In the Forests of the Night (Den of Shadows, 1, Band 1) - Hardcover

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Amelia Atwater-Rhodes is 14 years old and lives in Concord, Massachusetts. She wrote In the Forests of the Night when she was 13.

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born to the name of Rachel Weatere in the year 1684, more than three hundred years ago.

The one who changed me named me Risika, and Risika I became, though I never asked what it meant.  I continue to call myself Risika, even though I was transformed into what I am against my will.

By day, Risika sleeps in a shaded room in Concord, Massachusetts.  By night, she hunts the streets of New York City.  She is used to being alone.

But now someone is following Risika.  Someone has left her a black rose, the same sort of rose that sealed her fate three hundred years ago.

Three hundred years ago Risika had a family -- a brother and a sister who loved her.  Three hundred years ago she was human.

Now she is a vampire, a powerful one.  And her past has come back to torment her.

This atmospheric, haunting tale marks the stunning debut of a promising fourteen-year-old novel

Aus dem Klappentext

born to the name of Rachel Weatere in the year 1684, more than three hundred years ago.

The one who changed me named me Risika, and Risika I became, though I never asked what it meant. I continue to call myself Risika, even though I was transformed into what I am against my will.

By day, Risika sleeps in a shaded room in Concord, Massachusetts. By night, she hunts the streets of New York City. She is used to being alone.

But now someone is following Risika. Someone has left her a black rose, the same sort of rose that sealed her fate three hundred years ago.

Three hundred years ago Risika had a family -- a brother and a sister who loved her. Three hundred years ago she was human.

Now she is a vampire, a powerful one. And her past has come back to torment her.

This atmospheric, haunting tale marks the stunning debut of a promising fourteen-year-old novel

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Excerpt

A minute or an hour later, I woke for a moment in a dark place. There was nolight and no sound, only pain and the thick, warm liquid that was being forcedpast my lips.

I swallowed again and again before my head cleared. The liquid was bittersweet,and as I drank I had an impression of power and . . . not life or death, buttime. And strength and eternity . . .

Finally I realized what I had been drinking. I pushed away the wrist thatsomeone was holding to my lips, but I was weak, and it was so tempting.

"Temptation." The voice was in my ears and my head, and I recognized itas Ather's.

Once again I pushed away the wrist, though my body screamed at me for doing so.Ather was insistent, but so was I. I somehow managed to turn my head away,despite the pain that shot through me with each beat of my heart. I could hearmy own pulse in my ears, and it quickened until I could hardly breathe past it,but still I pushed away the blood. I believed for that second, in my immortalsoul, and would not abandon it ? not willingly.

Suddenly Ather was gone. I was alone.

I could feel the blood in my veins, entering my body, soul, and mind. I couldnot get my breath; my head pounded and my heart raced. Then they both slowed.

I heard my own heart stop.

I felt my breath still.

My vision faded, and the blackness filled my mind.

Copyright © 1999 Amelia Atwater-Rhodes. All rights reserved.
ISBN: 0-385-32674-2