marți, 25 octombrie 2011

CAPCANA MPORTALA, Volumul 11 din seria VAMPIRII SUDULUI de Charlaine Harris

In Bon Temps e primavara, iar pentru Sookie Stackhouse, o chelnerita telepata, se va dovedi un anotimp in care i se vor dezvalui numeroase secrete… fapt care-i va schimba fundamental viata… Sookie este martora la un atentat comis cu o sticla inflamabila asupra barului in care lucreaza. Vina este aruncata asupra anti-teriantropii din zona, insa Sookie si Sam banuiesc pe altcineva si pleaca in cautarea vinovatului, dorind sa afle motivul atacului. Dar talentul lui Sookie de a atrage necazuri se arata inca o data, lucrurile devenind complicate. Cu toate ca nu poate sa citeasca gandurile vampirilor, Sookie il stie prea bine pe iubitul ei Eric si pe "fiica" acestuia, Pam. Ea isi da seama ca ei vor sa comploteze impotriva actualului lor stapan si, treptat, Sookie este ademenita in aceasta lupta care e dovedeste mult mai grea decat pare. Prinsa in acest joc al vampirilor, ea descopera ca nu este decat un simplu pion si ca pe tabla de sah a aparut o noua regina.

„Harris este o maestra in construirea lumilor paranormale, pe care le conecteaza cu umor la lumea noastra.” – Tulsa World

„O descriere vie, subtila si amuzanta a vietii din Sudul Americii.” – Entertainment Weekly

„O incantatoare serie politista despre vampiri.” – The Denver Post

„Actiune, povesti de dragoste si umor – o combinatie prin care Harris a creat o lume pe deplin functionala, cat se poate de apropiata de a noastra; fireste, cu exceptia vampirilor si a celorlalte creaturi supranaturale.” – The Toronto Star

Cu atat de multe critici bune, ce mai asteptam? Mister, suspans si daruire in noul volum din seria "Vampirii Sudului". Spor la citit!>:D<

miercuri, 12 octombrie 2011

Noutati #10

I.PRECIZARI

Se pare ca vor aparea unele schimbari in cadrul "Surprizelor de miercuri" care se vor numi de acum "Surprizele din prima miercuri din fiecare luna".Mdaaa... stiu!E trist, dar asta e.Oricum sa va zic si motivele acestei schmbari:
1.Frecventa foarte mare de noutati risca sa duca la o supraaglomerare cu informatii si la o eficienta scazuta in asimilarea lor.
2.Se pare ca ritmul saptamanal de prezentare a informatiilor duce la o banalizare a lor si fiind obisnuiti sa primim in fiecare saptamana cate o serie noua nu vom mai putea sa apreciem cu adevarat fiecare carte si eforturile editurii.Si personal chiar le dau dreptate.
3.Tot abundenta informatiilor duce la scaderea activitatii blogurulor in general deoarece nu se mai publica nimic altceva decat stiri copy-paste de pe Leda.Iar ei vor sa vada activitate pe blogurile pe care le sponsorizeaza si nu numai.
4.Ultimul motiv se pare ca este perioada imediat urmatoare care se anunta foarte incarcata din punct de vedere editorial pentru cei de la Leda.

Cam astea sunt motivele si unele chiar sunt foarte intemeiate si le dau dreptate asa ca mie imi convine.Cu toate ca poate(SIGUR!) o sa-mi fie dor de aceste miercuri din fiecare aptamana dar cred ca este mai bine cum au hotarat ei.


