Star Wars Sale
 
 

Special Offers see all

Enter to WIN!

Weekly drawing for $100 credit. Subscribe to PowellsBooks.news for a chance to win.
Privacy Policy

More at Powell's


Recently Viewed clear list


The Powell's Playlist | June 18, 2014

Daniel H. Wilson: IMG The Powell’s Playlist: Daniel H. Wilson



Like many writers, I'm constantly haunting coffee shops with a laptop out and my headphones on. I listen to a lot of music while I write, and songs... Continue »
  1. $18.87 Sale Hardcover add to wish list

    Robogenesis

    Daniel H. Wilson 9780385537094

spacer

This item may be
out of stock.

Click on the button below to search for this title in other formats.


Check for Availability
Add to Wishlist

Hush, Hush (Hush, Hush Saga)

Hush, Hush (Hush, Hush Saga) Cover

ISBN13: 9781442465138
ISBN10: 1442465131
All Product Details

 

 

Excerpt

PROLOGUE

LOIRE VALLEY, FRANCE NOVEMBER 1565

CHAUNCEY WAS WITH A FARMER’S DAUGHTER ON the grassy banks of the Loire River when the storm rolled in, and having let his gelding wander in the meadow, was left to his own two feet to carry him back to the château. He tore a silver buckle off his shoe, placed it in the girl’s palm, and watched her scurry away, mud slinging on her skirts. Then he tugged on his boots and started for home.

Rain sheeted down on the darkening countryside surrounding the Château de Langeais. Chauncey stepped easily over the sunken graves and humus of the cemetery; even in the thickest fog he could find his way home from here and not fear getting lost. There was no fog tonight, but the darkness and onslaught of rain were deceiving enough.

There was movement along the fringe of Chauncey’s vision, and he snapped his head to the left. At first glance what appeared to be a large angel topping a nearby monument rose to full height. Neither stone nor marble, the boy had arms and legs. His torso was naked, his feet were bare, and peasant trousers hung low on his waist. He hopped down from the monument, the ends of his black hair dripping rain. It slid down his face, which was dark as a Spaniard’s.

Chauncey’s hand crept to the hilt of his sword. “Who goes there?”

The boy’s mouth hinted at a smile.

“Do not play games with the Duc de Langeais,” Chauncey warned. “I asked for your name. Give it.”

“Duc?” The boy leaned against a twisted willow tree. “Or bastard?”

Chauncey unsheathed his sword. “Take it back! My father was the Duc de Langeais. I’m the Duc de Langeais now,” he added clumsily, and cursed himself for it.

The boy gave a lazy shake of his head. “Your father wasn’t the old duc.”

Chauncey seethed at the outrageous insult. “And your father?” he demanded, extending the sword. He didn’t yet know all his vassals, but he was learning. He would brand the family name of this boy to memory. “I’ll ask once more,” he said in a low voice, wiping a hand down his face to clear away the rain. “Who are you?”

The boy walked up and pushed the blade aside. He suddenly looked older than Chauncey had presumed, maybe even a year or two older than Chauncey. “One of the Devil’s brood,” he answered.

Chauncey felt a clench of fear in his stomach. “You’re a raving lunatic,” he said through his teeth. “Get out of my way.”

The ground beneath Chauncey tilted. Bursts of gold and red popped behind his eyes. Hunched with his fingernails grinding into his thighs, he looked up at the boy, blinking and gasping, trying to make sense of what was happening. His mind reeled like it was no longer his to command.

The boy crouched to level their eyes. “Listen carefully. I need something from you. I won’t leave until I have it. Do you understand?”

Gritting his teeth, Chauncey shook his head to express his disbelief—his defiance. He tried to spit at the boy, but it trickled down his chin, his tongue refusing to obey him.

The boy clasped his hands around Chauncey’s; their heat scorched him and he cried out.

“I need your oath of fealty,” the boy said. “Bend on one knee and swear it.”

Chauncey commanded his throat to laugh harshly, but his throat constricted and he choked on the sound. His right knee buckled as if kicked from behind, though no one was there, and he stumbled forward into the mud. He bent sideways and retched.

