Persistence of Memory

Persistence of Memory

3.9 71
by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

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Sixteen-year-old Erin Misrahe just wants to be like everyone else in her new school. But Erin has more to worry about than passing AP Chemistry or making friends. In times of stress, she has always been overcome by her alter ego, Shevaun, whose violent behavior wreaks havoc on those around her. Erin can never remember anything about these episodes, and she’s

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Sixteen-year-old Erin Misrahe just wants to be like everyone else in her new school. But Erin has more to worry about than passing AP Chemistry or making friends. In times of stress, she has always been overcome by her alter ego, Shevaun, whose violent behavior wreaks havoc on those around her. Erin can never remember anything about these episodes, and she’s grateful to have been spared them for a while.

But when a protective friend comes back into Erin’s life, he insists that Shevaun is a vampire who actually exists apart from Erin. Shevaun has dangerous allies, like the handsome witch Adjila—and they’re determined to sever Shevaun’s connection to Erin once and for all.

Editorial Reviews

KLIATT - Janis Flint-Ferguson
Erin is a high school student with an abnormal problem: she often finds herself in a different time and a different place. Mental illness is the diagnosis, and so she is treated and now able to return to a "regular" high school. At school she meets Marissa, who is on the fencing team. But one afternoon, Erin sees Marissa turn into an animal—or is it another psychotic break from reality? Erin is rushed to a hospital ward and sedated, an experience with which she is very familiar. When Erin wakes up, she is in another room, another place, a different life, being called by a different name—Shevaun. Shevaun and her husband Adjila are part of the world of witches and vampires, and they intend to find out why Erin and Shevaun are always exchanging bodies. And, if they have to, they will kill Erin to keep the changes from happening. Atwater-Rhodes will not disappoint her many fans with this cleverly crafted story of a collision between the fantasy world and the known world. Through the story of Erin and Shevaun she explores the many dimensions of illusion and the possibility that sometimes an illusion in one world is the reality of another. Reviewer: Janis Flint-Ferguson
Children's Literature - Kristy Lyn Sutorius
For years Erin has been in and out of psychiatric facilities, battling her severe schizophrenia and an alter ego who is violent enough to stick "a pencil through a nurse's hand." But now that she has been mainstreamed, she is more determined than ever to remain in a real high school. Watching as her friend Marissa turns into a giant cat, Erin believes that she is losing ground against her illness. Waking, she finds herself in a vampire's body somewhere in France. What she still doesn't realize is that this alter ego is not just in her head, but Shevaun is a real person, centuries old. Furious that she shares a connection with the teen, Shevaun and her lover, Adijla, and the two young vampires she has taken under her wing head to Massachusetts to find Erin and destroy the connection and possibly Erin with it. Erin, unwilling to recognize her powers, is protected only by her romantic interest from the psych ward, Sassy, a compulsive liar and shape-shifter who takes the form of a hyena. It is Adjila who finally discovers the source of the women's connection, which proves to potentially deadly for both Erin and Shevaun. Atwater-Rhodes explores a deeper, more psychological side of the underworld inhabited by vampires and other mysterious creatures. Her skilled writing takes the reader to unexpected corners of the characters' minds, usurping the reader's skepticism and doubt. Reviewer: Kristy Lyn Sutorius
School Library Journal

Gr 7 Up

Erin Misrahe, 16, has spent almost half of her life in and out of psychiatric wards. With the help of serious drugs, she has managed to stay out of the hospital for more than two years and is attending classes at a local high school. But the dreams of blood and violence and being a completely different person have started again, and it seems that her alter ego, Shevaun, may be something more than just a figment of her imagination. With the help of her shape-shifter friends and Shevaun's longtime lover, Erin and Shevaun fight to separate their minds and memories and try to figure out what happened to connect them in the first place. What sets this novel apart from the current rash of teenaged-vampire-angst fiction are the two narrators-Erin, grown used to, and even comfortable with, the idea that she is mentally ill; and Shevaun, willing to do anything to protect the family she's cobbled together. Secondary characters are equally compelling, and the world that Atwater-Rhodes has created is believable and intriguing. Hand this novel to the multitudes going through Stephenie Meyer withdrawal and they won't be disappointed.-Mara Alpert, Los Angeles Public Library

Kirkus Reviews
Perfectly pedestrian storytelling marks this newest from the former teen phenom. Erin has spent most of her life institutionalized for schizophrenia. After years of therapy and medication, she has stabilized enough that she can attend classes at the public high school, where she develops a friendship with Marissa, her spunky classmate. But the 16-year-old must doubt her hard-fought sanity as things go awry. She starts having nightmares in which she wakes up as Shevaun, a powerful vampire living in France with her witch lover, Adjila. Erin recognizes and loathes Shevaun as her violent alter ego from her years in the hospital, but she is powerless to sever the connection. When she sees Marissa transform into a tiger in the woods, Erin is sure she's having another psychotic break. Erin needs the help of Marissa, Adjila and her fellow mental patient/boyfriend Sassy in order to keep Shevaun from destroying her. Awkward phrasing weighs down the muddled story line and the characters are too thinly developed to be very sympathetic, but this fast-paced narrative will be a quick read for devotees of the genre. (Horror. 11-14)

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Product Details

Random House Children's Books
Publication date:
Den of Shadows Series
Product dimensions:
8.48(w) x 5.68(h) x 0.83(d)
860L (what's this?)
Age Range:
12 Years

Read an Excerpt

ERIN WOKE ONCE AGAIN IN A DARK ROOM, BUT this time it didn’t feel like a dream. She thought she had fallen asleep in her father’s car, which was unusual. The only times she really remembered blacking out like that . . .

