Readers around the world have fallen for Kelley Armstrong’s intoxicating, sensual and wicked tales of the paranormal, in which demons and witches, werewolves and vampires collide – often hilariously, sometimes violently – with everyday life. In Armstrong’s first six novels, Elena, Paige and Eve have had their way with us. Now get ready for Jaime Vegas, the luscious, lovelorn and haunted necromancer. . .
Jaime, who knows a thing or two about showbiz, is on a television shoot in Los Angeles when weird things start to happen. As a woman whose special talent is raising the dead, her threshold for weirdness is pretty high: she’s used to not only seeing dead people but hearing them speak to her in very emphatic terms. But for the first time in her life – as invisible hands brush her skin, unintelligible fragments of words are whispered into her ears, and beings move just at the corner of her eye–she knows what humans mean when they talk about being haunted.
She is determined to get to the bottom of these manifestations, but as she sets out to solve the mystery she has no idea how scary her investigation will get, or to what depths ordinary humans will sink in their attempts to gain supernatural powers. As she digs into the dark underside of Los Angeles, she’ll need as much Otherworld help as she can get in order to survive, calling on her personal angel, Eve, and Hope, the well-meaning chaos demon. Jeremy, the alpha werewolf, is also by her side offering protection. And, Jaime hopes, maybe a little more than that.
“As I knelt on the cobblestones to begin the ritual, I opened not some ancient leather pouch, but a Gucci make-up bag. . . .
I know little about the geography and theology of the afterlife, but I do know that the worst spirits are kept secured, and my risk of “accidentally” tapping into a hell dimension is next to nil. Even if I do bring back some depraved killer’s spirit, what can it do to me? When you deprive someone of the ability to act in the living world, he’s pretty darned helpless. In death, even the worst killer plummets from lethal to merely annoying.
Yet whatever had been trying to contact me apparently could cross that barrier, could act in the living world. . .at least on me. I added an extra helping of vervain to the censer.”
—from No Humans Involved
About the Author
Kelley Armstrong lives in rural Ontario with her husband, three children and far too many pets. She is the author of a new crime series, the Women of the Otherworld series and an upcoming young adult trilogy, The Darkest Power.
Read an Excerpt
Brendan struggled to stay awake. A tough battle–far tougher than it should have been under the circumstances.
They'd approached him behind a bank, its parking lot empty as evening turned to night. He'd been cutting through to the shelter, hoping it would still have meals. Hot meals would be too much to hope for at that hour, but he'd settle for free.
The bank had erected a fence between itself and the shelter to stem the flow of kids taking the shortcut from the bus stop. Brendan had been halfway up when the woman had hailed him. Fearing trouble, he'd only climbed faster, until she'd laid a hand on his calf and he'd turned to see not cops, but a middle-aged couple–well-dressed professional types.
They'd told him some story about losing their son to the streets and devoting their lives to helping other kids. Bullshit, of course. In real life, everyone wanted something. Despite their sincere smiles and concerned eyes, he'd decided that what they wanted was sex. And, as long as they were willing to pay for it, that was okay with him.
It wouldn't be the first trick he'd turned. He'd briefly teamed up with a kid from the shelter, until Ricky had found a better-looking partner. Brendan should have taken this as a sign. If he wasn't good-looking enough to be a whore in L.A. he sure as hell wasn't going to make it as a movie star. But it was too late to go home now. Too late to admit he didn't have what it took. Too hard to face everyone who'd told him so.
He did have talent. Won the top role in every school play. Got a job at the summer theater three years running. Did two TV commercials for local businesses. So, at sixteen, tired of his parents telling him to go to college first, he'd taken his savings and come to L.A.
Now the money was gone and he'd found no decent way to earn more, and if this couple wanted what he figured they wanted, that was fine by him. They had kind faces. Maybe in Hollywood that didn't count for shit, but where he'd come from it meant something.
They'd driven him to their home in Brentwood. He'd recognized the neighborhood from a "Star Tours" bus trip he'd taken when he first arrived. He'd sat in the back of their SUV, peering out the tinted windows into the night, watching the fabled neighborhood pass. They'd pulled into the garage of a modest-looking house, then led him inside. They'd offered food, but he'd claimed he wasn't hungry, despite his rumbling stomach. He might be naive, but he knew better than to accept food or drink.
