.
Flames were licking the sides of the building and as she stared, the double doors just at the edge of her vision were thrown open from the inside and against a backdrop of billowing smoke and consuming flames, was the silhouette of a tall cowboy leading a huge gray Percheron and a night black mare from within. Travis let loose of the mares, shooing them into the school grounds and away from the flaming stables, and then he ran back into the flaming mouth of the building. Lenobia bolted from her chamber, raced down the short stairwell that led from her quarters to the ground floor and the stables. Then she heard him cough, and her panic was shattered by hope, allowing the present and the true strength of Lenobia's will to overcome her fear.
She must have made an involuntary noise—­some small outward sign of the horrible heartache she was feeling—­because Travis opened his eyes. Lenobia moved to the side as Travis was transferred to the gurney, but their gaze never broke. Lenobia stared into his amber and olive eyes that-were so familiar, so very, very much like Martin's, and imagined she could see through to that also familiar soul—­to the kindness and strength, honesty and love that somehow had fulfilled his promise to return to her. Lenobia took her touch reluctantly from Travis, wiped her eyes, and said, "You can have him for a little while, but I'll want him back. She was standing there, staring after the ambulance and worrying about Travis, when someone nearby cleared his throat rather obviously, and Lenobia's attention instantly shifted. Lenobia glanced over to where Nicole was sitting, breathing deeply from an oxygen mask while a paramedic checked and rechecked her vitals. Well, at least that's some good news, Lenobia thought, trying to avert her eyes from the smoldering mess that was her stables. Everyone's eyes turned to the petite girl with cascades of thick, dark hair that made the delicate features of her face seem almost doll-like. Lenobia wanted to question Shaylin further, but Erik met Lenobia's gaze and shook his head, almost imperceptibly. As Kramisha hurried off, calling to the scattered fledglings, Lenobia faced Erik and Shaylin.
Lenobia began heading toward the field-house, assuming the two of them would follow her, but she hesitated when Shaylin still resisted. Lenobia followed Shaylin's gaze to see Nicole, still sitting on the bench, between the two infirmary vampyres, looking soot-smudged and pink-skinned.
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Yes, please send me e-mail updates about House of Night and other information from Macmillan and its partners. Check out interviews, videos and scheduled events featuring the authors of the House of Night Series - P.C.
THE AWARD-WINNING CRIME NOVEL THAT LAUNCHED A LEGENDARY WRITING CAREER IS NOW AVAILABLE AS AN E-BOOK. Stuart Woods is the author of fifty books, the last twenty-eight of which have appeared on the New York Times Bestseller list. More than sixty years ago, while rummaging in a closet in my maternal grandmother’s home, I found a large chief-of-police badge.
I began writing the novel in Ireland, in February 1973, and did not finish it until November 1980.
The book established me as a novelist, and from that time onward I have earned my living as a writer.
Chiefs is available for your e-reader from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Google eBookstore, iBookstore, Kobo, and Sony. Megan Hart is the award-winning and multi-published author of more than thirty novels, novellas and short stories. Decades, and then centuries fell away leaving Lenobia young and naive again, and in the cargo hold of the ship that had carried her from France to America— from one world to another. An older, wiser, more cynical Lenobia was cradling the crumbling leather pouch in her hands as it split and spilled it contents—thirteen things, just as Martin had told her—but most of them had become unrecognizable during the century she'd worn the charm.
Instead she heard her only love repeat the words that had broken her heart two hundred years before, feeling it again as if the wound was raw and fresh. Through the psychic connection they shared, she could feel that Mujaji was agitated, almost panicked. She liked to read there, and if she couldn't sleep her window faced east so she could watch the rising of the sun and look out at the grounds beside the stables. Destroyed by flames of hatred and obsession and evil.” Lenobia shook her head and wiped her eyes. She could envision her mare, black and beautiful as the night, finally settling down, cocking a back leg, and falling into a dreamless sleep. Tomorrow, she promised herself sleepily, tomorrow I will make it clear to Travis that we will never be more than employer and employee. Thankfully, classes were over for the night, so when the big Maine Coon met her in the middle of the Field House it was dimly lit and empty—no students were about—Dragon Lankford himself was also absent, but probably only temporarily.

Neferet smiled, satisfied at the thought of how she added the rogue reds to the House of Night. Though the school was unusually quiet tonight, almost abandoned, the truth was anyone could happen into the Field House.
