Heart's Blood

( 10 )


Master conjurer Grey Carteret regains consciousness in a London gutter next to a concerned street urchin and not far from the body of a man murdered by magic. Some fool is hoping to use murder to raise a demon. Arrested for the crime, Grey must rely on the street urchin for help. But the lad turns out to be a comely lass, and she wants something in exchange.

Pearl Parkin, a gently reared lady struggling to survive in London’s slums, sees magic as a way out of the life she finds ...

See more details below
Available through our Marketplace sellers.
Other sellers (Paperback)
  • All (27) from $1.99   
  • New (1) from $50.00   
  • Used (26) from $1.99   
Sort by
Page 1 of 1
Showing All
Note: Marketplace items are not eligible for any BN.com coupons and promotions
Seller since 2014

Feedback rating:



New — never opened or used in original packaging.

Like New — packaging may have been opened. A "Like New" item is suitable to give as a gift.

Very Good — may have minor signs of wear on packaging but item works perfectly and has no damage.

Good — item is in good condition but packaging may have signs of shelf wear/aging or torn packaging. All specific defects should be noted in the Comments section associated with each item.

Acceptable — item is in working order but may show signs of wear such as scratches or torn packaging. All specific defects should be noted in the Comments section associated with each item.

Used — An item that has been opened and may show signs of wear. All specific defects should be noted in the Comments section associated with each item.

Refurbished — A used item that has been renewed or updated and verified to be in proper working condition. Not necessarily completed by the original manufacturer.

Brand new.

Ships from: acton, MA

Usually ships in 1-2 business days

  • Standard, 48 States
  • Standard (AK, HI)
Page 1 of 1
Showing All
Sort by
Heart's Blood

Available on NOOK devices and apps  
  • NOOK Devices
  • NOOK HD/HD+ Tablet
  • NOOK
  • NOOK Color
  • NOOK Tablet
  • Tablet/Phone
  • NOOK for Windows 8 Tablet
  • NOOK for iOS
  • NOOK for Android
  • NOOK Kids for iPad
  • PC/Mac
  • NOOK for Windows 8
  • NOOK for PC
  • NOOK for Mac
  • NOOK Study
  • NOOK for Web

Want a NOOK? Explore Now

NOOK Book (eBook)
BN.com price


Master conjurer Grey Carteret regains consciousness in a London gutter next to a concerned street urchin and not far from the body of a man murdered by magic. Some fool is hoping to use murder to raise a demon. Arrested for the crime, Grey must rely on the street urchin for help. But the lad turns out to be a comely lass, and she wants something in exchange.

Pearl Parkin, a gently reared lady struggling to survive in London’s slums, sees magic as a way out of the life she finds herself trapped in. But blackmailing Grey into making her his apprentice has unexpected consequences. As they plunge into the hunt for the murderer, Pearl discovers that the things she once desperately wanted are not so important after all, and that she must risk her blood, her heart, and her very life to grasp the love she needs.

Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780765362513
  • Publisher: Doherty, Tom Associates, LLC
  • Publication date: 12/29/2009
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Pages: 418
  • Product dimensions: 4.10 (w) x 6.70 (h) x 1.20 (d)

Meet the Author

GAIL DAYTON wrote her first story at the tender age of nine, and she’s been writing ever since. A RITA finalist in 2002 for Best First Book, she won a Prism Award for Best Fantasy with The Barbed Rose in 2007. She lives with her husband on the Texas Gulf coast.

Read More Show Less

Read an Excerpt


GREY CARTERET WOKE in a foul mood.

One generally did when one woke lying face-down in a gutter reeking of things best left unmentioned, with no idea of how one arrived in said gutter. Particularly when one also woke feeling as if all the angels in heaven and the demons of hell had spent the entire previous night fighting across each of the 206 bones in one’s body. Even more particularly when such rude awakenings had been occurring with increasing frequency.