“Swear it,” the boy repeated.

Heat flushed Chauncey’s neck; it took all his energy to curl his hands into two weak fists. He laughed at himself, but there was no humor. He had no idea how, but the boy was inflicting the nausea and weakness inside him. It would not lift until he took the oath. He would say what he had to, but he swore in his heart he would destroy the boy for this humiliation.

“Lord, I become your man,” Chauncey said venomously.

The boy raised Chauncey to his feet. “Meet me here at the start of the Hebrew month of Cheshvan. During the two weeks between new and full moons, I’ll need your service.”

“A … fortnight?” Chauncey’s whole frame trembled under the weight of his rage. “I am the Duc de Langeais!

“You are a Nephil,” the boy said on a sliver of a smile.

Chauncey had a profane retort on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it. His next words were spoken with icy venom. “What did you say?”

“You belong to the biblical race of Nephilim. Your real father was an angel who fell from heaven. You’re half mortal.” The boy’s dark eyes lifted, meeting Chauncey’s. “Half fallen angel.”

Chauncey’s tutor’s voice drifted up from the recesses of his mind, reading passages from the Bible, telling of a deviant race created when angels cast from heaven mated with mortal women. A fearsome and powerful race. A chill that wasn’t entirely revulsion crept through Chauncey. “Who are you?”

The boy turned, walking away, and although Chauncey wanted to go after him, he couldn’t command his legs to hold his weight. Kneeling there, blinking up through the rain, he saw two thick scars on the back of the boy’s naked torso. They narrowed to form an upside-down V.

“Are you—fallen?” he called out. “Your wings have been stripped, haven’t they?”

The boy—angel—whoever he was did not turn back. Chauncey did not need the confirmation.

“This service I’m to provide,” he shouted. “I demand to know what it is!”

The air resonated with the boy’s low laughter.

© 2009 Becca Fitzpatrick

What Our Readers Are Saying

Add a comment for a chance to win!
Average customer rating based on 1 comment:

pinkmonkey9644, February 29, 2012 (view all comments by pinkmonkey9644)
I read this book last year in High School. It was one of those books that i had to just keep reading, couldn't put it down! I am looking around to see the best place to buy my own copy of it. I got the second book for my birthday and can't read it without reliving everything from the first book!
Was this comment helpful? | Yes | No
(1 of 1 readers found this comment helpful)

Product Details

ISBN:
9781442465138
Publisher:
Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Subject:
Love & Romance
Author:
Fitzpatrick, Becca
Subject:
Children s Folk Tales-Mythical Creatures
Edition Description:
Trade paper
Publication Date:
20120522
Binding:
Paperback
Language:
English
Pages:
416
Dimensions:
8.25 x 5.5 in
Age Level:
from 14

Related Subjects

Children's » Folk Tales » Mythical Creatures
Children's » General
Children's » Paranormal Fiction
Young Adult » Fiction » Paranormal
Young Adult » Fiction » Social Issues » Dating and Sex
Young Adult » Fiction » Social Issues » Friendship
Young Adult » General

Hush, Hush (Hush, Hush Saga)
0 stars - 0 reviews
$ In Stock
Product details 416 pages Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers - English 9781442465138 Reviews:
"Synopsis" by , A special low-priced edition of the first book in the bestselling Hush, Hush Saga!

For Nora Grey, romance was not part of the plan. At least, not until Patch came along. With his easy smile and probing eyes, Nora is drawn to him against her better judgment. But after a series of terrifying encounters, Nora’s not sure who to trust—she can’t decide whether she should fall into Patch’s arms or run and hide from him. And when she tries to seek some answers, she finds herself near a truth more unsettling than any feeling Patch evokes. For Nora stands amid an ancient battle between the immortal and those who have fallen—and choosing the wrong side will cost her life.

spacer
spacer
  • back to top
Follow us on...




Powell's City of Books is an independent bookstore in Portland, Oregon, that fills a whole city block with more than a million new, used, and out of print books. Shop those shelves — plus literally millions more books, DVDs, and gifts — here at Powells.com.