Urban Shaman (Walker Papers Series #1)

Urban Shaman (Walker Papers Series #1)

by C. E. Murphy

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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781426834004
Publisher: Luna
Publication date: 06/01/2009
Series: Walker Papers Series , #1
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 416
Sales rank: 31,236
File size: 624 KB

About the Author

C.E. Murphy is the author of more than twenty books—along with a number of novellas and comics. Born in Alaska, currently living in Ireland, she does miss central heating, insulation and—sometimes--snow but through the wonders of the internet, her imagination and her close knit family, she’s never bored or lonely. While she does travel through time (sadly only forward, one second at a time) she can also be found online at www.cemurphy.net or @ce_murphy on Twitter

Read an Excerpt

Tuesday, January 4th, 6:45 a.m.

T here's nothing worse than a red-eye flight.

Well, all right, that's wildly untrue. There are lots of things worse than red-eye flights. There are starving children in Africa, hate crimes and Austin Powers's teeth. That's just off the top of my head.

But I was crammed into an airplane seat that wouldn't comfortably hold a four-year-old child, and had been for so many hours I was no longer certain what species I belonged to. I hadn't slept in over a day. I was convinced that if someone didn't stay awake, the airplane would fall out of the sky, and I couldn't trust anyone else to do the job.

My stomach was alternating between nausea from the airline meal I'd eaten hours earlier, and hunger from not eating another revolting meal more recently. I'd forgotten to take my contact lens case with me in my carry-on, and my eyes were burning. My spine was so bent out of shape I'd have to visit a chiropractor for a week to stand up straight again. I was flying back from a funeral to be fired.

Overall, starving children in Africa were taking a distant second to my own misery and discomfort. Shallow, but true.

A very small part of my mind was convinced that if the flight attendants would just let me into the unpres-surized luggage compartment to find my contact case, everything would miraculously be right with the world. None of them would let me, so my contacts were welded to my eyes. Every several minutes I decided it wasn't worth it and started to take them out. Every time, I remembered that they were my last pair and I'd have to suffer with glasses until I made an eye appointment.

I might have succumbed, but the glasses in question were also with my luggage. The idea of navigating a soft-focus world full of featureless faces gave me a headache.

Not that I didn't have one anyway.

I climbed over the round man sleeping peacefully beside me and went to the bathroom. At least I could take the contacts out and stew them in tap water for a few minutes. Anything would be better than keeping them in my eyes.

Anything except my reflection. Have you ever noticed that the mirror is by far the largest object in those tiny airplane restrooms? I was a sick pasty color under the flickering florescent light, my eyes much too green against a network of bloodshot vessels. I looked like a walking advertisement for one of those "wow" eye-drop commercials. Second runner-up for Least Attractive Feature on an International Flight was my hair. I put my contacts in two little paper cups and set them ostentatiously on the appropriate sides of the sink, then rubbed water through my hair to give it some life again.

Now I looked like a bloodshot porcupine. Big improvement. The only thing on my person that didn't look slimy was the brand-new silver choker necklace my mother'd given me just before she died. A Celtic cross pendant sat in the hollow of my throat. I wasn't used to jewelry, and now that I'd been reminded it was there, it felt mildly horrible, like someone was gently pushing his thumb against the delicate flesh. I shuddered and put my contacts back in before weaving my way back down the aisles to my seat. The flight attendants avoided me. I couldn't blame them.

I rested my forehead on a grease spot I'd left on the window earlier. The airlines, I thought, must have custodians who clean the windows, or there'd be an inches-thick layer of goo on them from people like me.

That thought was proof positive that I shouldn't be allowed to stay up for more than eighteen hours at a time. I have a bad habit of following every thought to its miserable, pathetic little end when I'm tired. I don't mean to. It's just that my brain and my tongue get unhinged. Though some of my less charitable acquaintances would say this condition didn't require sleep deprivation.

The plane had been descending for a while now, and I squinted at my heavy black wristwatch. The bright orange button for changing the time had become permanently depressed in Moscow, or maybe Venice. Probably Moscow; I'd found Moscow depressing, and saw no reason why the watch shouldn't. It claimed it was 5:50 p.m., which meant it was almost seven in the morning. I frowned out the window, trying to find the horizon. The sky wasn't turning gray yet, not flying into Seattle three days after New Year's. I blinked at the darkness, trying to unglue my contacts again.