He groaned, which made the pain in his head crescendo with unfortunate familiarity, and he rolled over, which was worse. Every one of his battlefield of bones shattered.

Or they felt like it. Grey supposed they must still remain fastened together, since he could, after a fashion—the fashion of an ancient crone—move. He brought a hand to his face and wiped away the worst of the stinking muck, so that he dared open his eyes.

Nothing seemed to offer imminent catastrophe, given what his blurred vision could tell him. Little, save that he was in a dark, narrow, and more important, empty alleyway. So he shut them again.

He thought he ought to pause for a moment and count his blessings, since he apparently wasn’t in danger of dying in the next few moments. Not that he could stop it—death—in his current condition. Which led him back around to blessings and the counting thereof.

One, he was alive. Two, he was still reasonably well clothed, as it seemed he had retained his frock coat, which was a true blessing in the damp chill of a London October. Three, his bones were not actually—he didn’t think—broken, though his head felt decidedly shattered. The odd thing was, he didn’t remember drinking. Not last night.

Grey had decided, after too many recent mornings waking up like this, that he wouldn’t have any alcohol to drink. Not even a single "off to bed" brandy. He wouldn’t go out. He wouldn’t toddle around to any of his clubs. He would stay at home and work in his workroom. Had he changed his mind?

He would reason all that through later. The time had arrived to assemble himself and get the hell out of wherever he’d landed this time.

He crawled up the rather slimy brick wall beside him to a more-or-less sitting position, cracking an eye open again. He hoped the state of his vision was due to the lack of light in the alley, and not the state of his eyes. "I’ve lost another damned hat," he muttered.

"No, you ain’t."

Grey winced at the piercing voice right next to his aching ears, and turned to see his hat hovering a scant few inches beyond the end of his nose. Good thing he hadn’t opened both eyes. They’d have crossed.

He took the hat and settled it gingerly on his head. It hurt even his hair, but perhaps it would keep all the pieces of his head contained in a single whole.

"I got your stick, too," the same agonizing voice shrieked. "I watched ’em for ya, wouldn’t let no one pinch ’em, nor your coat neither. An’ I wouldn’t let ’em cosh ya nor shiv ya. I been watchin’ out for ya, guvnor."

Grey cracked open his other eye to acquire an accurate view of his walking stick. It took a moment for the two images to swim their way together and become one, so that he could know which stick to reach for.

The stick was attached to a surprisingly clean hand that sprouted from a wrist positively black with dirt. Grey squinted, trying to see the person beyond the hand and wrist. There was a checked cloth cap with a blurred face beneath. "Who the bloody hell are you? And where did you come from? You weren’t there before. I looked."

The silver-headed stick vanished, pulled back beyond Grey’s admittedly meager reach. "Wot kind o’ gratitude is that? After all I done for ya?"

The lad had a point. Grey assumed the creature was a lad, given the high-pitched voice and the trousers.

"Sorry," he said, since a gentleman never failed to offer apology when one was due—though everyone agreed Grey wasn’t much of a gentleman. "Foul mood. Bad head. Makes one a trifle cranky and forgetful of good manners." He took a deep breath so he could go on. "Thank you very much for watching over my person and my belongings."

"Weren’t nuffink."

"Now, give me my bloody stick and tell me who in blazes you are!" Grey couldn’t roar as he’d have liked to, given his head and the rest of his aching bones, but he did his best. It wasn’t as if he really wanted to know the boy’s name, except it seemed as if he ought to know who had done him such a favor.

"Cor, you ain’t got ’alf a temper." The boy eased a fraction closer and held the stick out, tip first, as if afraid to get any closer. Smart lad. Even if Grey wasn’t quite up to snuff at the moment.

"Foul mood. Remember?" He used the stick to haul himself to his feet. "Your name, young sir."


"Ah. Parkin. Yes, thank you." Grey’s eyes were beginning to focus more effectively. The lad was tall for eleven, or maybe twelve. He had delicate features beneath the grime coating his face. Poor lad.