When they'd taken him downstairs, through a TV room into a guest bedroom, he'd been certain this was where the situation would change. But they'd only turned on the lights, pointed out the adjoining washroom and said they'd see him in the morning. They hadn't even closed the door, but left it ajar, so he wouldn't feel locked in.
Now, as he fought the urge to sleep, footsteps sounded on the stairs. The woman's voice, sharp with an accent. Then the man's. Then another man's. And another . . .
Heart hammering, he tried to rouse himself. Why was he so tired? Goddamn it, he had to make a break for it, before he found himself in the middle of a gang bang or–
Outside, in the TV room, the woman offered refreshments. Two of the men asked for wine, the third accepted water. Then their voices settled into one place, as if they were sitting.
Wine and conversation as a prelude to sex games with a teenage boy?
Brendan strained to make out their words. They were talking about books. "Texts" as they called them, tossing around words like belief and ritual, debating the different translated meanings of Hebrew and Latin versions.
Latin. That's what the woman had been speaking earlier. As he'd been getting into their car, she had been saying something to the man in another language, and with her accent, Brendan had figured she was reverting to her mother tongue to relay a private message. The language, though, had sounded familiar. Now he knew why. As a Christmas and Easter Catholic, he'd heard enough Latin.
Now these people were discussing religious texts, and that couldn't be a coincidence. The couple had said they wanted to help, as penance for their mistakes with their son. Good Samaritans.
"–too old," one man was saying, his voice rising enough for Brendan to hear him easily. "All of our success has been with kids much younger, and I don't understand why we need to change that now."
"We aren't changing," another man said. "We're expanding and experimenting. There's a limited supply of younger children out there and it's difficult getting access to them. If we can adjust the procedure to work successfully with teens, we open the door to limitless possibilities."
"Don's right." The woman again. "One or two a year isn't enough, not for the scale we . . ."
Her voice dropped soothingly until, once again, Brendan could only catch the odd word.
He couldn't blame them for setting their sights on children. By his age, most street kids had no interest in "rescue." They were too immersed in the life to accept help. But he would. Drugs weren't a problem–he'd never been able to afford them. They could spout all the Bible verses they wanted and he'd smile and agree if it meant getting on a bus home. He could tell his parents he hadn't failed; he'd just had a religious experience and had changed his mind.
He closed his eyes and pictured himself walking up his drive, imagined his mother's face, his little sister's squeals, his father's expression–stern but relieved.
The conversation outside his door seemed to have turned to a heated debate on the nature of suffering. Yeah, he thought with a chuckle, definitely Catholic. From what he could make out, it sounded a hell of a lot like a conversation between two Goths he'd overheard last week.
Morbid. The word popped into his head and he turned it over in his mind. A cool word. Described Goths and some religious types alike–that fixation with death and suffering.
In the room beyond, a male voice had picked up volume again.
"–Romans used crucifixion not only because it was publicly humiliating, but for the degree of suffering inflicted. With the weight of the body pulling down, breathing becomes difficult, and the condemned could hang for days, slowly suffocating."
"True, but according to accounts of the witch trials, burning was the worst way to die. If you keep the person from dying from smoke inhalation, they can live a surprisingly long time, and suffer unimaginable pain."
Brendan shivered. Okay, that went beyond morbid. Maybe these weren't mainstream religious do-gooders, but some kind of fanatical sect. Like the Scientologists or something. Most religious people he knew were good folks, but there were wackos. As much as he wanted to go home, he wouldn't put up with any kind of sick shit. He should get up, go in there, maybe tell them he'd changed his mind. But he was so tired.
The voices had stopped. Good. He'd rest for a few more minutes, then sneak out–
The door opened. In walked the man and woman, followed by three others: a younger woman, a balding man and a white-haired one.
"Hello, Brendan," said the woman.
Brendan struggled to his feet. "I want to leave."
The woman nodded. Then she stepped forward, lifted her hand to her mouth and blew. A cloud of white dust flew into Brendan's face. He tried to cough, but only wheezed. She started speaking in Latin again and his knees gave way. The other two men rushed to grab him, each taking an arm, their grips gentle as they helped him to his feet.
The men lifted his arms around their shoulders. His eyelids flagged and closed. His feet dragged across the floor as they took him into a second, smaller room. The men exchanged words, then lowered him to the floor. A cold, hard floor.
He opened his eyes. There, from high above, a dog stared down at him. A terrier, like his sister's dog. But there was something wrong . . .