II. PROMOŢII ÎN DIVERSE REŢELE DE DISTRIBUŢIE

Fata de postarea de saptamana trecuta nu exista decat o noua promotie si anume „Promoţia 2+1 cadou la toate cărţile LEDA” (şi nu numai, fiindcă se aplică şi la toate cărţile CORINT JUNIOR şi CORINT, ce mai, la toate cărţile grupului!) care se desfasoara in reteaua de  librarii Carturesti (din Bucureşti, Timişoara, Braşov, Constanţa, Iaşi, Cluj, Arad şi Suceava) şi pe online-ul lor:
  1. http://librarie.carturesti.ro/promotii/editura-leda-2-1-cadou-1177/
  2.  http://librarie.carturesti.ro/promotii/corint-junior-2-1-cadou-1178/
  3.  http://librarie.carturesti.ro/promotii/editura-corint-2-1-1176  
 III. APARIŢII

Stiu ca asteptati vesti in legatura cu colaborarea editurii cu revista Bravo asa ca iat-o: se pare ca vor continua distributia seriei Vampirii Sudului/Trueblood de Charlaine Harris cu inca 2 volume.Nu-i minunat???Apoi, in functie de vanzari se va lua o decizie in privinta celorlalte volume.Un indemn din partea Leda: „Cumpăraţi, cumpăraţi şi iar cumpăraţi!”

P.S.:O serie noua in postarea urmatoare care tine tot de "Surprizele de miercuri" !




NIGHT HUNTRESS de Jeaniene Frost

O noua serie va aparea la LEDA in 2012, Nigh Hunteress promite actiune si suspans pe masura titlului. Eroina este Catherine Crawfield, pe scurt Cat, o fiinta pe jumatate vampir care este in cautarea tatului ei. Ca sa il gaseasca ea incepe sa vaneze morti-vii, dar ajunge sa fie capturata de Bones, un vampir vanator de recompense si este obligata sa incheie un parteneriat cu acesta. De-a lungul parteneriatului ea incepe sa se indragosteasca de el, dar ajung sa se desparta in ciuda pasiunii arzatoare dintre ei.
Dupa asta, Cat este angajata de catre guvern sa vaneze, oficial, mortii-vii, devenind astfel Agent Special Cat Crawfield. Bones, fostul ei iubit ( sexy si periculos :> ), a invatat-o multe tehnici de lupta pe care ea inca le mai foloseste, dar Cat devine in curand tinta unor tentative de asasinat si atunci Bones revine alaturi de ea.
Acum viata lui Cat ar trebui sa fie minunata, alaturi de iubitul ei, dar oricat de mult a incercat sa-si pastreze adevarata identitate ascunsa, ea este deconspirata si ajunge in mare pericol. Pasiune, suspans si actiune.. componentele de baza a unei carti de succes. Vom vedea daca NIGHT HUNTERESS le are in sfarsitul primului trimestru al anului viitor. Corpetile sunt grozave iar editura LEDA ar dori sa le pastreze. Sper ca aceasta serie sa fie pe masura asteptarilor! Ramaneti aproape pentru stiri noi >:D< !

marți, 11 octombrie 2011

Precomandati

Nu sunt adepta horoscoapelor sau a lucrurilor de genul asta, dar astazi se pare ca este o zi cu noroc.Ieri la scoala s-a intamplat sa prind la mana o revista si sa-mi citesc si horoscopul, unde am aflat ca printre zilele mele bune din aceasta luna se numara si ziua de astazi, 11 octombrie.Si chiar asa este pentru ca de indata ce am ajuns acasa si am intrat pe blogul editurii Leda am descoperit linkul de precomandare pentru Jurnalele vampirilor 7 - Miez de noapte - o carte pe care o astept de multa vreme si pe care mi-o doresc foarte tare. Daca o comandati acum o veti lua cu 20% reducere asa ca nu mai stati pe ganduri.Precomandati de AICI.

