Genre: Young Adult (Paranormal)
Date Published: October 31, 2014
Publisher: Self
Constance Jerome wants nothing more than to make it through her senior year of high school without being noticed. But when her mother drops the world's biggest bombshell, flying under the radar just isn't in the cards. It turns out Constance is a necromancer—one of the few who can travel the realms of the dead. Apparently it runs in the family. And now there's a threat coming: another necromancer with plans to disturb the living and the dead, and Constance and her mother are the only ones who can stop him. If only they knew who he was. Or what exactly he was up to. A quiet senior year isn't an option, and Constance must race to stop a high school apocalypse before the balance between the living and the dead is overturned. Check out my review of this book!
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Genre: Young Adult (Paranormal)
Date Published: October 31, 2016
Publisher: Self
The faint, watery light filtered down through the gap between buildings above them, casting wavering shadows around them, and one of them reached out a long, narrow finger. The nail was long and beginning to curve, and the knuckle was knobby. Constance realized they had that strange pearly translucency about them, the same as the rest of the spirits. Why weren’t these spirits in line with the others? She almost took a step forward when one of them looked up at her.
“Alive,” it whispered in a soft voice that sounded like the drone of bees.
“Alive?” came another whisper, this one urgent.
“Yes, alive.” There was a hunger in the voice that chilled Constance, and she found her legs were leaden. As her heart began to pump frantically, one of the figures laughed.
“Do you hear that, brothers? Do hear that glorious sound?”
“A heart.”
“Yes, a beating heart.”
“It is music.”
“Sweet, sweet music.”
Life leeches. Wasn’t that the name her mother had used? Spirits that refused to line up and be sorted and instead hid in the shadows and the alleys, using the last life lingering around new spirits to try to escape a fate that they all must eventually face. Her own pulsing life must seem like an all-you-can-eat buffet to them. Wasn’t it her job as a necromancer to put them where they belonged? But where did they belong? Could she sing and compel them all to follow her like some deathly Pied Piper and then bring them to stand before the Book of Days? She had to, or they would be on her in a moment. She licked her lips—they were cold and tasted of dust. She would need to sing, but her throat felt coated in dust, and there was a hollow pit starting in her heart right where she felt coldest.
One of the spirits inched toward her, his footsteps nothing more than a hush hush on the pavement. She couldn’t tell how tall he was with the way his shoulders curled in on themselves. His lank hair covered his features and his hands hung limp at his sides, but still he glided toward her, pulled to her like a moth that finds a flame irresistible, and she couldn’t look away.
“Alive,” it whispered in a soft voice that sounded like the drone of bees.
“Alive?” came another whisper, this one urgent.
“Yes, alive.” There was a hunger in the voice that chilled Constance, and she found her legs were leaden. As her heart began to pump frantically, one of the figures laughed.
“Do you hear that, brothers? Do hear that glorious sound?”
“A heart.”
“Yes, a beating heart.”
“It is music.”
“Sweet, sweet music.”
Life leeches. Wasn’t that the name her mother had used? Spirits that refused to line up and be sorted and instead hid in the shadows and the alleys, using the last life lingering around new spirits to try to escape a fate that they all must eventually face. Her own pulsing life must seem like an all-you-can-eat buffet to them. Wasn’t it her job as a necromancer to put them where they belonged? But where did they belong? Could she sing and compel them all to follow her like some deathly Pied Piper and then bring them to stand before the Book of Days? She had to, or they would be on her in a moment. She licked her lips—they were cold and tasted of dust. She would need to sing, but her throat felt coated in dust, and there was a hollow pit starting in her heart right where she felt coldest.
One of the spirits inched toward her, his footsteps nothing more than a hush hush on the pavement. She couldn’t tell how tall he was with the way his shoulders curled in on themselves. His lank hair covered his features and his hands hung limp at his sides, but still he glided toward her, pulled to her like a moth that finds a flame irresistible, and she couldn’t look away.
Check out my reviews of other books by this author!
Annie Oldham grew up with an insatiable desire to read and came away with the insatiable desire to write. Away from her writing, she's the mother of the three most adorable girls in the world, has the best husband in the world, and lives in the hottest place in the world (not really, but Phoenix sure feels like it).
To read more about the author and her books, visit Annie Oldham's website. You can also find her on Goodreads, Facebook and Twitter.
Also, don't miss my interview with Annie Oldham!
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