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She is one of the Chosen, and she can be his. His kiss can save her from destiny's curse, from the enemies stalking them both. But first he must trust her. With his life. With his love. With the promise of ...
She is one of the Chosen, and she can be his. His kiss can save her from destiny's curse, from the enemies stalking them both. But first he must trust her. With his life. With his love. With the promise of immortality.
But we woke, as if in response to some silent summons. We crept to the entrances of our tents and wagons, drawn like moths to the snapping flames of the central fire and the dark, leaping shadows the strange woman cast as she danced.
There was no music. I knew there was none, but it seemed to me that music filled my head all the same as I peered around the painted flap and watched her. She whirled, scarves trailing like colorful ghosts in her wake, her hair, black as the night, yet gleaming blue in the fire's glow. She arched and twisted and spun round again. And then she stopped still, and her eyes, like shining bits of coal, fixed right on mine. Scarlet lips curved in a terrifying smile, and she crooked a finger at me.
I tried to swallow, but the lump of cold dread in my throat wouldn't let me. Licking my lips, I glanced sideways at the tents and painted wagons of my kin, and saw the other children of our band, peering out at her, just as I was. Some of my cousins were older than I, some younger. Most looked very much like me. Their olive skin smooth, their eyes very round and wide, too thickly fringed for the eyes of a boy, but lovely be yond words on little girls. Their hair was uncut, like mine, but clean and raven black.
We were Gypsies all, and proud. The dancing woman she was a Gypsy, too. I knew that at a glance. She was one of our own.
And crooking her finger at me still.
Dimitri, older than me by three years, gave me a superior look and whispered, "Go to her. I dare you!"
Only to prove myself braver than he, I stiffened my spine and stepped out of my mother's tent, my bare feet covering the cool ground by mere inches with each hesitant step. As I crept closer, the others, taking courage in mine, began to come out, too. Slowly we gathered round the beautiful stranger like sinners come to worship at the feet of a goddess. And as we did, her smile grew wider. She beckoned us closer, a finger to her lips, and then she sat down on a log near the fire.
"Who is she?" I whispered to Dimitri, for he had joined us now, too, ashamed of himself, I thought, not to have been leading us all from the start.
"Stupid, do you know nothing? She is our aunt." He shook his head disgustedly at me, then returned his enraptured gaze to the woman. "Her name is Sarafina," he said. "She comes sometimes though I suppose you are too young to recall her last visit. She's not supposed to be here, though. When the grown-ups find out, there will be trouble."
"Why?" I too was entranced by the mysterious stranger as she lowered herself to the log, spreading the layers of her colorful skirts around her, opening her arms to welcome the young ones who crowded closer to sit on the ground all around her. I sat closest of all, right at her feet. Never had I seen a woman so beautiful. But there was something else about her, as well. Something unearthly. Something frightening.
And there was the way her eyes kept meeting mine. There was a secret in that black gaze—a secret I could not quite see. Something shadowed, hidden.
"Why will there be trouble?" I whispered again.
"Because! She is outcast!"
My brows drew together. I was about to ask why, but then the woman—my aunt Sarafina, whom I had never seen before in my life—began to speak. And her voice was like a song. Mesmerizing, deep, beguiling.
"Come, little ones. Oh, how I've missed you." Her gaze swept the faces of the children, the look in her eyes almost painful to see, so intense was the emotion there. "But most of you do not remember me at all, do you?" Her smile faltered. "And you, little Dante. You are how old now?"
"Seven," I told her, my voice a mere whisper.
"Seven years," she replied with a heavy sigh. "I was here the day you were born, you know."
"No. I didn't know."
"No matter. Oh, children, I've so much to tell you. But first " She tugged open a drawstring sack that dangled from the sash round her waist, and from it she began to draw glorious things, which she handed around to one and all. Sweets and confections such as we had never tasted, wrapped in brightly colored paper. Shiny baubles on chains, and glittering stones of all kinds, carved into the shapes of animals and birds.
The one she gave to me was a stone of black onyx in the shape of a bat. I shivered when she placed the cold piece into my palm.
When the sack was empty and the children all quiet again, she began to speak. "I have seen so many things, little ones. Things you would not believe. I journeyed to the desert lands, and there I saw buildings as big as mountains—every stone larger than an entire Gypsy wagon! Perfect and smooth they are, and pointed at the top." She used her hands to make the shape of these wonders in the air before us. "No one knows who built them, nor when. They have been there forever, some say. Others say they were built as monuments to ancient kings and that the bodies of those rulers still rest inside, along with treasures untold!" When our eyes widened, she nodded hard, making her raven curls dance and her earrings jangle. "I've been across the sea to the land below, where creatures with necks as tall as as that yew tree there, walk on stilt legs and nibble the young leaves from the tops of the trees. Yellow gold they are, and spotty! With sprouts atop their heads!"