ORFANI ÎN BROOKLYN de Jonathan Lethem

Aceasta postare nu este tocmai o stire deoarece cartea este aparuta mai demult, dar acum are reducere de 20% pe site-ul editurii LEDA. Cartea a fost declarata 'Cel mai bun roman politist din ultima vreme' de catre publicatia Maxim si cel mai bun roman al anului 1999. Aceasta carte se mai poate lauda si cu NATIONAL BOOK CRITICS CIRCLE AWARD 1999 si GOLD DAGGERAWARD 2000. Eroul cartii este Lionel Essrog, un orfan cu sindromul Tourette, locuitor al Brooklynului, care masacreaza in fel si chip limba engleza din cauza bolii sale. Ca sa castige bani, este nevoit sa lucreze impreuna cu trei veterani de la Orfelinatul pentru baieti St Vincent pentru mafiotul Frank Minna, la firma sa de detectivi. Traieste foarte bine alaturi de Frank, dar cand acesta este injunghiat mortal, unul din colegii lui Lionel este acuzat si trimis in inchisoare, pe cand cei ramasi se lupta se ii ocupe locul lui Frank.Sotia lui Frank pleaca din oras si viata lui Lionel, care cu greu reuseste sa poarte o conversatie normala, devine groaznica. Acum el incearca sa elucideze misterul crimei. Orfani in Brooklyn este un tribut adus povestilor clasice cu detectivi. „O carte remarcabila… Orfani în Brooklyn este, printre altele, o poveste despre orfani, o satira a spiritului Zen din metropola newyorkeza si o istorie detectivista incarcata de mister.” – TIME OUT NEW YORK Detalii:
  • nr. de pagini: 464
  • dimensiuni: 13x20 cm
  • pret: 39,90 lei (fara reducere)
Eu zic ca merita, deci spor la citit!>:D<

joi, 6 octombrie 2011

SHADOW FALLS de C.C. Hunter

Mister, romantism si prietenie adevarata, acestea sunt cuvintele care ar descrie noua trilogie de la editura LEDA. Shadow Falls este o tabara bine ascunsa in inima padurii din orasul Fallen. Kylie Galen este eroina acestei noi serii, o fata care nu are o viata atat de frumoasa in ultima perioada: parintii divorteaza, prietenul o paraseste, bunica ei moare iar ea are sentimentul ca cineva o urmareste pas cu pas. Aceasta presimtire o aduce in final pe Kylie in cabinetul unui psihiatru. Acesta este cel care o va trimite pe Kylie in tabara Shadow Falls. La inceput, atat Kylie cat si parintii ei cred ca tabara este un loc pentru copii cu probleme, dar aceasta s dovedeste a fi o tabara pentru fiinte supranaturale: vampiri, varcolaci, zane, vrajitoare si creaturi ce isi schimba infatisarea, iar conducatorul taberei cred ca si Kylie este o fiinta supranaturala. Aventurile ei le veti putea citi in primul volum din aceasta serie: Born At Midnight. In al doilea volum, Awake At Dawn, Kylie incepe sa se acomodeze cu tabara si sa descopere ce poate face cu adevarat cu puterile ei supranaturale. Dar renunta la cautarea raspunsurilor fiind presata de insistenele unei fantome care vrea sa o previna de moartea iminenta a unei persoane dragi, de un vampir care comite crima dupa crima si de al saselea simt al ei care ii spune ca pe urmele ei se afla cineva. Ce inrautateste si mai mult situatia este faptul ca Derek incepe sa dea inapoi tocmai in momentul in care Kylie vrea sa ii daruiasca inima cu adevarat. Ea incepe sa se simta foarte tulburata cand Lucas, un varcolac de care o leaga un trecut ascuns, revine in peisaj. Gasind un moment de liniste, Kylie vrea sa profite de weekend-ul petrecut cu mama ei, dar se pare ca acela va fi momentul in care va trebui sa ia o decizie, pentru ca cineva din lumea supranaturalului are planuri in ceea ce o priveste, iar Kylie trebuie sa se straduiasca sa ajunga inapoi in tabara in viata. Asteptam pentru in editia in romana pentru a vedea continuarea aventurilor din Shadow Falls. Al treilea volum se numeste Taken At Dusk dar inca nu are o descriere asa ca vom reveni asupra acesetei carti, poate chiar a seriei. Adminul Leda compara aceasta serie cu deja consacratele Nu plange sub clar de luna, Mai las-o moale cu fantomele, Vampirii din Morganville si Fortele raului absolut. In America, primul volum s-a vadut la debut cu 20% mai mult decat Semnul, primul volum din seria Casa noptii. Deci asteptam cu sufletul la gura aceasta noua serie. Copertile sunt minunate, mie una imi plac foarte mult! Multumim LEDA pentru inca o serie fabuloasa! >:D<

miercuri, 5 octombrie 2011

Noutati #9

I. PROMOŢII ÎN DIVERSE REŢELE

A.Dupa cum ati putut vedea int-o postare de mai devreme, pana la sfarsitul lunii puteti achizitiona de la editura Leda, toata seria "Academia vampirilor" de Richelle Mead.Reducerea este de 50%, iar transportul este gratuit.: http://www.ledabooks.ro/Promo_AcademiaVampirilor/.

