Lasher (Mayfair Witches Series #2)

Lasher (Mayfair Witches Series #2)

by Anne Rice

Paperback(Mass Market Paperback - Reprint)

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Overview

Lasher (Mayfair Witches Series #2) by Anne Rice

"SEDUCTIVE MAGIC...SPELLBINDING...Rice stages her scenes in a wide variety of times and locales, tapping deeply into the richest veins of mythology and history."
--San Francisco Chronicle
"STEAMY...FAST-PACED AND HUGELY ENGROSSING...Rice's title character--a seductive, evil, highly sexual and ultimately tragic creature--is fascinating."
--The Miami Herald
"BEHIND ALL THE VELVET DRAPES AND GOSSAMER WINDING SHEETS, THIS IS AN OLD-FASHIONED FAMILY SAGA....Rice's descriptive writing is so opulent it almost begs to be read by candlelight."
--The Washington Post Book World
"RICE SEES THINGS ON A GRAND SCALE...There is a wide-screen historical sweep to the tale as it moves from one generation of witches to the other."
--The Boston Globe
"EROTIC...EERIE...HORRIFYING...A tight tale of the occult in present-day New Orleans...Anne Rice is a spellbinding novelist.... LASHER quenches."
--Denver Post
A MAIN SELECTION OF THE LITERARY GUILD(c)

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780345397812
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Publication date: 08/28/1995
Series: Mayfair Witches Series , #2
Edition description: Reprint
Pages: 640
Sales rank: 49,396
Product dimensions: 4.20(w) x 6.90(h) x 1.10(d)
Age Range: 14 - 18 Years

About the Author

Anne Rice is the author of thirty-two books. She lives in Palm Desert, California.

Hometown:

Rancho Mirage, California

Date of Birth:

October 4, 1941

Place of Birth:

Rancho Mirage, California

Education:

B.A., San Francisco State University, 1964; M.A., 1971

Read an Excerpt

One
 
In the beginning was the voice of Father.
 
“Emaleth!” whispering close to her mother’s belly while her mother slept. And then singing to her, the long songs of the past. Songs of the Glen of Donnelaith and of the castle, and of where they would sometime come together, and how she would be born knowing all that Father knew. It is our way, he said to her in the fast language, which others could not understand.
 
To others it sounded like humming, or whistling. It was their secret tongue, for they could hear syllables which ran too fast for the others to grasp. They could sing out to each other. Emaleth could almost do it, almost speak—
 
“Emaleth, my darling, Emaleth, my daughter, Emaleth, my mate.” Father was waiting for her. She had to grow fast and grow strong for Father. When the time came, Mother had to help her. She had to drink Mother’s milk.
 
Mother slept. Mother cried. Mother dreamed. Mother was sick. And when Father and Mother quarreled, the world trembled. Emaleth knew dread.
 
But Father always came after, singing to her, reminding her that the words of his song were too rapid for Mother to comprehend. The melody made Emaleth feel as if the tiny round world in which she lived had expanded and she was floating in a place without limits, pushed hither and thither by Father’s song.
 
Father said poetry which was beautiful, especially words that rhyme. Rhymes made a thrill pass through Emaleth. She stretched her legs and her arms, and turned her head this way and that, it felt so good, the rhymes.
 
Mother didn’t talk to Emaleth. Mother wasn’t supposed to know that Emaleth was there. Emaleth was tiny, said Father, but perfectly formed. Emaleth already had her long hair.
 
But when Mother talked, Emaleth understood her; when Mother wrote, Emaleth saw the words. Emaleth heard Mother’s frequent whisper. She knew that Mother was afraid. Sometimes she saw Mother’s dreams. She saw the face of Michael. She saw fighting. She saw Father’s face as Mother saw it and it made Mother sad.
 
Father loved Mother, but Mother made him fiercely angry, and when he struck Mother, Mother suffered, even falling, and Emaleth screamed, or tried to scream. But Father always came after, while Mother slept, and said Emaleth must not fear. That they would come together in the circle of stones at Donnelaith, and then he told stories to her of the old days, when all the beautiful ones had lived on an island, and it was Paradise, before the others and the little people had come.
 
Sad and sorrowful the weakness of humans and the tragedy of the little people, and is it not better that all be driven from the Earth?
 