She used her Goddess-given affinity for felines and channeled warmth and reassurance through her palm and into the already trusting feline. His body spasmed, trying to jerk away from her, but her hand fisted in his fur, holding him so close that his blood sprayed, hot and wet, across the bodice of her green velvet dress. She hadn't expected him to stare at her, but the Warrior cat held her gaze even after he had collapsed into the sandy field house floor and could no longer fight her, but lay breathing shallowly, twitching silently, and staring. Using the blade of her ritual athame, Neferet drew a circle around Shadowfax's dying body, so that as blood pooled around him it poured into it, and a miniature moat of scarlet was formed. One particular thread of darkness, thick as her forearm whipped through the door that opened from the field house to the stables.
Being careful to make no noise, and cloaking herself in shadow, Neferet peered into the stables. It seems likely that Stevie Rae may not be the only one who will be grieving after tonight. Get out of there and call 911!" Lenobia yelled as she opened the closest stall and freed a gelding, hating that she'd not grabbed her phone and made the call herself before she'd run from her room. Lenobia looked through the smoke and flames to see a fledgling jogging toward her, leading an utterly panicked sorrel mare.
At her touch the mare quieted, and Lenobia unhooked her lead rope, encouraging her to gallop through the nearby doorway after the other escaping-horses. She'd had an aptitude for-horses and a natural seat, before she'd died and then undied and joined Dallas's rogue group.
Her emotions-were focused on the restless herd behind her, and her eyes-were focused on the thickening smoke and the licking flames before her from which Travis did not emerge. He'd fallen and was trying to pull himself up, but had only made it to his knees where he was bent over gagging and coughing.
Just lay down." When he didn't move quickly enough, she kicked his knees out from under him. You made it out." The coolness of the air registered, and then her mind was able to put sense to what was happening. Lenobia drained the wine that was heavily laced with blood in one long swallow, instantly feeling the life energy it carried tingle through her body. Deep within her Lenobia knew that even though the rest of the tall, wiry cowboy looked nothing at all like her lost love, she'd found her heart again. Before they closed the doors and, with lights flashing, drove away, Lenobia was sure she heard Travis's chuckle turn to a wracking cough. I like the word magickal instead." Dismissively, Lenobia nodded to the fireman and then began striding toward the group of fledglings that-were clustered around Erik Night and Professor P.
Margareta and Pemphredo hovered close by, glaring at the EMT like he was a particularly disgusting insect. Lenobia put a name to her face quickly, Shaylin—­the newest fledgling at the Tulsa-House of Night, and the only fledgling whose original Mark was red.
She'd liked her even before she'd died, and then come back as a red fledgling who had such prophetic poetic skills that she'd been named the new Vampyre Poet Laureate.
Turning on her, ready to call the fledgling to task for either insolence or ignorance, Erik beat her to it by saying something. Across the school grounds, moving quickly toward them, was a phalanx of vampyres and fledglings with Thanatos in their lead, Zoey and Stevie Rae on either side of her and, bizarrely enough, Kalona, wings unfurled defensively, striding along with them just behind Thanatos, as if he had suddenly become Death's Guardian Angel. It was finally published in March 1981 and was made into a six-hour television miniseries two year later, which starred Charlton Heston, Billy Dee Williams, John Goodman, Brad Davis, Tess Harper, Danny Glover, Paul Sorvino, Stephen Collins, and Victoria Tennant.
Enabling JavaScript in your browser will allow you to experience all the features of our site. The most famous sections of the book contains Polo's account of his travels to China, which he calls Cathay (north China) and Manji (south China). 1254 – January 8, 1324) was a Venetian merchant traveler from the Venetian Republic whose travels are recorded in The Travels of Marco Polo, a book which did much to introduce Europeans to Central Asia and China. Her work has been published in almost every genre, including contemporary women’s fiction, historical romance, romantic suspense and erotica. It was during that journey that Lenobia had met Martin, the man who should have been her Mate for his entire life. He was standing before her, gazing down at her through eyes that were olive and amber and worried. Lenobia remembered a faint scent of juniper, the smooth feel of the clay pebble before it turned to dust, and the tiny dove's feather that had crumbled between her fingers.
Even dreaming, Lenobia knew the place and the date: New Orleans, March 21, 1788, not long after sunset.
No!” Lenobia had screamed at him then, now she whimpered, struggling to awaken before she had to relive the horrible end of the memory.
