Jaxon nods. “Pretty much—it takes at least two people to survive the Trial, or so they say.” He squeezes my hand, his gaze holding mine. “I keep thinking we should do it one day. The Circle needs someone to lead it who won’t let that happen.” “Us? Why? I thought you hated all the prince stuff?” I mean, being queen certainly isn’t on my agenda. I’m more interested in art school, even if I have to do a gap year because of the whole “trapped as a gargoyle for four months” mess that screwed up college apps and everything else in my life, apparently. “I do,” he assures me. “But there’s been a Third Great War brewing for a long time, and Hudson only exacerbated it with the shit he pulled before he died.” “Yes, let’s blame me for the fact that Dad and the wolves are teaming up with made vampires so they can wipe everyone else out of existence.” Hudson rolls his eyes. “What a wanker.” “What does that have to do with us being the head of the Circle?” I ask Jaxon, though I definitely want to follow up on Hudson’s comment later, because it sounded very different from anything else I’ve heard. “Gargoyles are peacekeepers,” Mekhi interjects. “If you and Jaxon take his parents’ place, you have a much better chance of keeping shit under control. Between Jaxon’s power and your ability to chill things out—” “I can do that?” I interrupt. “That’s what the old stories all say,” Rafael tells me. “Gargoyles were created to keep the balance among the

Crush: the stunning New York Times bestselling sequel to Crave

I want to be outraged that they think I could do this. But the truth is, they have every right to suspect me. Especially since I have absolutely no idea what I was doing during the time Amka left the library. “We don’t think you stole it,” Uncle Finn tells me in a voice I recognize as deliberately soothing. “But we do think something is going on inside you that makes you do these things, and that’s what we want to try to figure out so we can help you.” “Do we really know?” I ask, my voice coming out higher and louder than I want it to. “I mean, are you sure I’m the one who did this?” It’s not even that I doubt them, it’s just that I don’t want to believe them. Because then I have to start wondering. What kind of powers does this gargoyle inside me have? And why is it using me to do these terrible things? Jaxon wraps a supportive arm around my waist, then rests his chin on my shoulder as he whispers in my ear, “It’s okay. We’ve got this.” I’m glad he thinks so, because right now, it doesn’t feel like I’ve got anything. “That’s why we wanted you to come here, so we could all rewatch the footage together. See if we can figure out what’s really going on.” My uncle walks behind the circulation desk. “Nobody blames you, Grace,” Macy says with a reassuring smile. “We know something else is going on.” My knees get weak at theirs words—there’s footage?—and at the grim look on my uncle’s face. Because if they’ve seen the footage already, then they know for sure that I’m the one who stole the athame. says, “You can do this; it’s just clear you need someone with a little more…expertise.” Screw the candle. My face feels like it’s on fire. “Grace, are we doing this or not?” Macy asks. “Not,” I answer. “I can’t figure out what to do.” “Nobody knows how at the beginning,” Hudson says as he walks over to stand a foot to my side. “You can do this. I promise.” I turn to face him more fully. “You can’t promise that. You don’t know—” He gives me a soft smile. “I do know.” “How?” I ask, my voice breaking. “Because I won’t let you fail.” He nods to Macy. “Tell her to try again.” I hold his gaze, then take a deep breath. I swivel my head toward Macy. “Hudson says we should try once more, Mace,” I tell my cousin. “And then I’m calling it quits.” “O-kay,” she says, clearly not sure if she should be glad Hudson is encouraging me to try again or not. “Once more.” And then her eyes do that weird glowy thing as she sends another burst of power my way. “Ready?” Hudson asks, a grin slowly spreading across his face that sets butterflies loose in my stomach. “Ready for what?” He snaps his fingers. “For this.”Ancient isn’t the same as old,” Jaxon says to her, and I can tell from his voice that he means it. And also that he admires her a great deal, even if he doesn’t trust her completely. “Always such a charmer.” She stands up, her gaze meeting mine for the first time. “But I’m guessing you already know that.” I nod, more cognizant than ever of Jaxon’s warning to let him do the talking. Because while the Bloodletter might look like the sweetest grandma ever, her green eyes gleam with shrewdness—and more than a little bit of avarice—as she looks me over. Add in the fact that I can see the tips of her fangs glowing against her bottom lip in the firelight, and I’m beginning to feel a little bit like a fly to the proverbial spider. “You brought your mate,” she tells him with an arch look, one that speaks volumes I don’t begin to understand. “I did,” he replies. “Well, let me get a look at her, then.” She walks forward, pressing a hand to the side of Jaxon’s biceps in an effort to guide him over a few steps. Jaxon doesn’t budge, which makes the Bloodletter laugh, a bright, colorful sound that echoes off the vaulted ceilings and ice-hard walls. “That’s my boy,” she says. “Always the overprotective one. But I can assure you this time, there’s no need.” Again, she presses on his biceps in a very obvious “scoot over a little” gesture. Again, he doesn’t move so much as an inch. Annoyance replaces amusement in her bright-green eyes, Flint relaxes a little at my words, and so does Jaxon, but they both keep wary eyes on me. As does Macy, who has been uncharacteristically quiet since the whole magic-channeling thing happened. And while I appreciate the fact that all three of them are only looking out for me in their own ways, I also have to admit that the overprotectiveness is going to exhaust my patience sooner rather than later. Macy must sense it, because out of the blue, she suddenly suggests, “Hey, why don’t you guys go flying?” “Flying?” I ask, because just the thought of it makes me nervous. “Yes, flying. It’s another one of those powers gargoyles have,” she tells me. “And the one power we knew about before we even started researching. So why don’t you take Flint up on his offer to teach you and just go for it?” “I don’t know, Macy,” Jaxon says out of nowhere. “Grace has already had to deal with a lot today and—” Just that easily, I make my decision. Maybe it’s contrary— okay, it’s probably contrary—but Jaxon doesn’t get to decide what I do or when I do it. The guy is a bulldozer, especially with the people he feels responsible for. If I give him an inch, he’ll take seven miles…and then start inquiring about mineral and air rights. “I’d love to go flying, Flint!” I say with an enthusiasm that is at least partially fake. “But I think we should come up with a plan before we do anything else.” “I think that’s a good idea,” Macy agrees. “I mean, how many days do we have left before Hudson gives up on wandering to other parts of your brain and decides to just go This isn’t something you can fix. It’s just something you have to endure. Whatever happens next, I promise I won’t blame you for it.”