My eyes teared up and I spent a few minutes with my hands over them, hoping perversely that I didn't blink the contacts out. By the time I could see again, the captain had announced the final descent into Seattle. Couldn't they find a less ominous phrase for it? I don't like flying as it is, even without the implication that before landing I might want to have all my worldly and spiritual affairs in order. I pressed my head against the window so I could see the ground when it came into view. Maybe I could convince it to let us land without it being our real final descent.

Or maybe not. The plane banked abruptly and began to climb again. A moment or two later the captain's voice crackled over the intercom.

"Sorry about that, folks. Little disagreement over who got to land next. We're going to take another spin around the Emerald City and then we'll have you at the gate right on time."

Why do airline pilots always call passengers "folks"? I don't usually take umbrage at generic terminology—I'm one of those forward-thinkers who believes that "man" encompasses the whole darned race—but at whatever o'clock in the morning, I thought it would be nice to be called something that suggested unwashed masses a little less. Ladies and gentlemen, for example. Nevermind that, being an almost six-foot-tall mechanic, I had a hard time passing for a lady on a good day, which this wasn't.

I watched lights slip away beneath us as we circled. If I have to fly, I like flying into cities in the dark of morning. There's something reassuring and likable about the purposeful skim of vehicles, zooming along to their destinations. The whisk of cars meant that the people driving them had a goal, somewhere to be, something to do. That was a hell of a lot more than I had.

I stared down at the moving lights. Maybe I didn't like them after all.

The plane dropped the distance that made me an active voyeur in people's lives, instead of a distant watcher. I could see individuals under the streetlights. Trees became sets of branches instead of blurry masses of brown.

A school went by below us, swingsets empty. The neighborhood was full of tidy, ordered streets. Carefully tended trees, bereft of leaves, lined uniformly trimmed lawns. Well-washed cars reflected the streetlights. Even from the air well before sunrise, it screamed out, This Is A Good Place To Live.

The next neighborhood over didn't look as posh. Wrong side of the metaphysical tracks. Cars were older, had duller paint and no wax jobs to make them gleam in the streetlights. Mismatched shingles on patched roofs stood out; lawns were overgrown. It wasn't that the owners didn't care. It was that the price of a lawnmower or a matched roof patch could be the difference between Christmas or no Christmas that year.

Not that I knew anything about it.

A whole street went by, lightless except for one amber-colored lamp, the kind that's supposed to cut through fog. It made the street seem unnaturally vivid, details coming into sharp-edged focus below me.

A modern church, an A-frame with a sharp, nasty spire, was lit by the edges of the lone amber light. Its parking lot was abandoned except for one car, parked at an angle across two spaces, one of its doors hanging open. I wondered if it closed at all. Probably: it was a behemoth from the seventies, the kind of car that will last forever. I grew up with that kind of car. Air bags or no, the little crumply things they make today don't seem as safe.

Someone tall and lean got out of the car, draping himself over the door as he looked down the street toward the functional light. Even from above I could see the glitter of light on the butterfly knife he played with, comfortable and familiar. Watching, I knew that he could play knife games in the dark and blindfolded, and he'd never stab a finger.

A woman broke into the amber light, running down the center of the street. She took incredibly long strides, eating a huge amount of distance with each step, but her head was down and her steps swerved, like she wasn't used to running. Her hair was very long, and swung loose, flaring out as she whipped her head back to look behind her.

I twisted in my seat as the plane left the subdivision behind, trying to see.

A pack of dogs leaked out of the darkness. Their coats were pale gold under the amber light, and they loped with the casual confidence of a hunting pack following easy prey.

The woman stumbled, the pack gained and the plane took me away from them.

"You don't understand. There is a woman in trouble out there." It was the fourth time I'd said it, and the pilot kept looking at me like I was on drugs. Well, maybe I was. Lack of sleep has the same effect as certain narcotics. I was lodged in the door of the cockpit, other passengers pushing out behind me. Fourteen minutes had passed since I saw the woman. There was a knot of discomfort in my stomach, like I'd throw up if I didn't find a way to help her. I kept hoping I'd burp and it would go away, but I didn't, and the pilot was still eyeing me.

"And you saw this from the plane," he said, also for the fourth time. He had that bright lilting sound to his voice that first grade teachers use to mask irritation. "There are lots of people in trouble, ma'am."

I closed my eyes. They screamed with pain, tears flooding as I opened them again. Through the upwell, I saw an expression of dismayed horror cross the pilot's face.

