Book Description
What if the hottest guy in the world was hiding a nameless evil and all he wanted was you?At the start of this heart-pounding new installment of the bestselling House of Night series, Zoey's friends have her back again and Stevie Rae and the red fledglings aren't Neferet's secrets any longer. But an unexpected danger has emerged. Neferet guards her powerful new consort, Kalona, and no one at the House of Night seems to understand the threat he poses. Kalona looks gorgeous, and he has the House of Night under his spell. A past life holds the key to breaking his rapidly spreading influence, but what if this past life shows Zoey secrets she doesn't want to hear and truths she can't face?
On the run and holed up in Tulsa's Prohibition-era tunnels, Zoey and her gang must discover a way to deal with something that might bring them all down. Meanwhile, Zoey has a few other little problems. The red fledglings have cleaned up well--they've even managed to make the dark, creepy tunnels feel more like home--but are they really as friendly as they seem? On the boyfriend front, Zoey has a chance to make things right with super-hot ex-, Eric, but she can't stop thinking about Stark, the archer who died in her arms after one unforgettable night, and she is driven to try to save him from Neferet's sinister influence at all costs. Will anyone believe the power evil has to hide among us?
An Interview with P.C. Cast
Amazon.com: Why vampyres? What was intriguing to you about them? (Also, why "y"?)
P.C. Cast: Actually, the idea for the series originated with my fabulous agent, Meredith Bernstein. We were at RWA [Romance Writers of America] Nationals in Reno several years ago and Meredith said she had an idea for a series she'd like to see me write. Then she said the three magic words: vampire finishing school. I instantly thought of YA because I'd been reading the Hawksong books by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes--so my head was already in YA. Also, I've been teaching high school English since 1993 (I'm from a family of teachers) so I definitely knew my audience. Basically, it sounded like fun to write, so I jumped in even though I'd only written fantasy and paranormal romance up until then.
Oh, and the spelling is just my choice 'cause I like the way it looks!
Amazon.com: I don't want to draw too many comparisons between your series and Twilight, because they are completely different types of stories. However, I am curious if the popularity of that series has changed the way you see your genre, or do you even see it being the same genre?
PC: I see my genre as YA, and to me that encompasses everyone from Rowling to Laurie Halse Anderson to Janice Erlbaum. So, yes, Twilight fits in the same genre. And while I enjoy Ms. Meyer's books very much, I think the genre has been growing and changing and gaining popularity steadily over the past decade--mostly thanks to Ms. Rowling! As a high school English teacher I certainly noticed the increase in sophistication and popularity of the genre some time ago. Today's YA has an incredible range and depth, and it deals with real coming of age issues in varied and interesting ways. I'm proud to be a member of the ranks of YA authors!
Amazon.com: Can you talk a little bit about the role that religion plays in the novels? The whole series revolves around the worship of Nyx, the Goddess of Night, and Hunted really digs into questions of faith and free will (often related to what guy Zoey will be drawn to next...very clever to make that her weakness!). At various points in the series you also have People of Faith, Catholic nuns, and Cherokee legend. How do you see all these elements working together?
PC: Very clever of you to recognize the ramifications of Zoey's weakness!
It's easy for me to weave the different religious elements of the world together because it's not really "religion" I'm dealing with when I create the conflicts and faith foundations in the House of Night. Instead I see it as a way to illuminate coming of age issues, which often deal with conformity and obsession and trying to learn boundaries. I chose to give my heroine a belief system in which to live that is matriarchal because my purpose is to empower young women, and by allowing Zoey to join a world where women are valued as leaders and really have no glass ceiling, except the ones they create for themselves, as exemplified by Neferet, I have a springboard for a lot of girl power.
Amazon.com: What were some of your influences for the House of Night school?
PC: South Intermediate High School in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma! I just looked around me and wrote what I saw. I also write what I wish I could see, as in the amazing HoN facility and their very cool classes. I'd love to teach a Vampyre Sociology class!
Amazon.com: How has Kristin being in school affected the series as it's progressed? The scenes with friends hanging out and geeking out on movies in the dorm seem pretty familiar...