Legs. It didn't have any legs. Just a torso and a head perched on the edge of an overhang, watching him.
He should care–knew he should care–but he couldn't work up the energy. He squeezed his eyes shut and huddled there, too weak to even think. He heard them talking and he could tell they were speaking English, but deciphering the meaning of the words required too much energy, so he just listened to the sound and let it lull him.
Liquid splashed onto his back, seeping through his shirt. Cold and wet and stinking of something he should recognize. Then, as he was about to drift off, his wandering brain identified the smell.
He snapped awake, panicked, telling his arms and legs to move, his mouth to scream, but nothing obeyed. He cracked open his eyes just enough to see the people filing from the room. The woman stopped in front of him and bent. Her smiling lips parted, saying something reassuring. Then she struck the match.
JAIME VEGAS, CENTER STAGE
One drawback to being onstage for most of your life is that eventually you forget how to act when you're off it. Not that it matters. In such a life, you're never really offstage. Even walking from your bedroom to the kitchen you can't lower your guard . . . at least not if you're on the set of one of the most anticipated TV specials of the season–one costarring you.
I'd started my career at the age of three, forced onto the toddler beauty pageant catwalks by a mother who'd already decided I needed to earn my keep. I should have grown up dreaming of the day I'd be off that stage. But when I stepped into the limelight, every eye was on me and I shone. It became my refuge and now, forty years later, while there were days when I really didn't feel like strapping on four-inch heels and smiling until my jaw hurt, my heart still beat a little faster as I walked down that hall.
The buzz of a saw drowned out the clicking of my heels on the hardwood. I caught a whiff of sawdust and oil, and shuddered to imagine what alterations the crew was making to the house. From what I'd heard, the homeowners weren't likely to complain–they desperately needed the money. The "official" rumor was a failed film project, but the one I'd heard involved an unplanned baby project with the nanny. Tabloid stories to be suppressed, a young woman to be paid off, a wife to placate–it could all get very expensive.
As I passed a young man measuring the hall, I nodded and his jaw dropped.
"M–Ms. Vegas? Jaime Vegas?"
I swung around and fixed him with a megawatt smile that I didn't need to fake. Shallow of me, I know, but there's no ego boost like the slack-jawed gape of a man half your age.
"Geez, it is you." He hurried over to shake my hand. "Could I–? I know it's unprofessional to ask, but is there any chance of getting an autograph?"
"Of course. I'm heading to a meeting right now, but you can grab an autograph from me anytime. Just bring me something to sign. Or if you prefer a photo . . ."
"A photo would be great."
My smile brightened. "A photo it is, then. I have some in my room."
"Thanks. Grandpa will love it. He's such a fan of yours. He has a thing for redheads, but you're his favorite. All his buddies in the nursing home think you're hot."
Just what I needed on the first day of a big job–the reminder that in Hollywood time, I was already a decade past my best-before date.
I kept smiling, though. Another minute of conversation, and the promise of a handful of signed photos for Gramps and the boys, and I was off again.
As I neared the dining room, I heard a crisp British voice snap, "Because it's ridiculous, that's why. Mr. Grady is a professional. He will not be subjected to mockery."
Before I pushed open the door, I pictured the speaker: a stylish woman, roughly my age, dressed in a suit and oozing efficiency. I walked in, and there she was–short blond hair, thin lips, small and wiry, as if extra flesh would be a sign of softness she could ill afford. Icy green eyes glared from behind her tiny glasses. Personal assistant model A: the bulldog, designed to raise hell on her client's behalf, leaving him free to play the gracious, good-natured star.
Facing her was a younger woman, maybe thirty, dumpy, with a shoulder-length bob and worried eyes. Director model C: the overwhelmed first-timer.
The dining room, like most of the house, had been "redecorated" to accommodate the shoot. The homeowners had cleared out anything they didn't want damaged, so the dining set was gone, replaced by a cheaper one. As for the dead guy hanging from the chandelier, I suspected he came with the house, and was probably tough to remove without an exorcism or two.
The hanging man was maybe fifty, average size but with heavy jowls, as if he'd lost a lot of weight fast. He swayed from an old crystal chandelier, superimposed over the modern one. His face was mottled and swollen, eyes thankfully closed.
I eyed him from the doorway so I wouldn't be tempted to stare once I was in the room. After thirty years of seeing ghosts, you learn all the tricks.