Well, if he was going to fall for it, I might as well milk it. "It was five minutes before we landed," I quavered. "We circled around and came in from the northwest." I lifted my wrist to show him the compass on my watch band, although I hoped that, being the pilot, he knew we'd approached from the northwest. "I was looking out the window. I saw a woman running down the street. There was a pack of dogs after her and a guy with a switchblade down the street in the direction she was running."

"Ma'am," he said, still very patiently. I reached out and took a fistful of his shirt. Actually, at the last moment, I grabbed the air in front of his shirt. I didn't think security could throw me out of the airport for grabbing air in a threatening fashion, not even in this post-9/11 age.

"Don't ma'am me…" I stared at his chest until my eyes focused enough to read his name badge. "Steve. Is that your name? Steve. Don't ma'am me, Captain Steve. I just need to know our rate of descent. Humor me, Captain Steve. I work for the police department. You don't want me to go to the six o'clock news after a murder's been discovered and tell them all about how the airline wouldn't lift a finger to help the woman who died."

I didn't know why I bothered. The woman was probably dead by now. Still, Captain Steve blanched and looked back over his shoulder at his instruments. I retrieved my hand and smiled at him. He blanched again. I guess my smile wasn't any better than my hair or eyes just now.

"Hurry," I said. "Once the sun comes up the streetlights will go off and I don't know if I'll be able to find her then."

* * *

I left my luggage in the airport and climbed into a cab, trying to work out the triangulation of height, speed and distance. "Drive," I said, without looking up.

"Where to, lady?"

"I don't know. Northwest."

"The airline? It's just a couple feet down the term—"

"To the northwest," I snarled. The cabby gave me an unfriendly look and drove. "Do you have a map?" I demanded a minute later.

"What for?"

"So I can figure out where we're going."

He turned around and stared at me.

"Watch the road!" I braced myself for impact. Somehow—without looking—he twitched the steering wheel and avoided the collision. I collapsed back into the seat, wide-eyed. "Map?" I asked, somewhat more politely.

"Yeah, here." He threw a city guide into my lap. I thumbed it open to find the airport.

Airplanes go fast. I realize this isn't a revelation to stun the world, but it was a little distressing to realize how far we'd flown in five minutes, and how long it would take to drive that. "All right, we're going northwest of the lake." I remembered seeing its off-colored shadow making a black mark below the plane as we'd left the subdivision behind. "Somewhere in Aurora."

"Think? That ain't such a good neighborhood, lady. You sure you wanna go there?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm trying to find somebody who's in trouble."

The cabby eyed me in the rearview. "That's the right place to look."

I glared at him through my eyebrows. He smiled, a thin I've-seen-it-all grin that didn't really have any humor in it. He had gray eyes under equally gray, bushy eyebrows. He had a thick neck and looked like he'd be at home chewing on a stogie. I asked if he had a cigarette. He turned around and looked at me again.

"Those things'll kill you, lady."

His voice was rough and deep like a lifetime smoker's. Surprise showed on my face and he gave me another soulless smile, reflected in the mirror. "My wife died of emphysema three years ago on our forty-eighth wedding anniversary. You want a smoke, kid, find it somewhere else."

Sometimes I wonder if I have a big old neon sign stamped on my forehead, flashing Asshole. I retaliated with stunning wit: "I'm not a kid."

Gray eyes darted to the mirror again, and back to the road. "You're what, twenty-six?"

Nobody ever guessed my age right. Since I was eleven, people have misguessed my age anywhere from three to seven years in one direction or the other. I felt my jaw drop.

"It's a gift," the cabby said. "A totally useless gift. I can tell how old people are."

I blinked at him.

"Great way to get good tips," he went on.