PC: When the series started Kristin was nineteen and was still living at home her first semester in college. And then when she did move out it certainly wasn't into a dorm that looked as cool as the House of Night dorms! But she does DEFINITELY geek out with her friends. (She's going to kill me for that…)
Amazon.com: When did the two of you decide to write a book together? How does your writing process work?
PC: I brought Kristin in while I was writing the first three chapters of Marked. I kept stumbling over silly little things, like specific slang that I thought I knew, but found out once I started writing about teenagers that MY deeply buried inner teen from the 70's kept trying to resurface and butt in with her slang! Kristin keeps me straight about that. She also says she keeps Zoey from "sounding like a 40-something disgruntled school teacher." Sigh.
We're on book six of the series, and we have the process down. We do some brainstorming, then I write the first draft, often asking Kristin questions right in the manuscript or leaving blanks for her to fill in. Then I send the entire thing to her, and she goes through it, answering questions, filling in blanks, and asking me questions/making comments of her own. She sends it back to me and I go through it again. Then it's ready to go to St. Martin's and our lovely editor, Jennifer Weis. It sounds like a tedious process, but it's really very freeing for me. I can write whatever and know Kristin has my back.
Amazon.com: Zoey has a few mother-daughter-like relationships--with her mom, her grandma, Neferet, Nyx. How much does your mother-daughter relationship inform your writing? Is it ever awkward?
PC: Hmm...that's a good question. Kristin and I have a unique writing relationship. Actually, I probably wouldn't even consider writing with anyone else--it's unusually easy with my daughter (perhaps because I can beat her?). She and I have always been close, and we have a very honest relationship. Talking with each other has never been a problem, so we're used to communicating. That helps a lot in a co-author situation.
Regarding the mother-daughter relationships in the book: clearly Zoey's relationship with her own mom is nothing like Kristin and mine. Sadly, both of us have met many Linda Heffers here in Oklahoma, which is why she is so easy--and disturbing--for us to write. When I write Nyx's words I often think about how I feel about Kristin, and then try to expand that to how this goddess would view the vampyres, especially Zoey, as her children.
We get the awkward question often because of the sexual tension in the books. Kristin and I do discuss the temperature of the books and the specific situations a lot. It doesn't feel awkward between us because we're used to communicating, and because we don't just stick sex in our series to be gratuitous. The sexual issues are there because they're realistic to teenagers. Yes, Zoey has several boyfriends--often at the same time. But in six books she has had sex once, and that was because she was manipulated and used by a charismatic adult. It wasn't awkward writing those parts with my daughter--we believe in the reality of the books and the points we make about mistakes and consequences.
Amazon.com: Each of the books sort of has its own personality. Chosen, for example, was more focused on the friends and the guys, and Untamed was much more deeply focused on folklore and goddess rituals. Do you think that's influenced by each of your interests, with Kristin having more influence on one book and P.C. showing up more in another? Or is that just the natural arc of the story?
PC: I think the shifting emphasis is because of the natural arc of the story. Think about your own life. Doesn't your focus shift from time to time? I know mine does. Actually, sometimes it feels like events happen in waves: lots of guy, no guys, friend stres, no friend stress, crazy stuff at school, kinda calm school, etc. So I guess fiction is just mimicking the patterns I see in life.
Amazon.com: Even though it has a satisfying ending (no spoilers!) Hunted certainly doesn't seem like the end of Zoey's story. What's next?
PC: Zoey has to save the world! And it's definitely a big job. Seriously, now that the dark influences that have been lurking on the periphery of Zoey's world have been brought out into the open, it's time to deal with them. Of course that's a lot harder than "Okay, Z, kick their butts and save the world now!" sounds. Especially as there are many layers to the House of Night world and often good appears bad, and bad seems terribly attractive.
About the Author
P.C. Cast is the author of the House of Night novels, including Marked, Betrayed, Chosen, and Untamed.
Ms. Cast is a #1 New York Times and USA Today Best-Selling author and a member of the Oklahoma Writers Hall of Fame. With more than 20 million copies in print in over 40 countries, her novels have been awarded the prestigious Oklahoma Book Award, YALSA Quick Pick for Reluctant Readers, Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award, the Prism, Holt Medallion, Daphne du Maurier, Booksellers’ Best, and the Laurel Wreath.