Grey had suffered the same affliction at the same age, though he’d finally grown out of it. Mostly. These days, women called him beautiful.

Men gave him a wide berth. Partly because he’d long ago taught himself to fight viciously with any weapon at hand, and to hell with so-called "rules of honor." Primarily, though, they left him alone because as magister of the conjurer’s guild, he was the most powerful conjurer in all of England.

Who couldn’t keep from waking in odd places with no memory of how he arrived there. At least this time he’d acquired a protector.

Grey searched his pockets, but they were empty of coin, as well as wallet or watch. He sighed. "I suppose it was too much to expect that you might have guarded my pockets as well as my person."

"If your pockets’re empty, they was emptied ’fore I found ya."

"Ah." Grey frowned. Parkin did deserve a reward for his faithful service. More than just a coin or two, if the lad was willing. "Whereas after I arrived and fell, literally, under your care, I lost nothing. Perhaps I should hire you to escort me back to my home."

"P’raps you should." Parkin swaggered a little. "But it ain’t coin I want. Wot I want is for you to make me your apprentice so I can learn magic."

"I don’t take apprentices." The instinctive response was out before Grey recalled that just this past summer in Paris, he had considered breaking his longstanding rule against apprentices. But that had been in special circumstances.

He turned to start hobbling down the dark, narrow alley, unable to stride away as he wished, due to his crumbled-up bones. "Go to the council hall. Take the test. If you pass it, they’ll admit you to the school."

The boy followed, offered support on the side opposite Grey’s cane. "No, they won’t," Parkin said. "Even though I have enough magic to have kept you hidden and safe half the night, they won’t let me in."

Grey gave the lad a sharp look. What had happened to his speech? "Of course they will. You’ll be admitted straightaway. That’s quite a good talent."

"I’ve been hiding myself for years now. It was simple to hide you as well. And they won’t admit me because—" Parkin tugged Grey to a halt—an easy task—and looked around. A broad-backed laborer stomped past the end of the alley. Otherwise the street was empty.

Parkin leaned in, stretched on his toes. Grey reluctantly bent his head to listen. He truly did not want to hear Parkin’s pitiful secrets.

"I can’t go to magician’s school," he whispered into Grey’s ear, "because I am female."

Astonishment shivered through Grey as he straightened to stare at the boy—the girl—No, she was a young woman.

He could see it now, the feminine nature of the delicate face. Her small frame didn’t boast many curves, but she was past childhood. He couldn’t see the color of her hair beneath the flat cap, but eyes of amber rayed over a blue outer rim gazed back at him beneath dark brown brows. She might be almost pretty if she weren’t so thin, and so dirty. Her true age was impossible to discern, but children aged early on the streets.

He wondered whether he ought to be offended that she’d lied to him, and decided against it. Offense would be expected, and he invariably did whatever was not expected, or he tried to. Though he supposed that could become expected. Besides, she hadn’t actually lied. She’d merely allowed him to assume.

Grey shook off the wandering thought and indulged his curiosity, another thing he did whenever possible. "If you’re not Parkin, who are you? Were you using magic just now to hide the fact of your gender?"

He walked on down the alley, able to do so a bit more efficiently now, though the pain refused to leave him. He hurt in every joint, every tiniest part of his body. If he wished to reach home sometime before the day’s end, and he did, he would have to find a cab. "Parkin" followed him, of course. She wanted something from him.

"Parkin is my family name. My Christian name is Pearl." She whispered the last, looking about her again for eavesdroppers.

They’d emerged from the alley into a slightly wider street, one a carriage might actually be able to pass along. They were near the Thames. Grey could tell by the reek of mud and rot and wet, and by the speech of the people clustering thicker on the street. Speech Miss Pearl Parkin had echoed until recently.