Table of Contents

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Urban Shaman (Walker Papers Series #1) 4 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 171 reviews.
JMac31 More than 1 year ago
Urban Shaman is an easy read along the same line as Jim Butcher's Dresden files. The characters are easy to relate to and interesting to follow as the story develops. I also like the sense of humor Murphy gives the main character. This is a great read if you are into detective stories or sci-fi and supernatural. I must admit that I am partial to books that are a part of an on going series. This allows you to watch as the author develops the characters over a series of books and allows you to see the characters in different situations. Urban Shaman is the first in a series of books, which to me increases the appeal.
AmorDeLibros More than 1 year ago
This book is fantastic, and I can't even tell you why! It's everything! I wouldn't do Jo justice if I attempted to describe her, she's just so brash and in-your-face. This is also a great opening book to an even better series (Thunderbird Falls and Coyote Dreams are even better!) which is great for when you get attached to a character and want to read more. (And trust me, you will get attached to Jo, and Gary, and even Mortison, for that matter!) Do not miss this!!
dalnewt More than 1 year ago
This book awkwardly intermingles Celtic myth with Native American legend to solve a rather slow moving supernatural murder mystery set in a rather mundane urban world. For me, the book just didn't work. The imagery of the demigod Cernunnos leading the Wild Hunt is extremely vivid, but the heroine's woo-woo shamanic (out-of-body) experiences combined with her exaggerated klutziness is close to unpalatable. Further, the murder/mystery solving is secondary to the whole woo-woo shamanic factor. The pace and plot are erratic, sometimes slowing down or racing during the heroine's spirit journeys, and, then, perversely launching into a real 'world' event at an inapposite pace. Resolution of the murders/mystery is also marred by a somewhat unsatisfactory climax in which the bad guy is partially healed. (I'm not a fan of 'healing' rather than destroying the bad guy.) The only good action occurs in a scanty two (maybe two and one-half) confrontations between the heroine and Cernunnos. Taken as a whole, I cannot recommend this book.
KarenJG More than 1 year ago
OH, goodie! A new-to-me favorite author with a large back list for weeks of reading pleasure! C.E. Murphy hits all my requirements for a "five star" favorite - her plotting, pacing and characterization skills suit my readerly preferences to a "t". By that I mean, the plotting is intricate, but not to the point that I feel lost or can't follow what's going on. The pacing is brisk, but not so breakneck that I don't have time to grasp one situation before rushing headlong in to the next, and the characters are multi-dimensional, with quirks, flaws and strengths both present on the page (well, screen) and implied in the spaces between words. I like that the violence is present, but not graphic or overdone. There is only a potential for future romance in this book, but I suspect that if and when it occurs, it will also suit my tastes (like the violence is - present, but not graphic or overdone). I'll be finishing the "shaman series," then moving on to some of her other series.
Guest More than 1 year ago
I'm not going to summarize what the book was about because it's written all over the review page already. However, this book was phenomenal!! I became so submerged in Murphy's world that I literally finished the book in 5 hours. It's a non stop read. Once you pick it up, you can't put it down. The characters are well rounded, and her unique perspective is wondrous. Murphy has quickly jumped to one of my favorite authors.
ca.bookwyrm on LibraryThing 8 months ago
Urban Shaman is an example of why I have a love-hate relationship with series books that have been out for some time before I read them: I love the fact that I can go get the next book now instead of having to wait for it to be released, but I hate that it¿s been out all this time (sitting on my shelf, even) and I haven¿t read it before this.The book (and presumably the series) focuses on Jo Walker, who hasn¿t opened up to her shaman powers until she, herself, is in dire need of healing. She comes to the mystic stuff naturally, being of Irish and Cherokee blood. She¿s essentially turned it off, however, until forced to acknowledge it.As with any book, there are things that will annoy some readers and slip completely past others. Some descriptions get more focus than others, and there will be times when you have to stretch your disbelief a touch more than is, perhaps, comfortable.But you know what? This is fantasy. We should expect that of a fantasy novel.All told, I really enjoyed this book. It¿s always hard to place a book in a numerical ranking of all the books I¿ve read, so I¿m not even going to try. But it was well written, well paced, and just plain fun.Grade: A
Squeex on LibraryThing 8 months ago
Such a good read and I have the series on must get portion of the WWBL. The line between reality and supernatural is thin at certain times of the year and Joanne finds herself standing between the two, protecting both with her growing shamanic abilities. Four shaman protection beans....
bookwormteri on LibraryThing 8 months ago
Meh. I couldn't get into this like I thought that I would. I felt like we were just thrown into it, without getting to know the characters at all. Maybe I will like the second book better because I am familiar with the characters. Plus, I felt like the plot was not explained very well. I walked away from this feeling a little confused, but not really caring......