Ms. Cast was born in the Midwest and grew up being shuttled back and forth between Illinois and Oklahoma, which is where she fell in love with Quarter Horses and mythology. After high school she joined the United States Air Force and began public speaking and writing. After her tour in the USAF, she taught high school for 15 years before retiring to write full time. She now lives in Oregon surrounded by beloved cats, dogs, horses, and family.
Kristin Cast is a #1 New York Times and #1 USA Today bestselling author who teams with her mother to write the wildly successful HOUSE OF NIGHT series. She has editorial credits, a thriving t-shirt line, and a passion for all things paranormal. When away from her writing desk, Kristin loves going on adventures with her friends, family, and significant other, playing with her dogs (Grace Kelly and Hobbs the Tiny Dragon), and is obsessed with her baby. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Hunted
A House of Night NovelBy Cast, P. C.St. Martin's Griffin
Copyright © 2009 Cast, P. C.
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9780312379827
Chapter One The dream began with the sound of wings. In retrospect I realize I
should have known that was a bad sign, what with the Raven
Mockers being set loose and all, but in my dream it was just background
noise, kinda like a fan whirring or the TV turned on to the
QVC. In my dream I was standing in the middle of a beautiful meadow.
It was night, but there was an enormous full moon hovering just
above the trees that framed the meadow. It cast a silver blue light
strong enough to throw shadows and made everything look like it
was underwater, an impression that was strengthened by the gentle
breeze blowing the soft grasses against my bare legs in sweeps and
whirls like waves lapping sweetly against a shore. That same wind was
lifting my thick dark hair from my naked shoulders and it felt like silk
floating against my skin. Bare legs? Naked shoulders? I looked down and let out a little yip of surprise. I was wearing a
seriously short buckskin minidress. The top of it was cut in a wide
V, front and back, so that it hung off my shoulders, leaving lots of
skin visible. The dress itself was amazing. It was white and decorated
with fringe, feathers, and shells and seemed to glow in the moonlight.
All over it was beaded with intricate designs that were impossibly
beautiful. My imagination is so darn cool! The dress tickled a memory, but I ignored it. I didn’t want to think
too hard— I was dreaming! Instead of pondering déjà vu moments I
danced gracefully through the meadow, wondering if Zac Efron or
even Johnny Depp was going to suddenly appear and flirt outrageously
with me.
I peeked around as I twirled and swayed with the wind and thought
I saw the shadows flicker and move oddly within the massive trees. I
stopped and was trying to squint so I could get a closer look at what
was going on in the darkness. Knowing me and my weird dreams, I’d
created bottles of brown pop hanging from the limbs like bizarre fruit,
just waiting for me to pick them. That’s when he appeared. At the edge of the meadow, just inside the shadows of the trees, a
shape materialized. I could see his body because the moonlight
caught the smooth, naked lines of his skin. Naked? I stopped. Had my imagination lost its mind? I wasn’t really up
to frolicking around a meadow with a naked guy, even if he was the
amazingly mysterious Mr. Johnny Depp. “You hesitate, my love?” At the sound of his voice a shiver passed through my body, and
terrible, mocking laughter whispered through the leaves of the trees.
“Who are you?” I was glad that my dream voice didn’t betray the
fear I was feeling. His laughter was as deep and beautiful as his voice, and as frightening.
It echoed in the limbs of the watching trees until it drifted almost
visible in the air around me. “Do you pretend you do not know me?” His voice brushed against my body, making the little hairs on my
arms stand up. “Yeah, I know you. I made you up. This is my dream. You’re a mixture
of Zac and Johnny.” I hesitated, peering at him. I spoke nonchalantly
even though my heart was beating like crazy because it was
already obvious this guy was not a mixture of those two actors. “Well,
maybe you’re Superman or Prince Charming,” I said, reaching for
anything but the truth. “I am no figment of your imagination. You know me. Your soul knows
me.” I hadn’t moved my feet, but my body was slowly being drawn toward
him, like his voice was pulling me. I reached him and looked
up and up . . . It was Kalona. I’d known him from the first words he’d spoken. I
just hadn’t wanted to admit it to myself. How could I have dreamed
him? Nightmare—this had to be a nightmare and not a dream. His body was naked, but it wasn’t completely substantial. His
form wavered and shifted in time with the caressing breeze. Behind
him, in the dark green shadows of the trees, I could see the ghostly
shapes of his children, the Raven Mockers, as they clung to the limbs
with the hands and feet of men and stared at me with men’s eyes
from the mutated faces of birds.