B.In hypermarketuri puteti gasi promotii la Cora, cu carti la 13 lei - http://www.cora.ro/index.php?sectiune=002&categorie=x&p=sql_002_00&md=x&smd=0000000038#/16/ , iar in Carrefour puteti gasi alte 6 carti fantasy Corint Junior.Sunt carti pe care le puteati gasi si in promotia de pe site, cea pana la 30 septembrie, asa ca daca nu v-ati comandat atunci puteti face o plimbare pana la Carrefour sa le luati.

C.Si in tara se desfasoara mai multe promotii.Aveti aici o lista cu cele mai importante:
  • Libris Braşov, 30% reducere la toate cărţile Leda şi 35% reducere la 20 de titluri fantasy şi urban fantasy Corint Junior;
  • De asemenea, pe Fantasy Leda sunt reduceri de 30% la Sedcom Suceava (Librăriile Alexandria), Librăria Corina din Arad, One Distribution în Cluj, Iaşi şi Timişoara, Librăria Esotera din Timişoara, Librăriile Mara Libris din Baia Mare, Columb din Piteşti, valabile până pe 31 octombrie
  • Promoţii cu 20% reduceri la Fantasy Leda se derulează şi în librăriile Sedcom Iaşi şi Prolibris Botoşani, valabile tot până pe 31 octombrie.
II. APARIŢII

Daca cumva nu v-ati luat al doilea volum din Vampirii Sudului - Moartea la Dallas - de Charlaine Harris ar trebui sa dati fuga cat mai repede la chiosc si sa o cumparati pentru ca se pare ca vanzarile merg chiar foarte bine asa ca Bravo a anuntat ca se vor mai gandi in legatura cu distributia cartilor dupa ce vor vedea cum au decurs vanzarile la volumul 2.Oricum ar fi, nu uitati ca saptamana viitoare apare volumul 3 - Clubul mortilor.


III. BLOGURI SPONSORIZATE

Acum cateva zile a aparut o lista cu 5 bloguri care vor primi sponsorizare din partea editurii Leda, dar din cauza catorva neintelegeri si altele se pare ca acum avem o noua lista  revizuita, corectata si completa:

  1. http://beauty-fantasies.blogspot.com/
  2. http://bibliophilemystery.blogspot.com/
  3. http://fan-fic-twilight.blogspot.com/
  4. http://www.love-for-books.blogspot.com/
  5. http://alexa700.wordpress.com/
  6. http://pustoaica-scrie.blogspot.com/
  7. http://cartepentrumine.blogspot.com/
  8. http://d3sprecarti.wordpress.com/
  9. http://booktownlover.blogspot.com/
  10. http://aayodelia.wordpress.com
Asta e lista.Deocamdata noi nu ne aflam pe ea, dar monitorizarea blogurilor continua asa ca speram ca vom ajunge si noi pe ea.Bineinteles vom avea nevoie de ajutorul vostru, sa ne urmariti si sustineti in continuare.In orice caz, vreau sa-i felicit pe cei care se afla pe lista si sa o tina tot asa!

IV. CĂRŢI/SERII NOI

Se pare ca vom avea o noua serie la Leda si anume SHADOW FALLS de C.C. Hunter.Despre aceasta vom putea afla mai multe detalii in zilele urmatoare.

Astea au fost surprizele.Ramaneti aproape!>:D<

Promotie Leda

Pana pe 31 octombrie puteti cumpara seria Academia Vampirilor la un pret promotional.Cartile sunt cu 50% mai ieftine fata de pretul initial asa ca daca nu le aveti puteti sa le achizitionati pana la sfarsitul lunii.

marți, 4 octombrie 2011

Cod rosu: Silence de Becca Fitzpatrick

Hei, lume! Cautam ceva pe net si am descoperit accidental o stire bomba! A treia carte din seria Hush Hush de Becca Fitzpatrick a aparut astazi, 4 octombrie in America. Aici aveti primul capitol din Silence:

Even before I opened my eyes, I knew I was in danger.