His renewed memory was a double-edged sword—on one side she loved recalling his smile, his scent, his touch. The color of his eyes and the way he makes me feel, all of that will begin to ease when I distance myself from him. What lovely, chaotic possibilities they presented—especially after she ensured Zoey's circle would be broken and her best friend, Stevie Rae, would be devastated, grieving the loss of her lover.
The big cat wasn't friendly—he didn't rub against her and mark her affectionately with his scent—but he came to her.
While her left hand caressed him, encouraging him to arch and begin to purr, her right hand snaked out and with her razor-edged athame, she quickly, cleanly, slashed Shadowfax's throat. The thought satisfied Neferet, and she left the field house and the carnage she'd caused there, not seeing the small white cat that padded to Shadowfax's motionless body, curled beside him, and closed her eyes. She pulled the girl back with her, away from the increasing heat, saying, "How many more-horses are—" Lenobia's words broke off as she saw that the crescent on the girl's forehead was red. She sounded breathless and frightened, but without hesitation she followed Lenobia and they jogged back into the swirling heat of the stables. She understood it—­this terror of flames and fire and death—­and she channeled strength and serenity through herself and into the-horses that galloped past her and into the school grounds. For an instant Lenobia was transported back to that terrible night in New Orleans and another burning barn.
I-can't see you!" she shouted as she ripped off the bottom of her nightgown, stepped into the closest stall, and dunked it in the water trough. I do not like it." Lenobia pulled the soaking cloth over her like a hooded cloak and moved farther into the smoke and heat, following Travis's coughs. She gasped, breathing in the clean air and coughing out heat and smoke as gentle hands helped her to the grass and put a mask over her nose and mouth, through which even sweeter air flooded her lungs. A pair of paramedics was hovering, staring at her, looking lost and obviously surprised at how quickly she was recovering. Before they loaded him within, he pushed off his mask, and in a gravelly voice asked, "Bonnie? Hope she rests better knowin' I got me one." He sounded like his throat was full of sandpaper. Emotion clogged her voice, and all she could do was smile, nod, and turn her hand so that his fingertips rested on her palm—­warm, strong, and very much alive. The school seemed to have exploded.-Horses milled ner­vous­ly as close to the east wall as they could get. He was dressed in a fireman's uniform, and he was watching her with raised-brow, open curiosity.

I'll get this sorted out." The-Horse Mistress joined Erik, Professor P, and their bunch of fledglings, which included a Son of Erebus Warrior, Kramisha, Shaylin, and several fifth and sixth former blue fledglings.
The field-house will have smoke and water damage, but it's going to look a lot worse than it really is. Lenobia had thought there was something rather odd about her from the first moment she'd met her just days before.
It had belonged to my grandfather, who had died wearing it more than ten years before my birth. He learned about trading whilst his father and uncle, Niccolò and Maffeo, travelled through Asia and apparently met Kublai Khan. Megan lives in the deep, dark woods of Pennsylvania with her husband and children, and is currently working on her next novel for MIRA Books. But most of all Lenobia remembered the fleeting rush of joy she'd felt when, in the midst of the disintegrating remnants of Martin's love and protection, she'd discovered something that time hadn't been able to ravage.
They are too easily killed, and today the world is even more dangerous than it was in 1788. Vampyre or not, at her core she would eternally be a girl who loved mornings and horses and a tall, cappuccino skinned human who had died long ago when he had been far too young. Neferet's own cat, Skylar, had refused to relocate to her new Mayo pent house suite, choosing instead to lurk in the shadows of the House of Night and watch her knowingly with his large, green eyes. Some were lazily grazing, already settled down for the approaching dawn and the rest the sun would bring them until it set and students arrived for their never ending classes. It-wasn't warm to the touch, so she yanked open the door, assessing the situation rapidly as she moved into her stables.
The thick ridges of the scars on her back ached with a phantom memory of pain, and for a moment panic ruled, rooting Lenobia in the past.
She stepped into the stall and dunked the ripped cloth into the stall's water trough again.
Fire trucks-were parked on the grounds beside the stable, spraying enormous hoses filled with rushing water on the still burning structure.
Norton published his debut novel Chiefs, the crime novel that introduced his beloved Will Lee series. The story of his death, as related to me by my grandmother’s sister, my great aunt Ruby, formed the basis of Chiefs.
The text claims that Marco Polo became an important figure at the court of the Mongol leader Kublai Khan. I am well.” Lenobia spoke aloud, sending soothing feelings to the black mare with whom she had a special bond. She drew in a deep, centering breath and turned her thoughts to a subject that never failed to calm her, no matter how chaotic the world around her had become—horses—Mujaji, in particular.
