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Untamed
Untamed
Untamed
Untamed

Untamed (House of Night, Book 4)

Product ID : 25849201


Galleon Product ID 25849201
UPC / ISBN 0312379838
Shipping Weight 0.75 lbs
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Binding: Paperback
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Model
Manufacturer Cast, P. C./ Cast, Kristin
Shipping Dimension 8.19 x 5.39 x 1.1 inches
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Brand St. Martin's Griffin
Edition 1
Number Of Pages 352
Package Quantity 1
Publication Date 2008-09-23
Release Date 2008-09-23
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Untamed Features

  • Recommended readers 13 and older.


About Untamed

Product Description Life sucks when your friends are pissed at you. Just ask Zoey Redbird – she's become an expert on suckiness. In one week she has gone from having three boyfriends to having none, and from having a close group of friends who trusted and supported her, to being an outcast. Speaking of friends, the only two Zoey has left are undead and unMarked. And Neferet has declared war on humans, which Zoey knows in her heart is wrong. But will anyone listen to her? Zoey's adventures at vampyre finishing school take a wild and dangerous turn as loyalties are tested, shocking true intentions come to light, and an ancient evil is awakened in PC and Kristin Cast's spellbinding fourth House of Night novel. (Recommended for readers age 13 and older) About the Author P.C. Cast is an award-winning fantasy and paranormal romance author, as well as an experienced speaker and teacher. With her daughter Kristin Cast, she is the author of the House of Night novels, including Awakened, Burned and Hunted. Cast was born in the Midwest, and as a girl fell in love with mythology. After high school, she joined the U.S. Air Force, then taught high school for 15 years before retiring to write full time. Cast's novels are New York Times bestsellers and have been awarded the Oklahoma Book Award, YALSA Quick Pick for Reluctant Readers, Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Award, the Prism, Holt Medallion, Daphne du Maurier, Booksellers' Best, and the Laurel Wreath. Ms. Cast lives in Oklahoma, where she is a member of the Oklahoma Writers' Hall of Fame. She splits her time between her ranch and midtown Tulsa where she has a home just down the street from the House of Night... Kristin Cast has won awards for her poetry and journalism. She also lives in Oklahoma, where she attends college in Tulsa. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. UNTAMED (Chapter 1) The caw! caw! cawing! of one stupid crow kept me up all night. (Well, more accurately, all day—’cause, you know, I’m a vampyre fledgling and we have that whole issue of day and night being turned around.) Anyway, I got zero sleep last night/day. But my crappy nonsleep is currently the easiest thing to deal with since life really sucks when your friends are pissed at you. I should know. I’m Zoey Redbird, currently the undisputed Queen of Making My Friends Pissed Land. Persephone, the big sorrel mare who I could consider mine for as long as I lived at the House of Night, craned her head around and nuzzled my cheek. I kissed her soft muzzle and went back to brushing her sleek neck. Grooming Persephone always helped me think and made me feel better. And I definitely needed help with both of those things. “Okay, so, I’ve managed to avoid the Big Confrontation for two days, but that can’t continue,” I told the mare. “Yes, I know they’re in the cafeteria right now, eating dinner while they hang out together being all buddy-buddy and totally leaving me out.” Persephone snorted and went back to munching hay. “Yeah, I think they’re being jerks, too. Sure, I did lie to them, but it was mostly by omission. And, yeah, I kept some stuff from them. Mostly for their own good.” I sighed. Well, the stuff about Stevie Rae being undead was for their own good. The stuff about me having a thing with Loren Blake—Vampyre Poet Laureate and professor at the House of Night—well, that was more for my own good. “But still.” Persephone flicked an ear back to listen to me. “They’re being really judgmental.” Persephone snorted again. I sighed again. Crap. I couldn’t avoid them any longer. After giving the sweet mare one last pat, I walked slowly out of her stall to the tack room and put up the array of currycombs and mane/tail brushes I’d been using on her for the past hour. I breathed deeply of the leather and horse smell, letting the soothing mixture ease my nerves. Catching my reflection in the smooth glass window of the tack room, I automatically ran my fingers through my dark hair, trying to make it look not