I stirred at the soft crunch of footsteps drawing closer. A dim flicker of sleep remained, dulling my focus. I was flat on my back, a chill seeping through my shirt.

My neck was crooked at a painful angle, and I opened my eyes. Thin stones loomed out of the blue-black fog. For a strange suspended moment, an image of crooked teeth came to mind, and then I saw them for what they really were. Gravestones.

I tried to push myself up to sitting, but my hands slipped on the wet grass. Fighting the haze of sleep still curled around my mind, I rolled sideways off a half-sunken grave, feeling my way through the vapor. The knees of my pants soaked up dew as I crawled between the haphazardly placed graves and monuments. Mild recognition hovered, but it was a side thought; I couldn't bring myself to focus through the excruciating pain radiating inside my skull.

I crawled along a wrought-iron fence, tamping down a layer of decaying leaves that had been years in the making. A ghoulish howl drifted down from above, and while it sent a shudder through me, it wasn't the sound I was most frightened of. The footsteps trampled over the grass behind me, but whether they were near or far I couldn't tell. A shout of pursuit cut through the mist, and I hurried my pace. I knew instinctively that I had to hide, but I was disoriented; it was too dark to see clearly, the eerie blue fog casting spells before my eyes.

In the distance, trapped between two walls of spindly and overgrown trees, a white stone mausoleum glowed through the night. Rising to my feet, I ran toward it.

I slipped between two marble monuments, and when I came out on the other side, he was waiting for me. A towering silhouette, his arm raised to strike. I tripped backward. As I fell, I realized my mistake: He was made of stone. An angel raised on a pediment, guarding the dead. I might have smothered a nervous laugh, but my head collided against something hard, jarring the world sideways. Darkness encroached on my vision.

I couldn't have been out for long. When the stark black of unconsciousness faded, I was still breathing hard from the exertion of running. I knew I had to get up, but I couldn't remember why. So I lay there, the icy dew mingling with the warm sweat of my skin. At long last I blinked, and it was then that the nearest headstone sharpened into focus. The engraved letters of the epitaph snapped into single-file lines.

Harrison Grey

A devoted husband and father

Died March 16, 2008

I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out. Now I understood the familiar shadow that had lurked over my shoulder since waking up minutes ago. I was in Coldwater's city cemetery. At my dad's gravesite.

A nightmare, I thought. I haven't really woken yet. This is all just a horrible dream.

The angel watched me, his chipped wings unfurled behind him, his right arm pointing across the cemetery. His expression was carefully detached, but the curve of his lips was more wry than benevolent. For one moment, I was almost able to trick myself into believing he was real and I wasn't alone.

I smiled at him, then felt my lip quiver. I dragged my sleeve along my cheekbone, wiping away tears, though I didn't remember starting to cry. I desperately wanted to climb into his arms, feeling the beat of his wings on air as he flew us over the gates and away from this place.

The resumed sound of footsteps pulled me out of my stupor. They were faster now, crashing through the grass.

I turned toward the sound, bewildered by the bob of light twinkling in and out of the misty darkness. Its beam rose and fell to the cadence of the footsteps—crunch . . . sweep . . . crunch . . . sweep—

A flashlight.

I squinted when the light came to a stop between my eyes, dazzling me blind. I had the terrible realization that I definitely wasn't dreaming.

"Lookie here," a man's voice snarled, hidden behind the glare of light. "You can't be here. Cemetery is closed."

I turned my face away, specks of light still dancing behind my eyelids.

"How many others are there?" he demanded.

"What?" My voice was a dry whisper.

"How many more are here with you?" he continued more aggressively. "Thought you'd come out and play night games, did you? Hide-and-seek, I reckon? Or maybe Ghosts in the Graveyard? Not on my watch, you aren't!"