“I tell you the things I know now. And things that were told to me,” he said. And Emaleth saw the circle of stones, and the tall figure of Father as he was now, strumming the strings of the harp. Everyone was dancing. She saw the little people hiding in the shadows, spiteful and angry. She did not like them, she did not want them to steal down into the town. They loathe us instinctively, said Father, of the little people. How can they not? But they do not matter now. They are only a lingering from dreams which failed to come true.
 
Now is the hour. The hour for Emaleth and Father.
 
She saw Father in the old days, with his arms outstretched. This was Christmas and the glen was filled with snow. The Scots pines were close. Hymns rose from the people. Emaleth loved the rise and fall of the voices. There was so much she must see and learn later on.
 
“If we are separated, my beloved, come to the glen at Donnelaith. You can find it. You can do this. People are searching for Mother, people who would divide us. But remember, you will be born into this world knowing all you need to know. Now can you answer me?”
 
Emaleth tried but she could not.
 
“Taltos,” he said, and kissed Mother’s belly, “I hear you, darling, I love you.” And while Mother slept Emaleth was happy, because when Mother woke, Mother would cry.
 
“You think I wouldn’t kill him in an instant?” Father said to Mother. They were fighting about Michael. “I would kill him just like that. You leave me, and what makes you think that won’t happen?”
 
Emaleth saw this person, Michael, whom Mother loved and Father did not. Michael lived in New Orleans in a great house. Father wanted to go back to the great house. He wanted to possess it, it was his house, and it made him deeply angry that Michael was there. But he knew he must bide his time. Emaleth had to come to him, tall and strong. There had to be the Beginning. He wanted them to come together in the glen at Donnelaith. Beginning was everything. There was nothing if there was no beginning.
 
Prosper, my daughter.
 
Taltos.
 
No one lived in Donnelaith anymore. But they would live there—Father and Emaleth and their children. Hundreds of children. It would become the shrine of the Beginning. “Our Bethlehem,” he whispered to her. And that would be the beginning of all time.
 
It was dark. Mother cried against the pillow, Michael, Michael, Michael.
 
Emaleth knew when the sun rose.
 
The color of everything brightened, and she saw Mother’s hand high above her, dark and thin and immense, covering the whole world.
 

Customer Reviews

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Lasher (Mayfair Witches Series #2) 4.2 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 226 reviews.
Guest More than 1 year ago
I enjoyed reading this book but the ending was not up to par. I was disappointed, personally. The book seemed to veer off to a totally different pace and feeling towards the end and it makes it almost annoying. I enjoy Anne Rice, but this is far from her best work!!!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I love Anne Rice but this was so boring. I forced myself to finish it but I will not read Taltos.
Guest More than 1 year ago
I just finished unpacking, and found it. I read this book back when i was 24, I am now 33 and the book was even better this time around, now its making me want to read all the other books over again. Lasher was soooo delicious, and his past with the family...Love Hate relationship. I wanted more like i want chocolate. Brilliant! I just wish that she would expand more on the witches chro., maybe even bring him back. Oh How I depised him, and the family was just Fabulous!!!!Julien need his on book!!!! GREAT READ, GREAT READ!!!!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Love this world of sorrow, crazyness, amazing tales, I recommend this series to everyone with strong stomach for this type of literature, Anne Rice has become my favorite Author!!!!! It took me less than two weeks to read it and I'm half threw Taltos!!!! Love every bit of this series!
corgidog2 on LibraryThing 4 days ago
Anne Rice writes about the New Orleans witches as if she knows them personnaly. I guess she does, actually, having written so many books about them.
sdtaylor555 on LibraryThing 6 days ago
A bit disappointing after the masterpiece that was the Witching Hour, but pretty good really. I did enjoy it.
vampyredhead on LibraryThing 6 days ago
The 2nd book in the lives of the Mayfair witches. This isn't a good as the first, but still worth reading. It's scary and sensual.
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Ann Rice is a phenomenal writer! Amazing story....will definitely read them all!!!
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For me this book was not as captivating as was its predecessor, The Witching Hour. Lasher just seemed to wander with no main plot and periodically I had to force myself to pick the book up to continue reading.
khznh More than 1 year ago
I first read the Mayfair Witches series many years ago, when it was first published. It remains one of my favorites, more so than her Vampire Chronicles. Such an intricate dance of characters and plot... it demands your attention.
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