It was early, dawn barely beginning to lighten the sky. Grey usually saw dawn because he’d been up the whole of the night before, rather than waking to greet it. Had he gone drinking last night? What could he have imbibed that would leave him in such a state? He’d never had a hangover like this one.

A knot of people—idlers and children, the sort who slept in doorways—had gathered around one of the doorways off to the right, toward what appeared to be an even larger street. Grey paused, watching them because they were there, trying to get his bearings. Until he knew where near the river he was, he wouldn’t know which direction to take for home, or where to find a cab.

Miss Parkin planted herself in front of him. "I use magic to disguise myself, yes," she said. "When I’m not hiding myself altogether. If I were a boy, I’d go to that school. But I’m not, and I can’t, and now that my father has died, I need a way out of this place where he’s left me. But the only thing I can do is magic, and that will earn me nothing here but a short drop."

Grey firmed his lips to hide the effect her desperation had on his unruly heart. It was too soft by far, usually in what his family deemed inappropriate circumstances. He, and they, would prefer it remain cold and hard at all times, but he could not prevent it from reacting to the oddest things. Like Pearl Parkin’s plight.

He watched the gathering crowd, augmented now by people heading off to work with their baskets and carts and tools, who tried to pass and got caught up in whatever was happening.

Pearl clutched at his coat, trying to pull his attention back in her direction. She’d never lost it. His eyes might be turned toward the growing crowd, but all his attention—what he could squeeze past the regiment of drummers beating on his head—was focused on the dainty creature beside him.

"My hiding magic would be perfect for thieves," she whispered, her fingers digging into his forearm. "There’s some as ’ave—who have asked me to do it for them. I’ve put them off. I’ve hidden from them, but I can’t hide all the time. I have to earn my supper, don’t I? I can’t do that if I’m hidden, if I want to do it honestly, which I do. And if I give in to Nosey, I don’t know how long it’ll be till he finds out I’m a girl and—"

She shuddered, and Grey’s heart twisted. Or maybe the twist was lower, in his gut. He knew someone who had suffered that sort of insult at far too young an age. She’d recovered admirably, but the attack had left deep scars. He wanted to help this girl. But to take her as apprentice?

"Magicians can take female apprentices," she said. "I read the papers. I know about the lady Mr. Tomlinson took as his apprentice, even though he’s alchemist and she’s wizard. If he can take a girl apprentice, so can you. And if he can climb out of Seven Dials on the back of his magic talent, then so can I."

Grey wanted to help her. He did. But not that way. He didn’t take apprentices. He didn’t want to be in authority over anyone, hemming them about with rules. He paid no attention to rules himself, except for those immutable ones like gravity and inertia and conservation of magic. How could he be expected to impose rules on others?

"What are they doing there?" He indicated the murmuring crowd, and edged around Miss Parkin to hobble in that direction. Hangovers didn’t make you ache so much all over, did they? By the time he reached them, Pearl Parkin at his elbow, he could walk almost normally, or appear so. It still hurt.

"Toby’s gone to fetch the bobby," someone said in a confident tone.

Immediately, a good quarter of the crowd melted away, no doubt due to a disinclination for an encounter with London’s police representative, and Grey was able to move closer. Though not to shake off Miss Parkin.

" ’Oo are you?" One of the locals turned a suspicious eye on him. " ’Oo’s the gent?" she asked the general vicinity.

" ’E’s Magister Carteret," Miss Parkin said in her husky, pretend-boy’s voice. She pronounced Grey’s surname "Carterette," rather than the correct "Carteray." Oh, the woes of Norman French ancestry.

"Magister? Wot’s that? Some kind of fancy magistrate?" asked someone else.

"It means I’m head of the conjurer’s guild," Grey said, trying to infuse a soupçon of authority into his voice. "And one of the Briganti, the magicians’ police. What’s happened here?"

And how did Miss Parkin know who he was? That question should have occurred to him much earlier. He would have to ask it later, in the unfortunate event that there was a later with Miss Parkin.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea, exposing a sea of red.