I shook my head in disbelief. Surely she was spinning tales.
"Oh, Dante, it is true," she said. And her eyes held mine, her words for me alone, I was certain. "One day you will see these things, too. One day I will show them to you myself." Reaching down, she stroked a path through my hair and leaned close to me, whispering into my ear. "You are my very special boy, Dante. You and I share a bond more powerful even than the one you share with your own mother. Remember my words. I'll come back for you someday. When you need me, I will come."
I shivered and didn't know why.
Then I went stiff at the sound of the Grandmother's squawk. "Outcast!" she yelled, rushing from her tent and jabbing her fingers at Sarafina in the way that was said to ward off evil, the two middle fingers folded, forefinger and little one pointing straight out. She made a hissing sound when she did it, so I thought of a snake with a forked tongue snapping.
The children scattered. Sarafina rose slowly, the picture of grace, and I alone remained before her. Almost without thought, I got to my feet and turned to face the Grandmother. As if I wished to protect the lovely Sarafina. As if I could. My back was toward the woman now, and as her hands closed on my shoulders, I felt myself grow a full inch taller.
Then the Grandmother glared at me, and I thought I would shrink to the size of a sand flea.
"Can you not tolerate my presence even once every few years or so, Crone?" Sarafina asked. Her voice was no longer loving or soft or kind. It was deep and clear and menacing.
"You've no business here!" the Grandmother said.
"But I have," she replied. "You are my family. And like it or not, I am yours."
"You are nothing. You are cursed. Be gone!"
Chaos erupted around us as mothers, awakened by the noise, dashed out of their tents and wagons, gathered their children and hurried them back inside. They acted as if a killer wolf had appeared at our campfire, rather than an outcast aunt of rare beauty, bearing exotic gifts and amazing tales.
My mother came, too. As she rushed toward me I tucked the stone bat up into my sleeve. She stopped before she reached me and met Sarafina's eyes. "Please," was all she said.
There was a moment of silence as something passed between the two women. Some message, unspoken, that left my mother's eyes sad and welling with tears.
Sarafina bent down and pressed her cool lips to my cheek. "I'll see you again, Dante. Never doubt it. But for now, go on. Go to your mamma." She gave me a gentle shove and let go my shoulders.
I walked to my mother, nearly hating her for making me leave the mysterious Sarafina before I'd had a chance to learn her secrets. She gripped my arm tightly and ran to our tent so fast that she nearly dragged me off my feet. Inside, she closed the flap and cupped my face in her hands, falling to her knees before me. "Did she touch you?" she cried. "Did she mark you?"
"Sarafina would not hurt me, Mamma. She is my aunt. She is kind, and beautiful."
But my mother seemed not to hear my words. She tipped my head to one side and the other, pushing my hair aside and searching my skin. I tired of it soon enough and tugged myself free.
"You are never to go near her again, do you hear me, Dante? If you see her, you must come to me at once. Promise me!"
"But why, Mamma?"
Her hand came across my face so suddenly I would have fallen had she not been gripping my arm with the other. "Do not question me! Promise me, Dante. Swear it on your soul!"
I lowered my head, my cheek stinging, and muttered my agreement. "I promise." I was ashamed of the tears that burned in my eyes. They came more from shock than pain. My mother's hand rarely lashed out in anger. I didn't understand why it had tonight.
She knelt now, her hands on my shoulders, her worn face close to mine. "It's a promise you must keep, Dante. You endanger your soul if you break it. Mark me well." She drew a breath, sighed, and kissed the cheek she had so recently wounded. "Now, into bed with you." She was marginally calmer, her voice nearer its normal pitch.
I was far from calm. Something had stirred my blood to night. I crawled into my bed, pulled the covers over me and let the tiny, cold stone bat drop from my sleeve into my hand. I held it, rubbed its smooth surface with my thumb, beneath the blanket where my mother could not see. Mamma watched over me for a long moment, then blew out the lamp, and curled up—not upon her own bed, but on the floor beside mine, a worn blanket her only cushion.
In the silence, I rolled toward the side of the tent and thrust a forefinger through the tiny hole I had made in the fabric, so I could watch the grown-ups round the fire long after they had sent the children to bed. I tugged the hole a little wider in the darkness. And through that tiny hole, I watched and I listened as the Grandmother, the crone of the band, the eldest and most venerated woman of the family, faced off against the most vibrantly beautiful female I had ever seen in my life.