The fire burned most fiercely at the far end of the building in the area where the hay and feed-were stored. Flat," Lenobia commanded, as she reached into the water trough, and quickly splashed the liquid over her face and hair. It was as if her body was moving on automatic with no one pi­loting it except a primal need to keep dragging this man from danger. This acclaimed book won the Edgar Award for Best First Novel and was adapted into a TV mini-series starring Charlton Heston.
Modern assessments of the text usually consider it to be the record of an observant rather than imaginative or analytical traveler.
The three of them embarked on an epic journey to Asia, returning after 24 years to find Venice at war with Genoa; Marco was imprisoned, and dictated his stories to a cellmate. Feeling guilty for upsetting Mujaji, she bowed her head and cradled her hand, twisting the emerald ring around and around her finger.
Feeling calmer now, Lenobia reached out again with that extra special part of her spirit that Nyx had touched, and gifted with an affinity for horses, the day sixteen year-old Lenobia had been Marked. Then an ominous cracking sound had Lenobia shaking off the last of the sleep that had clouded her mind as she moved quickly to the window and drew aside the heavy black drapes. It was also the area closest to Mujaji's stall as well as the large foaling stall the Percheron, Bonnie, and her Travis had taken up residence in. Then, before he could protest or foil her plan by moving around, she grabbed Travis's legs and began pulling. It'll take some rebuilding, but its bones-were made to last." The fireman tipped his hat to her and went off, shouting orders at the nearest men. Peters, upon whom the character Hugh Holmes is based, sat down with me for a long interview and filled in many blanks about the founding of my hometown, Manchester, Georgia. Polo emerges as being curious and tolerant, and devoted to Kublai Khan and the dynasty that he served for two decades.
If Travis is not Martin I do not want to open myself to him—to take a chance on loving another human. She found her mare easily, and instantly felt guilty at the mirrored agitation she sensed in Mujaji. The mare reluctantly but obediently began moving around the clusters of frightened-horses, herding them together. Have them account for each student and then have the students report to their mentors before they return to their dormitory rooms." As the professor and the Warrior hurried away, Lenobia met Kramisha's frank gaze.
In addition to Will Henry and Holmes, a number of other characters were based on real people, all of whom are long dead.
EXCERPT"And when you have ridden three days from the city last mentioned, between north-east and north, you come to a city called CHANDU,1 which was built by the Kaan now reigning.
He died in 1324, and was buried in San Lorenzo.The Travels of Marco Polo was dictated by Marco Polo to Rustichello da Pisa while both were prisoners of the Genova Republic.
Another sob tried to escape from Lenobia, but she pressed her lips together and forced her emotions under control. Satisfied, Lenobia turned away, drew two deep breaths, and sprinted into the mouth of the burning stables. He was wearing an untucked T-shirt that had obviously been thrown on hastily over his jeans. There is at this place a very fine marble Palace, the rooms of which are all gilt and painted with figures of men and beasts and birds, and with a variety of trees and flowers, all executed with such exquisite art that you regard them with delight and astonishment.Round this Palace a wall is built, inclosing a compass of 16 miles, and inside the Park there are fountains and rivers and brooks, and beautiful meadows, with all kinds of wild animals (excluding such as are of ferocious nature), which the Emperor has procured and placed there to supply food for his gerfalcons and hawks, which he keeps there in mew.
Rustichello translated it from Venetian Language to Tuscan dialect, subsequently embellished, copied by hand and adapted by many others.
It documents his father's journey to meet the Kublai Khan, who asked them to become ambassadors, and communicate with the pope.
This he does for diversion.Moreover [at a spot in the Park where there is a charming wood] he has another Palace built of cane, of which I must give you a description. Marco apparently wrote of his extensive travels throughout Asia on behalf of the Khan, and their eventual return after 15000 miles (24000 km) and 24 years of adventures.Their pioneering journey inspired Christopher Columbus and others.
Marco Polo's other legacies include Venice Marco Polo Airport, the Marco Polo sheep, and several books and films. He also had an influence on European cartography, leading to the introduction of the Fra Mauro map.
The construction of the Palace is so devised that it can be taken down and put up again with great celerity; and it can all be taken to pieces and removed whithersoever the Emperor may command.
When erected, it is braced [against mishaps from the wind] by more than 200 cords of silk."The Polo party left Venice in 1271.

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