What was I doing here? Had I come to visit my dad? I fished through my memory, but it was disturbingly empty. I couldn't remember coming to the cemetery. I couldn't remember much of anything. It was as if the whole night had been ripped out from under my feet.

Worse, I couldn't remember this morning.

I couldn't remember dressing, eating, school. Was it even a school day?

Momentarily shoving my panic deep down, I concentrated on orienting myself physically and accepted the man's outstretched hand. As soon as I was sitting upright, the flashlight glared at me again. "How old are you?" he wanted to know.

Finally something I knew for certain. "Sixteen." Almost seventeen. My birthday was coming up in August.

"What in the Sam Hill are you doing out here by yourself? Don't you know it's past curfew?"

I looked around helplessly. "I—"

"You ain't a runaway, are you? Just tell me you've got someplace to go."

"Yes." The farmhouse. At the sudden recollection of home, my heart lifted, followed by the sensation of my stomach plummeting to my knees. Out after curfew? How long after? I tried unsuccessfully to shut out the image of my mom's enraged expression when I walked through the front door.

"Does 'yes' got an address?"

"Hawthorne Lane." I stood, but swayed violently when blood rushed to my head. Why couldn't I remember how I'd gotten here? Surely I'd driven. But where had I parked the Fiat? And where was my handbag? My keys?

"Been drinking?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

I shook my head.

The beam of the flashlight had slipped marginally off my face, when suddenly it was square between my eyes yet again.

"Hold on a second," he said, a note of something I didn't like slipping into his voice. "You're not that girl, are you? Nora Grey," he blurted, as if my name was a knee-jerk response.

I retreated a step. "How—do you know my name?"

"The TV. The reward. Hank Millar posted it."

Whatever he said next floated past. Marcie Millar was the closest thing I had to an archenemy. What did her dad have to do with this?

"They've been looking for you since end of June."

"June?" I repeated, a drop of panic splattering inside me. "What are you talking about? It's April." And who was looking for me? Hank Millar? Why?

"April?" He eyed me queerly. "Why, girlie, it's September."

September? No. It couldn't be. I would know if sophomore year had ended. I would know if summer vacation had come and gone. I'd woken up a mere handful of minutes ago, disoriented, yes, but not stupid.

But what reason did he have to lie?

With the flashlight lowered, I looked him over, getting my first full picture. His jeans were stained, his facial hair tufted from days without a razor, his fingernails long and black under the tips. He looked an awful lot like the vagabonds who wandered the railroad tracks and shacked up by the river during the summer months. They were known to carry weapons.

"You're right, I should be getting home," I said, backing away, brushing my hand against my pocket. The familiar bump of my cell phone was missing. Same with my car keys.

"Now just where do you think you're going?" he asked, coming after me.

My stomach cramped at his sudden movement, and I broke into a run. I raced in the direction the stone angel pointed, hoping it led to a south gate. I would have used the north gate, the one I was familiar with, but it would have required me to run toward the man, instead of away. The ground cut away beneath my feet, and I stumbled downhill. Branches scraped my arms; my shoes slapped against the uneven and rocky ground.

"Nora!" the man shouted.

I wanted to shake myself for telling him I lived on Hawthorne Lane. What if he followed me?

His stride was longer, and I heard him tramping behind me, closing in. I flung my arms wildly, beating back the branches that sank like claws into my clothes. His hand clamped my shoulder, and I swung around, batting it away. "Don't touch me!"

"Now hold on a minute. I told you about the reward, and I aim to get it."

He lunged for my arm a second time, and on a shot of adrenaline, I drove my foot into his shin.

"Uuhn!" He doubled over, clutching his lower leg.

I was shocked by my violence, but I didn't have any other choice. Staggering back a few steps, I cast a hasty look around, trying to get my bearings. Sweat dampened my shirt, slinking down my backbone, causing every hair on my body to stand tall. Something was off. Even with my groggy memory, I had a clear map of the cemetery in my head—I'd been here countless times to visit my dad's grave—but while the cemetery felt familiar, down to every last detail including the overwhelming smell of burning leaves and stale pond water, something about its appearance was off.