Where was she?

What had she done?

She pushed herself up and then gasped. Her body ached. She shoved her hair out of her face and groped blindly for the edge of the bed, and from there for a lamp. She needed light. She needed–

Don’t freak out again, Erin. Deep breaths.
She consciously controlled her breathing as she located the bedside table.

Instead of finding a lamp, she touched a small box, maybe for jewelry. A . . . pair of handcuffs? A little less carefully and a little more frantically, she searched further, and then she bit back a scream as she grabbed something sharp, cutting her hand.
She recoiled, hugging her injured hand to her chest, and ended up in the middle of the dark room. She shuffled forward, her uninjured hand in front of her face, until she found the wall and breathed a sigh of relief.

The relief was short-lived. In that moment, a door behind her opened, letting in a stream of muted but much-appreciated light and a man she had never seen before.

He looked a little older than Erin–maybe a college student–though he had a quality about him that made Erin think he was older than that. His skin was caramel-bronze, and his short, tousled hair was the color of French roast coffee beans.

What didn’t match were his silver and blue eyes, which made her think of a blue jay dipped in mercury. He didn’t look like anyone she remembered ever knowing, but at the same time he seemed impossibly familiar. Those eyes, focused on her with apparent concern, seemed like eyes she must have stared into for hours once upon a time, in another life.

Maybe she had.

This thought made Erin’s skin crawl.

“Where am I?” she asked, in a voice so muted she could barely recognize it as her own.

“In your room, in your Sète home.” He looked worried now. “Do you remember how you got here?”

Sète? She had never heard of it.

“What state?”

Now he really looked confused. “Shevaun, why don’t you sit down? You were badly hurt. This is the first time you’ve been conscious in days, and I think you’re still confused.”

“What did you call me?” But Erin already knew. She knew because she had heard the name before. It was written in all her medical records.

“Shevaun, sit down–”

He moved to touch her arm and she jerked back.

“I’ve got to go. I have to leave, now.”


“Don’t call me that!”

As she remembered what he had said, she demanded, “Hurt–how? How was I hurt? What did I do?” Erin didn’t want to go back to the ward, to lockdowns and body searches and waking up in restraints, but wasn’t this worse? At least when she woke up in isolation, she knew where she was and who she was with.

“Calm down,” the man was saying, but she couldn’t. She knew what “Shevaun” was capable of; any friend of that woman’s was no friend of hers. Erin only needed to glance at the bedside table–and the handcuffs, knife, and bottle of wine there–to know that.
The man reached for her again. This time she shoved him, discovering in her panic a strength she hadn’t known she possessed, and suddenly the stranger was sprawled full length on the ground.

Seizing her advantage, she dashed past him, only to slam into a tall, slender girl with unruly blond hair, who stumbled a bit but managed to keep her footing and grab Erin’s arm.

“Shevaun, you’re awake!”

The girl’s glowing happiness was quickly replaced by confusion as the man Erin had run from said, “Brittany, don’t let her past you. Something’s wrong.”

“Something is wrong,” Erin said swiftly as the man moved up behind her and grasped one of her wrists in each hand. “I don’t know what I’ve told you, but I’m not who you think I am. And I need to get home, right away.”

“You are home,” the girl said.

“No, I’m not–”

“Brittany, why don’t you give us some privacy?” the man asked.

Brittany nodded. “I’ll wait in the parlor, in case you need me.”

Parlor? Who has a parlor, in this day and age?

Apparently, Shevaun did, along with this oldmoney, Victorian-style bedroom, featuring a fourposter bed, an Oriental carpet, and honest-to-god oil paintings on the walls. Not to mention handcuffs and a knife, and a man Erin had never met.

“Please,” she whispered. “Let me call my father. He’ll explain.”

The man holding her didn’t reply. Instead, he pulled them both down on the bed, where he spooned against her back, pinning one of her arms underneath her and keeping her other wrist in his hand, against her shoulder. He was gentle, but Erin knew that he was perfectly ready to roll forward and pin her more thoroughly if she struggled.

“Let’s start over,” he said, in a voice that was ohso- careful. “My name is Adjila. I am in love with Shevaun, so you can be assured that I won’t hurt you, that I have a vested interest in figuring out what is going on, and that I am not going to let you out of this house until I am confident you are safe. Even if you were making sense to me, I would attempt to discourage you from leaving due to your current physical condition–which you would notice, if you would calm down enough to recognize that you are still injured.”

Aware that she wouldn’t be able to get up until he let her, Erin forced herself to relax. As she did so, she confirmed what he had said: her whole body hurt. The pain seemed most focused in her gut and her ribs, but everything ached, as if she had either had a serious flu or taken an equally serious beating.

“Okay, I’ve calmed down,” she said. “Would you let go of me now?”

“So you can run off?” Adjila guessed correctly.


“Actually, because it creeps me out to have a guy I don’t know snuggling with me,” she snapped. It was her secondary reason, but that didn’t make it less true.
She felt him flinch, and an unexpected wave of pity washed over her. He had claimed to love Shevaun. She was about to tell him that Shevaun didn’t exist.

“If it would make you less uneasy,” he said, “I can tie you down instead.”

She drew a deep breath. “I don’t want to be tied up.”
“I didn’t think so. Now, if you aren’t Shevaun, why don’t you let me know who you are?”

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