"Why do you torment us by coming back to our midst?" the Grandmother asked, as the dancing flames painted her leathery face in orange and brown, shadows and light.
"Why? You, my own sister, ask me why?"
"Sister, bah!" The Grandmother spat on the ground.
"You are no sister to me but a demon. Outcast! Cursed!"
I shook my head in wonder. What could Sarafina mean? Sister? She could no more be the old one's sister than than I could.
"Tell me why you come, demon! It is always the children you seek out when you return. It's for one of them, isn't it? Your wretched curse has been passed to one of them! Hasn't it? Hasn't it?"
Sarafina smiled very slowly, her face angelic and demonic all at once, and bathed in fireglow. "I come because you are all I have. I will always come back, old woman. Always. Long after you've gone to dust, I'll be coming back, bringing gifts to the little ones. Finding in their eyes and in their smiles the love and acceptance my own sister denies me. And there is nothing you can do to prevent it."
Before Sarafina turned away, she looked past the Grandmother and right into my eyes. As if she had known all along that I was there, watching her from the other side of that tiny hole in the tent. She could not have seen me. And yet, she must have. Her lips curved ever so slightly at the corners, and her mouth moved. Even though no sound emerged, I knew the word she whispered. Remember.
Then she turned, her skirts flying, and vanished into the night. I saw the trailing colors of her scarves like tails behind her for only an instant. Then the blackness of night closed in where she had been, and I saw her no more.
I lay down on my pillows, and I shivered in inexplicable dread.
It was me. My aunt had come for me. I knew it in my soul. What she wanted of me, I could not guess. How I knew it, this was a mystery. But I was certain to the core of me that she did have a reason for returning in the face of such hatred. And the reason was me.
Slowly, slowly, the smoke from the Gypsy campfire thinned. The light thrown by the flames dulled, and the heat—so real she had sworn she could feel it on her face—went cold.
Morgan De Silva blinked out of the fantasy. She was not looking at a Gypsy campfire through the huge dark eyes of a small boy. She was sitting on the floor of a dusty attic, staring down at the time-yellowed pages of a handwritten journal, bound in leather covers so old they felt buttery-soft against her hands. The vision painted by the words that spiderwebbed across the aging pages had been vivid. It had been real. As real as if she'd been in that Gypsy camp in the distant past, instead of on the coast of Maine in the early spring of 1997.
Morgan turned the page slowly, eager to read on .
Posted August 15, 2013
Posted February 16, 2012
I picked up this book not knowing that it was book 7 in a series when I found out I read it anyway. I love this book I couldn't put it down. You must read it I have already picked up five other books in this series and I can't wait to read them all.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted May 26, 2007
This was the first book I read by Maggie Shayne and it was absolutely amazing. From the second I opened it, it just sucked me right in. I couldn't put it down till I was finished, even when I was finished I didn't want to put it down, it was that great. I love things about vampires whether its movies or books, but this book is a must read!!!Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted October 11, 2006
This is an awesome book, everyoneshould read this book.I am a romantic That being said I want my happy endings with my paranormal romance!! The story was great and held my attention from beagining to end.I am Anxiously awaiting the next book, and hopefully a happier romantic ending!!Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted December 13, 2005
if you read this book, or any of the other books for that matter, you might as well just go buy the whole series. each book is completely absorbing. i missed two days of work because i stayed up all night reading them! i typically read fast but i zoomed through one in under 6 hrs!Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted July 2, 2004
My sister had it and she lent it to me to read as I like vampires, witches, etc. I got to tell you the truth, I never thought I would like it, but after awhile I got into the book, and now I am in LOVE with it. You should read it, you never know, you might like it.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted April 16, 2004
Posted March 31, 2003
Posted September 11, 2002
I loved Twilight Hunger.I could not put this book down,it made you want to jump in the book and help Morgan and Dante.A feeling of what true love really is. What you would do for the one you love. Im going out and buying the rest of the series.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted November 2, 2002
Maggie Shayne is probably the only writer that can keep me entertained from beginning to end, but after reading her books "Eternity" and "Infinity", I must say that I was rather disappointed with my first venture into the vampire series, as opposed to the phenomenal witch series. And while I do admit that the prologue to "Twilight Hunger", which features a lavish vampiress dancing around a demon bonfire while seducing her soon-to-be companion with her dark, mysterious eyes, is a gripping opener at that, soon after "Twilight Hunger" becomes stale with lazy writing and a corny direction in the plotline. The sex scenes are definitely more erotic and the gore is more intense than in previous books by Maggie Shayne, but the characters here have no real depth, nor do they have any personality. I do love the parts when Morgan is reading from Dante's journal, however, which details how his beautiful yet malicious aunt Sarafina transforms him into a creature of everlasting hunger. But other than that and some sweltering lust scenes, I would much rather recommend the aforementioned witch books, including "Destiny" and her short story "Immortal".Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted June 30, 2002