And then I put my finger on it.

The maple trees were speckled with red. A sign of impending autumn. But that wasn't possible. It was April, not September. How could the leaves be changing? Was the man possibly telling the truth?

I glanced back to see the man limping after me, pressing his cell phone to his ear. "Yeah, it's her. I'm sure of it. Leaving the cemetery, heading south."

I plunged ahead with renewed fear. Hop the fence. Find a well-lit, well-populated area. Call the police. Call Vee—

Vee. My best and most trusted friend. Her house was closer than mine. I'd go there. Her mom would call the police. I'd describe to them what the man looked like, and they'd track him down. They'd make sure he left me alone. Then they'd talk me back through the night, retracing my steps, and somehow the gaps in my memory would stitch back together and I'd have something to work with. I'd shake off this detached version of myself, this feeling of being suspended in a world that was mine but

rejecting me.

I stopped running only to hoist myself over the cemetery fence. There was a field one block up, just on the other side of Wentworth Bridge. I'd cross it and weave my way up the tree streets—Elm and Maple and Oak—cutting through alleys and side yards until I was safe inside Vee's house.

I was hurrying toward the bridge when the sharp sound of a siren wailed around the corner, and a pair of headlights pinned me in place. A blue Kojak light was attached to the roof of the sedan, which screeched to a halt on the far side of the bridge.

My first instinct was to run forward and point the police officer in the direction of the cemetery, describing the man who'd grabbed me, but as my thoughts came around, I was filled with dread.

Maybe he wasn't a police officer. Maybe he was trying to look like one. Anyone could get their hands on a Kojak light. Where was his squad car? From where I stood, squinting through his windshield, he didn't appear to be in uniform.

All these thoughts tumbled through me in a hurry.

I stood at the foot of the sloping bridge, gripping the stone wall for support. I was sure the maybe-officer had seen me, but I moved into the shadows of the trees bowing over the river's edge anyway. From my peripheral vision, the black water of the Went-

worth River glinted. As kids, Vee and I had crouched under this very bridge, catching crawdads from the riverbank by inserting sticks speared with hotdog pieces into the water. The crawdads had fastened their claws to the hotdog, refusing to let go even when we lifted them out of the river and shook them loose in a bucket.

The river was deep at the center. It was also well hidden, snaking through undeveloped property where no one had forked out money to install streetlights. At the end of the field, the water rushed on toward the industrial district, past retired factories, and out to sea.

I briefly wondered if I had it in me to jump off the bridge. I was terrified of heights and the sensation of falling, but I knew how to swim. I only had to make it into the water . . .

A car door shut, yanking me back to the street. The man in the maybe-police car had stepped out. He was all mob: curly dark hair, and dressed formally in a black shirt, black tie, black slacks.

Something about him slapped my memory. But before I could truly grasp it, my memory slammed shut and I was as lost as ever.

An assortment of twigs and branches littered the ground. I bent down, and when I straightened, I was holding a stick half as thick as my arm.

The maybe-officer pretended not to see my weapon, but I knew he had. He pinned a police badge to his shirt, then raised his hands level with his shoulders. I'm not going to hurt you, the gesture said.

I didn't believe him.

He sauntered a few steps forward, taking care not to make any sudden movements. "Nora. It's me." I flinched when he spoke my name. I'd never heard his voice before, and that made my heart pound hard enough that I felt it clear up around my ears. "Are you hurt?"

I continued to watch him with growing anxiety, my mind darting in multiple directions. The badge could easily be fake. I'd already decided the Kojak light was. But if he wasn't police, who was he?

"I called your mom," he said, climbing the gradual slope of the bridge. "She's going to meet us at the hospital."

I didn't drop the stick. My shoulders rose and fell with every breath; I could feel air panting between my teeth. Another bead of sweat slicked beneath my clothes.

"Everything's going to be okay," he said. "It's all over. I'm not going to let anybody hurt you. You're safe now."

I didn't like his long, easy stride or the familiar way he spoke to me.

"Don't come any closer," I told him, the sweat on my palms making it hard to grip the stick properly.

