If there was one thing that was a negative it was the lack of previous characters from Nightshade in Wolfsbane. And the adventure Cremer takes us on! We aren’t in Colorado anymore, Toto! The new world in Wolfsbane is definitely different than what we experienced in Nightshade Series – with a lot more heartache and danger. The world of the Searchers, Guardians, and Keepers is so complex – there were times I had to go back and reread certain parts just to make sure I was understanding the history (which I didn’t mind). HISTORY IS AWESOME!Ĭremer builds a world that is so detailed and rich with history (History teachers FTW!) – you can tell that there is just so much planning that went into how these books would flow with each other. Regardless of what team you are on, the plot of Wolfsbane is what keeps the need to finish this book as fast as possible going. Cremer laid the foundation in Nightshade and Wolfsbane took off and never looked back. It was full of twists and turns and drama and awesomeness all rolled up into one excellent sequel.Ĭremer takes the reader on one heck of a ride with Wolfsbane. I loved Wolfsbane as much as I loved Nightshade but, y’all, this book was intense. I’m one of those gals that if I can wait for the whole series to be released THEN read them – I’m a much happier reader. I put off reading Wolfsbane for a while – as much as I loved Nightshade I KNEW there was gonna be a cliffhanger and I just couldn’t put myself through the wait. Is Ren worth the price of her freedom? And will Shay stand by her side no matter what? Now in control of her own destiny, Calla must decide which battles are worth fighting and how many trials true love can endure and still survive. But then the Searchers make her an offer, one that gives her the chance to destroy her former masters and save the pack and the man she left behind. My blood grew cold.When Calla Tor wakes up in the lair of the Searchers, her sworn enemies, she’s certain her days are numbered. I couldn’t see wel in the dim light, but I could tel this shirt wasn’t mine, or rather, wasn’t Shay’s borrowed sweater-the one I’d been wearing the night everything changed. The fabric was smooth, with no sign of rips or tears from the crossbow bolts. My fingers moved along the surface of my shirt. It took me a moment to realize that the screams had been my own, each cry clawing my throat until it was raw. I took a couple of painful swal ows, trying to moisten my parched mouth.
The room became stil, flooded with silence.
I sat up with a gasp, blinking into the shadows.
A terrible weight pressed into my chest, making me struggle for each breath as I lay drowning in my own blood. To quickly assess the difficulty of the text, read a short excerpt:ĭante, PurgatorioONEI COULDN’T SHUT OUT the screams.
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