No, not a sea. Not even a pool. Blood covered the murdered man’s naked, mangled body, but it had not flowed onto the stones of the street below him. He’d been tossed after his death into the doorway where he lay, like a broken doll.

Grey opened his senses—sight, smell, hearing, touch—and that other sense with many names. The sense that registered the presence of magic. He was a conjurer, attuned to the magical range of spirits, but he was able to sense the deep tones of the alchemist’s earth-and-elements magic. He could sometimes pick up the lighter range of a wizard’s herbal magic, though it was a strain. In the past few weeks, he’d learned to faintly hear, or feel, or—or taste the thick, coppery cry of the blood magic of sorcery.

He could taste it now. The faraway cry of innocent blood for justice. But overlaying everything else, over the soft booming of the stones beneath their feet, over the faint scent of herbs and talismans worn against illness, over the taste of blood that settled in the back of his throat, Grey could hear the loud, off-key, echoing blare of conjury twisted awry.

Rage surged up in a towering wave, sweeping away his aches, clearing out the lingering fog from his mind. Someone had used this man, his agony as his bones were broken one by one, and then his slow death as he choked on his own blood after the bones of his face were broken—used it in an attempt to call a demon. Spirits were not powerful enough, that this murderer thought he required a demon to do his bidding?

Grey’s hands hurt. He realized he’d closed them into fists so tight they began to cramp, the pain worsened by last night’s unremembered abuse. He wanted to find the murderer, this stinking smear under society’s rock, and inflict the same torture upon him.

"Who is he? Does anyone know? Can you tell?" Grey found his handkerchief miraculously still in his pocket and bent to collect a bit of the dead man’s blood. Perhaps the sorceress could do something with it.

There was only one sorceress. In the world, not just in England. Amanusa Greyson was currently in Scotland, taking stock of her sorcerous inheritance as well as enjoying a belated honeymoon with her new husband.

"I fink ’e’s Angus Galloway. By the red ’air." Someone pointed a grubby finger, and sure enough, the man did have red hair. Curly. Almost the same color as the blood beginning to dry on his obliterated face.

"Has anyone seen Angus Galloway this morning?" Grey stood to ask.

"I smell magic—" An old woman’s voice wavered in a raven’s croak over the crowd.

They parted again and she came through. Withered, gnarled, bent so far over that her head came no higher than Grey’s waist, she was led by the hand toward the murdered man. She sniffed, turning her blind eyes this way and that. They’d brought out their local witch.

Grey eased back, unnerved by the way those milky eyes seemed to see things not there. He knew better, but she unnerved him nonetheless. She might have some magic ability, but it was untrained. Most likely, she used confidence tricks and the ignorance of the masses to bolster her reputation, until her abilities were more rumor than magic. Still, those eyes disturbed him.

"Dark magic," she croaked. "Black as the depths of hell." She got that much right.

"I smell magic, too." Pearl’s whisper startled him, though it shouldn’t have. He hadn’t been able to shake her yet. "But it doesn’t smell dark. It smells . . . like blood."

"Gather it up," Grey murmured.

"How?" She scowled up at him.

"That sense you have that can smell it—reach out and touch the magic with it."

"All right."

Grey watched her, but he couldn’t see, or sense, anything. "Have you done it? Can you touch it?"

"I think so." Pearl’s forehead creased in adorable effort, just between her eyes. Damn it.

Excerpted from Heart’s Blood by Gail Dayton.

Copyright © 2009 by Gail Dayton.

Published in January 2010 by Tom Doherty Associates.

All rights reserved. This work is protected under copyright laws and reproduction is strictly prohibited. Permission to reproduce the material in any manner or medium must be secured from the Publisher.

Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 10 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star


4 Star


3 Star


2 Star


1 Star


Your Rating:

Your Name: Create a Pen Name or

Barnes & Noble.com Review Rules

Our reader reviews allow you to share your comments on titles you liked, or didn't, with others. By submitting an online review, you are representing to Barnes & Noble.com that all information contained in your review is original and accurate in all respects, and that the submission of such content by you and the posting of such content by Barnes & Noble.com does not and will not violate the rights of any third party. Please follow the rules below to help ensure that your review can be posted.

Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

We highly value and respect everyone's opinion concerning the titles we offer. However, we cannot allow persons under the age of 13 to have accounts at BN.com or to post customer reviews. Please see our Terms of Use for more details.

What to exclude from your review:

Please do not write about reviews, commentary, or information posted on the product page. If you see any errors in the information on the product page, please send us an email.

Reviews should not contain any of the following:

  • - HTML tags, profanity, obscenities, vulgarities, or comments that defame anyone
  • - Time-sensitive information such as tour dates, signings, lectures, etc.
  • - Single-word reviews. Other people will read your review to discover why you liked or didn't like the title. Be descriptive.
  • - Comments focusing on the author or that may ruin the ending for others
  • - Phone numbers, addresses, URLs
  • - Pricing and availability information or alternative ordering information
  • - Advertisements or commercial solicitation


  • - By submitting a review, you grant to Barnes & Noble.com and its sublicensees the royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable right and license to use the review in accordance with the Barnes & Noble.com Terms of Use.
  • - Barnes & Noble.com reserves the right not to post any review -- particularly those that do not follow the terms and conditions of these Rules. Barnes & Noble.com also reserves the right to remove any review at any time without notice.
  • - See Terms of Use for other conditions and disclaimers.
Search for Products You'd Like to Recommend

Recommend other products that relate to your review. Just search for them below and share!

Create a Pen Name

Your Pen Name is your unique identity on BN.com. It will appear on the reviews you write and other website activities. Your Pen Name cannot be edited, changed or deleted once submitted.

Your Pen Name can be any combination of alphanumeric characters (plus - and _), and must be at least two characters long.

Continue Anonymously
Sort by: Showing all of 10 Customer Reviews
  • Posted November 14, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    This is a terrific historical urban fantasy

    Heart's Blood
    Gail Dayton
    Tor, Dec 29 2009, $6.99
    ISBN: 9780765362513

    London Master Conjurer Grey Carteret awakens in a nasty mood as everyone of his 206 bones feel like they were part of the battlefield between heaven and hell. As he slowly regains a semblance of his environs, he has no idea how he ended up in a gutter or who the street urchin holding his stick and hat is. Parkin protected him through the night and asks to become his apprentice. Grey normally does not train anyone so he suggests magic school; but Parkin explains magic school refuses female students. Parkin is Miss Pearl Parkin who used magic to disguise her gender. Reluctantly partly because he admires his grit, make that her grit, but mostly because he needs her help as he has been arrested for murder by magic of a woman, he accepts Miss Pearl Parkin as his apprentice.

    When another homicide occurs, Grey realizes that someone is doing the forbidden; using murder of the innocent to raise a demon from hell. Grey with his student investigates prepared to prevent hell on earth although some would say this team has brought the demon forward by allowing the forbidden, a woman to practice magic.

    This is a terrific historical urban fantasy starring two wonderful lead protagonists and a strong support cast as demons attack nineteenth century London in an era in which women are banned from practicing magic. The story line is fast-paced and filled with plenty of action as the Conjurer and the apprentice fall in love while battling a rogue magician and his demon. Setting up the next book with a clever related coda to Heart's Blood, fans will relish Gail Dayton's strong paranormal romantic suspense thriller as females make a case that New Blood is needed to save the world and prevent the spread of the dead zones.

    Harriet Klausner

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted January 12, 2011

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    I hope there's a book 3!