A great book, I would recommend it for those into the world of the paranormal. This books brings you right into the mind of a vampire and helps to understand that the things that ate usually used to describe vampires are false and show the true mind of the undead. Most people believe that vampires are mean and wish only to drink and kill, here it shows what it's truly like to be a vampire and everything they need to deal with. Most people dream of eternal life, those people should read this and see how it really is to live forever, cursed, alone, and outcasted from even their family, to be forced to watch the people you love die while you are alive and the fear of losing those you truly love. So for all those paranormal lovers (like myself) you will find this book to your liking and won't want to leave the world of Morgon De Silva and her lover, the vampire Dante!Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted July 2, 2002
I was a bit disappointed with this book. I have read all the previous Wings in the Night series, as they came out. I was rivited by all of them, especially Born in Twilight,if you read no other Maggie Shayne read that one, it was fantastic. Twilight Hunger I felt had to much going on. There were way to many fragments to make this an enjoyable book for me. Also it was very crude and corse, reminding me more of Rosemary Rogers, where I expect it, than Maggie Shayne.It is too bad She felt she had to cram everything into one story.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted May 19, 2002
Suffering from a rare blood disease, Morgan D'Silva has set goals for herself that she wants to hit quickly. The adopted daughter of a famous screen writer and renowned actress, she has always dreamed of being a screen writer herself. Yet tragedy has recently struck her adopted family, and not only did she lose her parents, she lost everything she knew and was familiar with because of the enormous debts they had accrued. Not knowing exactly where to start, she takes an offer from a close family friend to stay in a recently purchased older home. Little does she know she'll not only find her inspiration here, but the love she thought she'd never have. The vampire,Dante had never had a problem before hiding in open sight. But suddenly it is like the world in general, and a particular bunch of vampire hunters specifically, know every move he is going to make. They've found all his hideouts, know all of his secrets. How could this be?? No one knew these things. Fleeing yet another attempt on his undead life, he retreats to a home that he had owned a hundred years before. He is shocked to see that it has been totally restored to the way it was when he lived there, almost down to the last detail. He is even more shocked to see the human mortal woman who lives there, Morgan, and discover that she is one of 'the chosen'. For only the chosen are able to be changed into vampires and survive. She was his for the taking....And she was calling to HIM in the night. Dante. How? How could she know his name? And that this was once his home? Dante soon finds that Morgan knows everything about him...secrets from hundreds of years past. He has to discover how she knows, and who she has told. Could she be the traitor who has turned the vampire hunters on him?? Maggie Shayne has created an incredible story of intrigue, the paranormal, and love story that is to 'die' for. Her characters are so true to life personality, strength and weakness wise, that we can totally relate to them. She made me cringe at some of the things the vampire, Dante, did, while at the same time sympathizing and falling in love with him. She interweaves a secondary story line that will shock you, and pulls it off beautifully without taking away from Dante and Morgan's story. If you're a fan of vampires, you don't want to miss this read!! TWILIGHT HUNTER is a stand alone story, one you'll fall in love with, but is also tied to a series of books by Maggie Shayne, her WINGS IN THE NIGHT series. I had never read them before, and must tell you, this reviewer is on a book hunt for her backlist!!Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted April 16, 2002
The story is about a Morgan, a screenwriter who discovers very old journals of Dante, a man who believed himself to be a vampire; Morgan believes the man was out of his mind and judging from the age of the journals is probaly dead so she decides to use the journals for a screen play, which becomes a big hit. Through working on the journals she falls in love with Dante even though she believes he is not real. Dante stumbles across Morgan at his old house and is immediately attracted to her, and completely confused of how she knows so much about him so he starts following her to find out. I'll leave the rest to the reader. Though the story was good, the characters were way underdeveloped. The book was okay, but with so many great books out there I would not recommend this book.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted April 19, 2002
Posted April 26, 2002
I really liked this book. Everyone should read just one and see how they like them. I could not put this book down, it was so interesting it was like I was watching a movie or something. She has a great imagination.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted December 1, 2010
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Posted August 28, 2013
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Posted November 24, 2010
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