This is the seventh outing with Jane Yellowrock. This time her best friend Molly has been taken by an unknown vampire. Evan and the kids come to Jane's place in New Orleans looking for her. Jane has no idea that Molly is missing because they have been out of communication since Jane killed Molly's evil sister. Jane and the gang start looking for Molly. At the same time, two of Katie's ladies go missing. Then Leo demands a meeting with Jane because he is planning a gather. All this weirdness comes together and Jane has to kick some badass butt! She has a lot of heartache in this story but learns a valuable lesson, which she teaches to Molly.
I love Jane and she gets better with each book! I cannot wait for the next book, Broken Soul, due in October.
From the author: When Evan Trueblood blows into town looking for his wife, Molly, he’s convinced that she came to see her best friend, Jane. But it seems like the witch made it to New Orleans and then disappeared without a trace.
Jane is ready to do whatever it takes to find her friend. Her desperate search leads her deep into a web of black magic and betrayal and into the dark history between vampires and witches. But the closer she draws to Molly, the closer she draws to a new enemy—one who is stranger and more powerful than any she has ever faced.
Insanity’s Not the Point
The crash shook the house, sounding as though the front wall had exploded. I whirled as my front door blew in, icy wind gusting with hurricane force. My ears popped. The bed skirt blew flat beneath the bed. My Beast rammed into me, the light going sharp and the colors bleaching into greens. Beast-fast, I grabbed two nine-mils from the bed, off-safetied, and chambered rounds into both. Raced into the foyer.
The door was open, the knob stuck into the wallboard, the hinges bent. The glass of its small window was busted all over the floor. Again.
Gale-force winds rushed through the open door. No one stood there. Icy air whirled through the house with a scream. I heard windows breaking in back. My ears popped again. A table in the living room tumbled over. Daylight patterned the wood floor off the foyer and reflected off broken glass shoved by the wind into the corner. Not vamps, I thought. But I’d been a target for blood-servants and scions for months. This wasn’t the first such attack, but it was the first that had gotten this far. And then the frigid cold tingled up my arms, blue and golden, flecked with darker sparks of frozen force. It smelled like the air over a glacier, fresh and full of suspended, preserved power. It circled over me, tried to latch on to my skin.