Spotlight: Whisper the Dead by Alyxandra Harvey
I'm so stinking happy to be sharing this spotlight with you! I am a huge fan of this series and I can't wait to bring you guys a review of the book!
The Lovegrove Legacy #2
October 7th, 2014 by Bloomsbury
Cousins Gretchen, Emma, and Penelope are all dealing with what it means to be a Lovegrove. For Gretchen, it means she often feels like her head is going to explode. As a Whisperer, Gretchen constantly hears the whispers of other witches' spells. And while this does help her to know when one of her own spells is going wrong, the incessant buzzing and pain the whispers cause makes it difficult to use her gift.
But when something evil begins to menace Mayfair, Gretchen must find a way to master her power. Along with her cousins, a madcap named Moira, and the icy yet irresistible Tobias Lawless, Gretchen faces deadly threats and unimaginable loss in the hopes of preventing the terrible Greymalkin Sisters from rising again.
The second book in The Lovegrove Legacy trilogy, Whisper the Dead will leave readers spellbound.
Available at Amazon
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 cheek
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.
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?”
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.”
AHHHHH! Can you guys hardly stand it? I can't! I am DYING to read this! I can't wait to get my hands on a copy to share a review with you! What do you think?
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.
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