This one, though, wasn't a ghost, but a residual. What tragedy had brought him to an end so emotionally powerful that the image was seared forever in this room? I doused my curiosity. It would do me no good. When you see scenes like this every day, you can't afford to stop and wonder. You just can't.
Both women turned as I entered. The assistant's gaze slid over me, lips tightening as if someone had shoved a lemon wedge in her mouth. I flashed a smile and her lips pursed more. If you can't still turn the heads of twenty-year-old boys, winning the catty disapproval of women your own age is a good consolation prize.
I stopped a hairbreadth from the hanged man and tried not to recoil as his swaying body circled my way.
"I hope I'm not interrupting," I said to the woman with the worried eyes. "I was sent to speak to the director, Becky Cheung. Would that be you?"
She smiled and extended a hand. "It is. And you must be Jaime Vegas. This is Claudia Wilson, Bradford Grady's assistant."
I shook Cheung's hand. "Should I step outside and let you two finish?"
"No, no." Desperation touched Becky's voice. "This concerns you too. We're discussing a promo shot. Mr. Simon has decided he wants the three stars to say a line."
Claudia shot a hard look at Becky. "A specific line. Tell her what it is."
"Um . . . 'I see dead people.' "
What People are Saying About This
"Laural Merlington...reads with a sense of joy that makes the listener smile." -AudioFile
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
I was a little skeptical when i started this OK. Jaime was not one of my favorite characters. This book however has given me a new respect and love for Jaime. This was an excellent surprise of a book and only further proves how good of an author Armstrong is. I look forward to reading as ma y more from this series as she can write. This was a great book.
I'm a fan of Kelley Armstrong's Women of the Otherworld series. One thing that makes the series different is that its told from different perspectives--usually female and written in first person. The first two books are narrated by Elena, a werewolf, the next two by Paige, a witch and so on. I rather like that--I suspect its part of what keeps this series fresh. This particular book is focused on and narrated by Jaime Vegas, a necromancer (she sees dead people.). I like Jaime, and moreover it's refreshing to see a mature heroine for once (She's 44 years old). As with all of Armstrong's books in this series, the plot presents plenty of suspense and more than a dollop of romance. I think the novel could stand on its own, so you could start here, but I did enjoy and recommend the other books and if you read this one first it would act as a spoiler on some points.
I love it! I didn't want to put it down!
Another great Women of the Otherworld story! This one adds depth and background to Jaime and Jeremy's relationship. Has a very memorable sex scene that is smoldering hot because it fits the main characters personalities to a 'T'. I've read over 200 books since this one and the scene I am referring to has set the bar for the books I've read since (not many have met the bar). Do yourself a favor and listen to the audiobooks of this series...it gives the reader a the feeling of being immersed in the Otherwold universe. You'll thank me later!
I loved this. It added even more information to the background of a lot of the characters and it was a joy to see Jeremy lose that laid-back cool of his to Jaime's teasing. Blinding story! Can't wait for the next one.
Hollywood psychic Jaime Vegas had been asked to take part in a TV special. What none of the others knew, Jaime was the real thing and during her time in the Brentwood house (rented for production of the special), she discovered several ghosts that left her (the necromancer delegate to the supernatural council) stunned and confused about what had happened to these children. With the help of Jeremy (a werewolf she is attracted to) and Eve (a half-demon ghost), she attempts to free the spirits and find the monsters who could have done this to them. Book 7 ¿.. Interesting, the interaction between characters was good, I really liked all of the characters, there are a lot of them too. I am not sure Jaime¿s sexual displays were needed, but they were interesting. I may have to read some of the previous books (it may answer a few questions), but the author did a good job of telling enough of the other stories that this can be a stand alone book but I am just the type that once other adventures (like being kidnapped before) are hinted at, I need to know more about them. I will be putting Kelley Armstrong on my tbr (to be read list), but not necessarily on the top.
Interesting book, Spiritualists, Werewolves & Magicans
Some Kelley Armstrong books I like more than others, depending on the narrator. I like Jamie the necromancer. She's a mature woman of the world. She's funny and, in spite of the supernatural things that happen in the story, her character is very real. The story and charcters were interesting. I like that the ghost Eve is in the story, as well as Jamie's romantic interest -- Jeremy the werewolf -- is in this tale. Great action, romance, supernatural stuff, and spots of humor.