“Do you still claim not to know me?” His eyes were dark— a starless sky. They seemed the most substantial
thing about him. That and his liquid voice. Even though this
is a nightmare, it’s still mine. I can just wake up! I want to wake up! I
want to wake up! But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wasn’t in control. Kalona was. He’d built
this dream, this dark, nightmare meadow, and somehow brought me
there, closing the door to reality behind us. “What do you want?” I said the words quickly so he couldn’t hear
my voice shaking. “You know what I want, my love. I want you.” “I am not your love.” “Of course you are.” He moved this time, stepping so close to me
that I could feel the chill that came from his unsubstantial body. “My
A-ya.” A-ya had been the name of the maiden the Cherokee Wise Womenhad created to trap him centuries ago. Panic spiked through me. “I’m
not A-ya!” “You command the elements,” his voice was a caress, awful and
wonderful, compelling and terrifying. “Gifts from my Goddess,” I said. “Once before you commanded the elements. You were made from
them. Fashioned to love me.” His massive dark wings stirred and lifted.
Beating forward softly, they enfolded me in a spectral embrace that
was cold as frost. “No! You must have me mixed up with someone else. I’m not A-ya.”“You’re wrong, my love. I feel her within you.” His wings pressed against my body, drawing me closer to him.
Even though his physical form was only semi-substantial, I could
feel him. His wings were soft. Winter cold against the warmth of
my dreaming self. The outline of his body was frigid mist. It burned
my skin, sending electric currents through me, heating me with a desire
I didn’t want to feel but was powerless to resist. His laugh was seductive. I wanted to drown in it. I leaned forward,
closing my eyes and gasping aloud as the chill of his spirit brushed
against my breasts, sending shooting sensations that were painful
but deliciously erotic to places in my body that made me feel out of
control. “You like the pain. It brings you pleasure.” His wings got more insistent,
his body harder and colder and more passionately painful as
it pressed against mine. “Surrender to me.” His voice, already beautiful,
was unimaginably seductive as he became aroused. “I spent centuries
in your arms. This time our joining will be controlled by me, and
you will revel in the plea sure I can bring you. Throw off the shackles of
your distant goddess and come to me. Be my love, truly, in body as well
as soul and I will give you the world!” The meaning of his words penetrated through the haze of pain and
pleasure like sunlight burning away dew. I found my will again, and
stumbled out of the embrace of his wings. Tendrils of icy black smoke
snaked around my body, clinging . . . touching . . . caressing . . .I shook myself like a pissed cat shaking off rain and the dark
wisps slid from my body. “No! I’m not your love. I’m not A-ya. And
I’ll never turn my back on Nyx!” When I spoke Nyx’s name, the nightmare shattered.
I sat straight up in bed, shaking and gasping. Stevie Rae was sleeping
soundly beside me, but Nala was wide awake. She was growling
softly. Her back was arched, her body was totally puffed up, and she
was staring slit- eyed at the air above me. “Ah, hell!” I shrieked and bounded off the bed, spinning around
and looking up, expecting to see Kalona hovering like a giant batbird
over us. Nothing. There was nothing there. I grabbed Nala and sat on the bed. With trembling hands I petted
her over and over. “It was just a bad dream . . . it was just a bad
dream . . . it was just a bad dream,” I told her, but I knew it was a lie.
Kalona was real, and somehow he was able to reach me through
my dreams. Copyright © 2009 by P.C. Cast + Kristin Cast. All rights reserved.
Continues...
Excerpted from Hunted by Cast, P. C. Copyright © 2009 by Cast, P. C.. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site. 