    The second book in the Blood Magic series, Heart's Blood in my eyes had a hard road to follow. I loved New Blood. To date I've reread it twice - and I don't reread a whole lot of books. I found myself loving Heart's Blood for many of the same reasons I loved New Blood.

    The Setting - is a magical, slightly steampunk Victorian England. The world embraces three of the four branches of magic - and the fourth has just resurfaced after a few hundred years. There are also mysterious areas sprouting up across the known world called dead-zones; areas that suck the life out of people and eat magic like your morning bowl of cereal. All in all, the world is vivid, well done and resonates strongly with established history.

    The Characters - were about half recasts from the first book, and half new additions. Predominantly, this book focuses on Master Conjurer Grey Carteret, who was in the first book. I was excited that this book was about him; he made me laugh in the first and I was looking forward to reading his story. Pearl Parkin is new; because women were not held in quite the same manner as men, when her family dies and leaves her to fend for herself, she turns to her magic even though she can't get an education. The play between the two characters was a expected; Pearl blackmails Grey and of course they must fall in love - it's a romance after all! But what I wasn't expecting was the depth of character, the different things they both must overcome to grow as people and claim their love. I will say that there's a part at the end where I thought Pearl should have held out for an apology from Grey - but love forgives everything, so I'll let it slide.

    The Plot - I really wanted to know more about the 'dead zones' introduced in book one. I was hoping that solving that mystery might play more in the plot than it did, but I can't complain too much. Heart's Blood features a murder mystery as well as the romance. I'll admit, I got so focused on the romance that I completely ceased all second guessing on the murders, so it was very exciting. Inside of Heart's Blood is the story of love, women fighting for their rightful place in a society that wants to push them off to the kitchen, a murder mystery, and a magical mystery. There's a lot going on, and a lot to keep you turning those pages.

    Man, I can't wait for book three. Um, I hope there is a book three!

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted May 17, 2010

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    Heart's Blood

    If you liked the first book, New Blood, then of course you have to read the second book, Heart's Blood. I admit to having liked the first better than the second and so I spent a great deal of time wondering when Amanusa and Jax would make their entrance. This tory was good in it's own right, though. Magical tradition is clarified while it was merely introduced in the first book. I already know what I want to see in the thrid book (should there be one). I can hardly wait. :)

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted December 6, 2009

    Strong magic, passionate love and... humor!

    Master conjurer Grey Carteret has been blackmailed into taking on Pearl Parkin as an apprentice. Pearl is a gently reared lady fallen on hard times who sees magic as a way out of her hard life. But Grey finds himself framed for a grisly murder and their hunt for the true culprit leads to someone who uses the worst kind of magic - to raise demons.
    I expected to enjoy Heart's Blood every bit as much as I did New Blood. And it did have the two important ingredients that I expected: magic so real you can almost feel it and deep, passionate love. What I hadn't expected was the humor. I simply couldn't stop smiling, sometimes chuckling, once or twice laughing out loud. And so I might have to say I enjoyed it even more than its predecessor.
    One more thing made the book so compelling I couldn't put it down. Yes, there are blood and guts, demons and dismemberment, pain and suffering... and yet this is the best feel-good book I've read in ages. At one point (and I won't say which point but it wasn't a love scene and I don't want to spoil it), I cried because it felt so good. I cry at movies; I don't cry reading books. But Dayton pulls you through the story and the tension mounts so thoroughly that you are nearly screaming for relief, and when it comes it's exactly what you were hoping for... but of course you didn't know you were hoping for it because it's also a surprise, like any good master storyteller provides.
    This is not the last book in Dayton's series. I'm enthusiastically waiting for the next. But I wanted to cheer as I read the last page of Heart's Blod. Well done, Gail Dayton!

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted August 5, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted July 22, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted July 11, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted December 4, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted November 18, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted January 18, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

Sort by: Showing all of 10 Customer Reviews

If you find inappropriate content, please report it to Barnes & Noble
Why is this product inappropriate?
Comments (optional)