Book 7 in Armstrong's Women of the Otherworld. This volume stars one of my favorite of Armstrong's characters, the necromancer Jaime Vegas. She sees ghosts, and makes her living as a medium, traveling the show circuit. She and two other mediums are tapped to do a reality show which is supposed to end by contacting Marilyn Monroe. Meanwhile Jaime is being contacted by ghosts that she can't quite hear or see, and she believes are the ghosts of children, and she determines to understand them and free them from whatever bond is holding them. Meanwhile, her relationship with the Alpha of the wolf pack, Jeremy, becomes the intimate one she dreamed of from when she first met him.Strong entry in a strong series.
The 7th book in Kelley Armstrong's Women of the Otherworld series focuses on necromancer and public spiritualist, Jaime Vegas. Jaime joins a team of spiritualists for a t.v. show attempting to "talk" to Marilyn Monroe. She gets paired with a Brit (who is very similar to a certain psychic on the Travel Channel's Most Haunted. Actually, not sure he is still on there.) and a young newcomer. While on set, Jaime discovers real ghosts and a mystery that only she and her friends in the council can solve.I really enjoyed this one. I was waiting for Jaime to get her own story. She has always seemed like the weak one comparatively in the other books. Here she gets to be strong and show her abilities more. Plus she finally gets Jeremy on his own and away from his Pack. Leads to some...fun.
Kelley Armstrong is a progeny when it comes to supernatural writing. Her books leave you breathless with their racy romances, the constant struggles, and the exciting stories. She does all of this effortlessly and you have no choice but to plummet without stumbling straight into her world. She has created such a strong presence in all of her characters that everything about them makes them seem real! You get so caught up in their stories that you feel you are a part of them. I cannot say enough good things about Kelley!
Kelley Armstrong is surprisingly hit or miss with me. I loved, loved, loved Bitten but then didn't like her next few books. I figured that I just loved Clay. But then I read this book, and my new conclusion is that when she writes about werewolves, I somehow buy into her books, but when she writes about witches I don't. (don't ask me why...) So this book is about the alpha werewolf, Jeremy, and Jaime Vegas who has lusted for him from a far for some years now. There is magic and evil and plain stupidity mixed up into it too, with a good mystery, though I always hate the idea of children suffering, and these villains are truly villainous. I enjoyed it and was pleased to find another Armstrong book that I readily liked again..
My Summary: Jamie's always known where she wanted to go with her career, and when she gets invited to co-star on a spiritualist reality TV show, she knows she's almost there - getting her own show. Along with three other spiritualists (none of whom actually have any real powers), Jamie is supposed to summon the spirit of Marilyn Monroe and uncover the truth behind her untimely death.But things don't go as planned. Almost as soon as Jamie unpacks her things, she realizes there is something 'off' about the house. There are troubled spirits around, but they won't make contact with her, choosing instead to poke and prod and pinch her when she's alone. More than a little disturbed by this, Jamie utilizes her multitude of contacts in the supernatural world, trying to discover what could have happened to these spirits and how to release them from limbo. But what Jamie discovers is more horrifying than anyone could ever have imagined...My Thoughts: If you guys read my blog regularly, then you know that Kelley Armstrong is, without a doubt, one of my all-time favourite authors. Her writing is flawless, and her stories are always jam-packed with action and mystery and romance - it's really difficult not to enjoy her novels, and No Humans Involved was no exception! I loved Jamie's 'voice' - in previous books and from the points of view of other characters, she seemed like a bit of a ditz, but not here. In No Humans Involved, you get to see just how bad-ass Jamie Vegas can be.I especially loved the romance element! Poor Jamie's been (secretly) in love with Jeremy for years, but he's always been a little bit oblivious... until now. It seems as if Jeremy's had feelings for Jamie too, and in this novel we really got to see the development of the relationship between these two characters who appear to be polar opposites.Final Thoughts: If you're a fan of supernatural romance and mystery, you should definitely check out this series from the reining queen of supernatural fiction! You will not be disappointed.
