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Book : Vespertine - Rogerson, Margaret

Modelo 3447711X
Fabricante o sello Margaret K. McElderry Books
Peso 0.57 Kg.
Precio:   $60,799.00
Si compra hoy, este producto se despachara y/o entregara entre el 13-05-2025 y el 21-05-2025
Descripción
-Titulo Original : Vespertine

-Fabricante :

Margaret K. McElderry Books

-Descripcion Original:

An international bestseller! From the New York Times bestselling author of Sorcery of Thorns and An Enchantment of Ravens comes a thrilling, “dark coming-of-age adventure” (Culturess) about a teen girl with mythic abilities who must defend her world against restless spirits of the dead.The spirits of the dead do not rest. Artemisia is training to be a Gray Sister, a nun who cleanses the bodies of the deceased so that their souls can pass on; otherwise, they will rise as ravenous, hungry spirits. She would rather deal with the dead than the living, who whisper about her scarred hands and troubled past. When her convent is attacked by possessed soldiers, Artemisia defends it by awakening an ancient spirit bound to a saint’s relic. It is a revenant, a malevolent being whose extraordinary power almost consumes her-but death has come, and only a vespertine, a priestess trained to wield a high relic, has any chance of stopping it. With all knowledge of vespertines lost to time, Artemisia turns to the last remaining expert for help: the revenant itself. As she unravels a sinister mystery of saints, secrets, and dark magic, Artemisia discovers that facing this hidden evil might require her to betray everything she believes-if the revenant doesn’t betray her first. Review “[An] atmospheric thrill that is sure to leave you ready for the next one.” Buzzfeed“Vespertine is far and away Rogerson’s best work yet, a dark coming-of-age adventure about faith, belief, and morality in many forms.” CulturessRogerson excels at creating fantasy worlds that feel lived in. Vespertine blends darkness, thrills and satisfying characterization for an engrossing fantasy tale. Book PageAmid escalating danger and an unfolding mystery, Rogerson unveils a grim and intriguing world with a rich, plot-relevant history inspired by late-medieval France....A satisfying, but open-ended resolution demands for the story to continue. A dark and enthralling journey. Kirkus Reviews“A splendidly dark story…and a plot that crackles with tension.” Shelf Awareness for Readers“Filled with atmospheric details…Rogerson deftly blends a coming-of-age tale and mythic quest in this dark fantasy.” Publishers Weekly About the Author Margaret Rogerson is the author of the New York Times bestsellers An Enchantment of Ravens, Sorcery of Thorns, and Vespertine. She has a bachelor’s degree in cultural anthropology from Miami University. When not reading or writing she enjoys sketching, gaming, making pudding, and watching more documentaries than is socially acceptable (according to some). She lives near Cincinnati, Ohio, beside a garden full of hummingbirds and roses. Visit her at MargaretRogerson . Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Chapter One ONE If I hadn’t come to the convent’s cemetery to be alone, I wouldn’t have noticed the silver gleam of the censer lying abandoned at the base of a tombstone. Every novice and sister carried one, a thurible on a chain to defend ourselves against the Dead, and I recognized this censer by its shape and its tracery of black tarnish as belonging to Sophia, one of the youngest novices, brought to the convent only last winter. When I crouched down and touched it, the metal still felt warm. I had to press my wrist against it to be sure, because my scarred hands weren’t good at telling temperature. I knew right away that Sophia hadn’t dropped it while climbing trees or playing among the tombstones. She wouldn’t have burned incense unless something had really frightened her; even children knew that incense was too precious to waste. I straightened and looked toward the chapel. A bitter wind whipped loose strands of my braid around my face, lashing tears from my eyes, so it took me a moment to locate the ravens sheltering beneath the eaves, huddled against the mossy gray stone. All of them were black, except for one. He sat apart from the rest, nervously preenin
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