les121 on LibraryThing 8 months ago
This novel has a few things going for it, but ultimately, I was somewhat disappointed with Urban Shaman. The plot is action packed and the supporting characters - especially Gary, Morrison, Billy, and Jen - are intriguing and well fleshed-out. I was also drawn in by the combination of Celtic and Native American mythology and the idea that shamanism is all about healing.However, I had difficulty connecting with the protagonist, Joanne. To me, her character just doesn¿t stand out amongst the slew of urban fantasy heroines with badass attitudes, supernatural abilities, and traumatic pasts. And without that element of uniqueness, I couldn¿t fully get into her story.Although I might have continued reading this series simply to watch the relationship between Joanne and Morrison deepen (I¿m a sucker for slowly developing romantic subplots), the descriptions of magic are what killed it for me. The supernatural is described in such vague, confusing, and sometimes contradictory terms that I often had no idea what was going on. During action sequences involving magic, I often found myself saying, ¿That doesn¿t even make sense!¿ and ¿How the heck did that happen?¿ By the end of the book, I was so frustrated that I had no desire to continue reading The Walker Papers series, even though I did become attached to the supporting cast.Overall, Urban Shaman is an entertaining book with an interesting mythos and lovable, well-developed secondary characters. But if you¿re looking for top-notch urban fantasy, then this isn¿t the book for you. For a much better series with a similar premise, I recommend Patricia Briggs¿ Mercy Thompson books.
MarFisk on LibraryThing 8 months ago
I¿ll be honest and say I picked up this book merely to support the author, a friend on Forward Motion, and it took me a bit to get to reading it with the state of my to-be-read shelf. However, once I started, it was really hard to put it aside to work on what I needed to get done¿and I stayed up way too late the last night on the ¿too close to the end¿ problem. It¿s a solid story with a likeable, mouthy character who drives her life even when fate seems to try to drive it for her. I suddenly understand why, after this one sale, she¿s had a cascading effect on the publishing industry. The story is good, the character compelling, and the sense of place, even when things are out of place, is wonderful. I didn¿t start out a grand fan of the urban fantasy trend, but I keep running into books that make modern day so much more interesting. This is definitely one of them. And a further sign of how good this book was¿I just picked up the next in the series . Note: This is a review I wrote back in 2006 and posted as a mixed post. I¿m pulling some of those out because people do search by the post titles and might miss some good ones. Also, I¿m still enjoying this series (as you can tell if you look at more recent reviews), and maybe some of you will be encouraged to start at the beginning.
topcat21 on LibraryThing 8 months ago
Mediocre ... character development was lacking, plot could be confusing, sometimes the magic didn't seem to have any rules - it was like whatever magic was called for would work. I'm not going to continue with this series - unless someone tells me that this all changes/improves as the series progresses.
Booknose on LibraryThing 8 months ago
I was impressed with this debut outing by C. E. Murphy, convincingly bringing together a half American Indian, half Irish mechanic/cop Shaman with a 6 century old feud between a God and his demigod son throw in some ancient legends and a Seattle cabbie and you've got Urban Shaman. One of the better paranormal fiction series first books I have read in a while. It usually takes more than one book for a series to really get good but this one, given it's break neck pace and the authors deft skill and research, really kicks it out well. I will be looking forward to reading the next one in this series.
TheBooknerd on LibraryThing 8 months ago
I'd have to say that, overall, it's a well-written book. To be honest, though, I mostly scanned the last few chapters. I wouldn't say that's any fault of the author's, though. I simply wasn't in a metaphysical mood and this book makes much with the metaphysical. I have to give kudos for the ending. There was enough resolution that I feel content should I never get around to the rest of the series. On the other hand, there was just enough of a tease to leave me curious about where Joanne Walker and co. will go from here.Nerdy Note: With some novels, it's obvious that the writer is/has been a literary student. C.E. Murphy has degrees in English and history. It shows in the canonical literary references peppered throughout the book. Being a literature student, myself, I love it when that happens. It makes me feel extra smart when I get the reference and extra motivated when I don't. My favorite from 'Urban Shaman' is when our heroine quotes Dante, only to be corrected by a 70-year old cab driver... 'Abandon all hope, ye who enter.' I think it's some sort of rule that all booknerds must know this quote. It's like manly men knowing the difference between a Phillips and a flathead.
ladycato on LibraryThing 8 months ago