As soon as I read "Bitten", the first book in this series, I was grabbed. I had to honestly run out the next day and buy all of the remaining books in the series. My hands down favorite books in this series are the books containing the Pack (found predominantly in "Bitten" (book 1), "Stolen" (book 2), "Broken" (book 6) and "Frostbite" (book 10)). I personally find the Pack to be entirely enchanting, I cannot get Clay, Elena or Jeremy out of my head. When I read the other books in the series, "Haunted", "Dime Store Magic", "Industrial Magic", etc., I had a difficult time really getting into the books because I personally felt that I did not connect to the characters of Paige, Lucas, Jamie, Savannah, Eve, etc., as well as I connected to the wolf pack. However, this book changed this...Jamie wasn't my favorite character by any means, she came off in the other books as the flaky necromancer who had a school girl crush on Jeremy. But after reading this book, she is actually growing on me a lot more (unlike Paige who I cannot wrap my head around even after reading 2 of her books). But then again, I may like this book more so because it involved Jeremy...Regardless, I love the passion in Jamie and Jeremy's relationship, I find it to be more real than the relationship between Paige and Lucas, but not quite on par with Elena and Clay's relationship. I find it refreshing that Jeremy isn't always surrounded by his pack in this story, therefore letting his true character shine. We learn much more about Jeremy, even more than what is revealed about him in "Men of the Otherworld", though I still have no idea what his mother is and that aspect of him does play quite a large role in this book... Jamie, however, does shine as a strong female character in this book, well as much as she can without having the ability of a werewolf or a witch. She uses her powers to the full extent and even pushes them further than she ever thought possible. I also didn't mind Eve in this story, I found her growing on me more so than in her own novel "Haunted".Overall, I would say that because this is the 7th book in the series (not including obviously the other 5ish books that come after it), that this is the 3rd best book by far.
I'm a fan of Kelley Armstrong's Women of the Otherworld series. One thing that makes the series different is that its told from different perspectives--usually female and written in first person. The first two books are narrated by Elena, a werewolf, the next two by Paige, a witch and so on. I rather like that--I suspect its part of what keeps this series fresh. This particular book is focused on and narrated by Jaime Vegas, a necromancer (she sees dead people). I like Jaime, and moreover it's refreshing to see a mature heroine for once (She's 44 years old). As with all of Armstrong's books in this series, the plot presents plenty of suspense and more than a dollop of romance. I think the novel could stand on its own, so you could start here, but I did enjoy and recommend the other books and if you read this one first, it would act as a spoiler on some points for the earlier books.
Celebrity medium Jaime Vegas is on the set of her newest media endeavor, a reality show in which she and two other mediums will try and summon the spirit of Marilyn Monroe. Jaime has a bit of a problem, though: she's the real deal. She's a necromancer and sees ghosts on a regular basis. So when the spooks in the house's garden start to spook her, Jaime sets on on an investigation to find out what happened to mute these lost souls and how to bring their murderers to justice.I read this as an old ARC given to me by a family friend. I've heard great things about Kelley Armstrong, and I'm torn after reading this book. The writing here is fabulous. The plot is fast and suspenseful, and it was hard to put the book down. Jaime was an interesting character and I loved how she handled the seances and tried to "help" her not-so-gifted fellow mediums. The problem for me? The book was way too dark for my tastes. Obviously with the lead character as a necromancer, the dead are going to show up. Some of the instances were extremely creepy. The sex scene was also too crude for my taste. Quite simply, it's not my sort of book--but the writing is fabulous, and I can see why Armstrong is well-regarded. I'd like to read more of her work--just on slightly different subject matter.
This book focuses on Jaime, the necromancer, and Jeremy, the werewolf alpha. Clay and Elena are present via phone, the latter having given birth to twins and busy taking care of them. Jaimie is bound and determined to convince Jeremy that a relationship will work, and she's using all her wiles to tempt him (some very hot scenes more suited to an Anita Blake book in there :) ). But at the same time, she's signed up for a reality tv show that aims to raise the ghost of Marilyn Monroe. The only problem is that other ghosts keep butting in, and she has to solve a mystery in the backyard of the house she's staying in. I liked seeing things from Jaimie's perspective, she's been in the background, and chafing at it, for a while, though I kept conflating her with the woman in Beyond Black and wondering at her unbridled sexuality. The plot kept me turning pages, and it was good to see Jaimie come into her own. Lots to look forward in the next book ... [ dig dig dig ] hrm, Personal Demon is told from the perspective of Hope, the half demon in this book. I didn't connect with her as much, but the other narrator is Lucas Cortez, so that could be interesting.