His forehead creased. "Nora?"

The stick wobbled in my hand. "How do you know my name?" I demanded, not about to let him know how scared I was. How much he scared me.

"It's me," he repeated, gazing straight into my eyes, as if he expected lights to coming blazing on. "Detective Basso."

"I don't know you."

He said nothing for a moment. Then tried a new approach. "Do you remember where you've been?"

I watched him warily. I moved deeper in my memory, looking down even the darkest and oldest corridors, but his face wasn't there. I had no recollection of him. And I wanted to remember him. I wanted something—anything—familiar to cling to, so I could make sense of a world that, from my vantage point, had been twisted to distortion.

"How did you get to the cemetery tonight?" he asked, tilting his head ever so slightly in that direction. His movements were cautious. His eyes were cautious. Even the line of his mouth was politic. "Did someone drop you off? Did you walk?" He waited. "I need you to tell me, Nora. This is important. What happened tonight?"

I'd like to know myself.

A wave of nausea rolled through me. "I want to go home." I heard a brittle clatter near my feet. Too late, I realized I'd dropped the stick. The breeze felt cold on my empty palms. I wasn't supposed to be here. The whole night was a huge mistake.

No. Not the whole night. What did I know of it? I couldn't remember the whole of it. My only starting point was a slice back in time, when I'd woken on a grave, cold and lost.

I drew up a mental picture of the farmhouse, safe and warm and real, and felt a tear trickle down the side of my nose.

"I can take you home." He nodded sympathetically. "I just need to take you to the hospital first."

I squeezed my eyes shut, hating myself for being reduced to crying. I couldn't think of a better or faster way to show him just how frightened I really was.

He sighed—the softest of sounds, as if he wished there were a way around the news he was about to deliver. "You've been missing for eleven weeks, Nora. Do you hear what I'm saying? Nobody knows where you've been the past three months. You need to be looked at. We need to make sure you're okay."

I stared at him without really seeing him. Tiny bells pealed in my ears but sounded very far off. Deep in my stomach I felt a lurch, but I tried to stuff the queasiness away. I'd cried in front of him, but I wasn't going to be sick.

"We think you were abducted," he said, his face unreadable. He'd closed the distance between us and now stood too close. Saying things I couldn't grasp. "Kidnapped."

I blinked. Just stood there and blinked.

A sensation grabbed my heart, tugging and twisting. My body went slack, tottering in the air. I saw the gold blur of the streetlights above, heard the river lapping under the bridge, smelled the exhaust from his running car. But it was all in the background. A dizzy afterthought.

With only that brief warning, I felt myself swaying, swaying. Falling into nothing.

I was unconscious before I hit the ground.

Nu-i asa ca e super tare? :X Inca ceva! Autoarea a anuntat ca va mai exista si o a patra carte, inca neintitulata. Becca a dezvaluit ca inca nu poate spune 'la revedere' acestor personaje si crede ca cele mai bune aventuri cu acesti protagonisti de-abia acum incep. Asa ca puneti-va centurile, ne asteapta o calatorie fabuloasa!

Vampirii Sudului/True Blood cu BRAVO si BRAVO!Girl

Nu rata aparitia volumului 2 din Vampirii Sudului/True Blood in editia de chiosc numai cu BRAVO si BRAVO!Girl. Moartea la Dallas este al doilea volumul din celebra serie a autoarei Charlaine Harris despre care The Christian Science Monitor afirma: Stilul lui Harris are un farmec si o naturalete care ne amintesc de Anne Tyler... este original si surprinzator. Trasaturile romanului gotic sporesc savoarea speciala a cartii. Aventura continua asadar in acest volum secund. Sookie Stackhouse isi foloseste talentele telepatice pentru a pleca in cautarea unui vampir disparut. Dupa o intreaga serie de aventuri dramatice, Sookie duce totul la bun sfarsit. Personajele cartii intra de multe ori in conflicte si dezlantuie adevarate jocuri ale mortii, indiferent de ce sunt: oameni sau vampiri. Nu ratati aceasta carte exceptioanla la doar 10,99 lei!