I've wanted to read this book for ages, and I'm so glad I finally acquired and devoured it.Joanne Walker's having a lousy week. On a return flight to Seattle, she notices something peculiar in the street below - a woman fleeing a pack of dogs, and a sinister man with a knife. Super-rational Jo has trouble believing what she saw, much less convincing anyone else so she sets out to find the woman on her own, and finds her own share of trouble. The Wild Hunt is on the loose. They want that woman. And now that Jo's in the way and manifesting some peculiar powers of her own - like instant healing from fatal wounds - they want her, too. Oh, and then there's the dude with the knife. He's even worse.I loved this book! It was a fast, enjoyable, yet intelligent read. A few things were obvious, but the ending still surprised me and made it all the more delightful. Jo is a spunky and modern woman, but thoroughly like-able and easy to relate to. I can't wait to read the rest of the series and Murphy's other books.
TheDivineOomba on LibraryThing 8 months ago
It takes a different take on trend of Chick Lit plus Urban Fantasy because there are no vampires, no werewolves, just a few old age Gods. The biggest issue is the way the secondary characters seem to just accept Joanne's new abilities as Shaman, and that Magic Exists. I did like the randomness of the Wild Hunt and how they just appear in Seattle, rather than actually targeting Joanne because of her powers - in real life, crime is random.
amf0001 on LibraryThing 11 months ago
Nicely written, urban fantasy of the mythical hunt and the powers needed to stop it attacking our world. Joanne Walker, is a good heroine, works for the police, but not as a cop, as a mechanic, and is pleasantly quirky.
Jenson_AKA_DL on LibraryThing 11 months ago
Joanne Walker is a normal, logical minded lady and honorary mechanic at the Seattle Police Department. Until the day she is flying back from her mother's funeral and witnesses a woman being chased by a pack of dogs towards a nefarious looking man with a butterfly knife. Joanne immediately feels an instinctive need to find out what happened to the woman glimpsed through the airplane window and help her if possible. This starts her on a journey during which she will discover truths about herself and the world around her she never would have believed before.This urban fantasy was an enjoyable read mixing Native American and Celtic mythology together in a blend which was exciting and appealing. I enjoyed all the collection of unusual characters and was surprised by all the different twists and turns in the plot. I would certainly not hesitate to suggest this story to lovers of urban fantasy or Celtic mythology.
martiedawn on LibraryThing 11 months ago
Quick fluff read. A bit juvenile, but good to read between the more substantial, taxing, and involved books (like ASOIAF). The best part was the narrative style, worst part was the believability and I didn¿t like how it started.
Antares1 on LibraryThing 11 months ago
I found C.E. Murphy's Urban Shaman to be quite unique. Joanne Walker AKA Siobhan Walkingstick is heading home after her mother's funeral. She sees a woman being chased by a pack of dogs towards a man with a knife. Despite jet lag and the fact that she'll most likely be fired from her job as a mechanic in the Seattle police department, she hops into a cab and races out to rescue the woman. I wasn't sure I was going to like the story at first, but it grew on me. I liked that her fact that her heroine isn't some overly beautiful petite woman. Joanne is a tall, not skinny lady and seems like a regular person. She just doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut. The cab driver, Gary, becomes her sidekick in this adventure. They have a wonderful banter back and forth as he can see her inner beauty even if she can't. The possible romantic tension between Joanne and her boss is realistically handled.The book fuses Celtic and American Indian mythologies competently without being preachy. I've added her next two books to my wish list.
jjmcgaffey on LibraryThing 11 months ago
OK...I'd been actively ignoring Murphy's books despite repeated recommendations, then I read the short story Winter Moon (in the book by the same title) and decided that yes, I did want to read this. My sister lent me her copy (and was, as usual, somewhat amused/annoyed to get it back the next day) and I read this - and wow. Yes, I like this. Like Joanne, like Gary, like Morrison, like enemies (they're much better than the ones in Winter Moon, that's a book compressed to a novella and a lot left out). Lots of threads to explore, and unlike Briggs' Mercy, no-one's throwing themselves at the heroine...much better. I re-read Winter Moon too and understood it much better. Ok, get the rest of the series...
Phantasma on LibraryThing 11 months ago
I'm stunned that this is a first novel. I was engrossed in the world from the first page and ripped through it. I love Gary the cabdriving-septagenarian accidental sidekick. Joanie is an incredibly strong character and the "villians" are remarkably sympathetic. I find it amazing that Murphy has made her "bad guys" so easy to forgive. I honestly have to say that this is one of the few books I've read where I've only wished for good things to happen to every character. I cannot wait to start the next one!
wyvernfriend on LibraryThing 11 months ago
I made the mistake of picking this book up just after finishing another before going to sleep and found myself caught up in Jo's adventures and wishing I could meet her. Joanne Walker has been running from her abilities and past and now that it's caught up with her she needs to face the fact that normal is not going to be a permanent home for her.Fairly light and with some characters that do stretch belief it's a fun engaging read that I would go back to again.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I just love her writing. Characters are well developed and likable. Been years since I read this series but it is still a very good read.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Loved it! If you enjoy Faith Hunter's "Skinwalker" series you will love this!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Definitely plan to read the series.