What can I say - No Humans Involved is another great installment in the Women of the Otherworld series. From her appearances in several of the other books in the series, I wasn't sure how much I would enjoy Jamie's story, but I pleasantly surprised. The plot is original, with fantastic witty dialog. Jamie is a strong, engaging and sassy character.My only gripe with the book (and it's a small one) is that the romance between Jamie and Jeremy really is secondary to the plot. After all the build-up in the past few books, I was hoping for a bit more. Don't get me wrong, the plot twists were compelling and the characters, well-drawn and entertaining, but the "romance" was lacking something. Overall, No Humans Involved is another solid foray into the paranormal romance genre. I am so happy to have discovered Kelley Armstrong! She is an amazingly creative and delightfully diverting author, and I can't wait to get my hands on book 8!
Jamie Vegas, a clairvoyant, actually pretending for television. Is brought to a haunted home that her and others like her are to work together to unravel the past of the home. Jeremy Danver, alpha pack leader, comes to help Jamie when she starts hearing actually voices that it causing problem for her to pretend nothing is actually there. Jamie has been drawn to Jeremy, but without much acknowledgement from Jeremy. Jeremy may have been hiding a few things from Jamie, and she is set to unravel herself.
Even though I read this novel while under the influence of Lortabs, a time when your mind tends to wander all over the place, this book managed to sink its hooks into me and wouldn't let go for the love of god, country, or money - so you know that it must be damned good!On the set of a TV special, Jaime stumbles upon a garden full of ghosts that can touch her, but cannot speak or be summoned. Puzzled and disturbed, she asks Jeremy to help her investigate. Interrogations of ghosts, skulking about in alleys and sex toy shops, and calling upon help from beyond all ensue, at times to the immense hillarity of the reader.The process of investigating is a big adventure for them, because neither Jaime or Jeremy have ever been allowed to truly take part in the Council's investigations. Jaime has only been asked for a summoning when needed, and Jeremy has always been too protected by Clay and Elena to do much more than research problems as they come up. This book allows both of them to shine in a way they never would be able to with the other characters around. And the, er, "romance"? Perhaps it was tame, but it was about time that Jeremy got some. ::grins::Bravo to Ms. Armstrong for another fine novel!
I love this series. A lot. It¿s well developed, well-rounded, and well written. The heroines are strong and yet versatile, and the relationships make sense. A very nice series indeed.This specific book could, if you chose, be read out of order without much confusion. Jaime, the narrator, hasn¿t been a huge part of the previous books, and the parts she has played are touched on as good reminders of her background or ways to introduce new readers to her. (I suspect that the format change from paperback to hardback made it a priority that this book be able to support readers who are new to the series.) There are plot points from prior books that will be spoiled if this one is read first, and there are nuances to character that will be missed, but the book should hook new readers as well as old.As to that hook, it starts off with Jaime preparing for a séance to raise the spirit of Marilyn Monroe and discovering that she¿s going to be staying in a house where she¿ll be required to eat her meals inches away from a hanged man ¿ only he¿s a ghost, so she¿s the only one who notices. Jaime is a necromancer, and her powers of being able to see and contact the dead alert her to the presence of half-ghosts in the garden¿ ghosts which shouldn¿t exist in the fashion they do. It¿s written with a good blend of humor and substance, romance and action and thought. This is possibly my second favorite book in the series, possibly my third fav. But it¿s definitely near the top of the series, and comes with high praise from me.
I was very glad to see this book on a prominent book end at the book store when I went to pick it up. It was a really find installment to the series and I love Jamies character. I reccomend it to all paranormal fans.
Not bad, but pretty slow going. As with the rest of Kelley Armstrong's books, this is internally consistent fantasy - she doesn't play fast with the rules that she has set up for her world.
Not a bad book. The plot of the novel was interesting, the conceit behind it clever (and what if they're right? A disturbing notion...), the seduction scene was delightful, and the protagonist's response the final situation-of-mortal-danger was inspired, although the setup for it was perhaps a trifle contrived. The characterization was fairly good: I did find myself sometimes losing track of who was whom, but I'll lay that down to not having read the rest of the series.However...If I'd wanted to read a Laurell K Hamilton book (female necromancer romantically involved with a werewolf in a contemporary urban setting, y'know), I'd have picked up a Laurell K Hamilton book. If the author had found a different set of characteristics for her character, so to speak, or had done it before Ms. Hamilton, I'd be more inclined to read more of this series.
Love the series!