Crush - Tracy Wolff - Google Books Crush - Tracy Wolff - Google Books

This is disappointing mostly because I wanted a little bit more with her and Jaxon. Crave was filled with so many swoon-worthy moments between the two of them that, while I get that this book had bigger issues to deal with than romance, I missed the intimacy and reminders of why these two individuals work so well together. Described as a paranormal fantasy with a feminist perspective, Crave follows a human girl follows a human girl who finds herself in the midst of a conflict between warring factions when she falls for a vampire prince, Jaxon Vega. According to Entangled Publishing’s Liz Pelletier, the new supernatural novel is pitched as “vampires for a new generation.” the way I do when we’re outside. I like being able to see his face, like even more being able to gauge his reaction to my words. “I wanted to show you the view. And I thought you might like a break.” “A break? We’ve only been moving a few minutes.” His grin becomes a laugh. “It’s been more like an hour and a half. And we’ve gone almost three hundred miles.” “Three hundred miles? But that means we’ve been traveling at close to—” “Two hundred miles an hour, yeah. Fading is more than just movement. I don’t know how to describe it; it’s kind of like flying—without a body. Every vampire starts practicing it at a young age, but I was always very, very good at it.” He looks like a little kid, absurdly proud of himself. “That’s…incredible.” No wonder I was having such a hard time holding on to images and thoughts as Jaxon faded. We weren’t so much moving as bending reality. As I turn all this information over in my head, I can’t help thinking about a book I read in seventh grade, Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. In it, he talks about people driving cars superfast on the regular highways—like 130 miles an hour fast —and the government condoning it, because it keeps people from thinking. They have to concentrate on driving, and not dying, to the exclusion of everything else. It felt a little like that when Jaxon was fading. Like everything else in my life, even the bad stuff, just disappeared, leaving only the most basic survival instincts in its place. I know Bradbury meant his book to be a warning, but fading is so cool that I can’t help wondering how Jaxon feels about it. I’m also happy to say that, along with that journey, is an even more explicit endeavor for Grace to assert independence and agency. When it first came out, Crave prided itself on being a more feminist and inclusive vampire novel but, for a lot of it, Grace is kept in the dark. She’s frustratingly aloof and while she doesn’t necessarily rely on others for everything, she doesn’t show that she has all that much agency either. questions/comments to start with, I say the first thing that pops into my head. “You changed your hair.” “What? Oh yeah.” She grins at me as she runs a hand through her short pink pixie cut. “I did it a few weeks ago when I was missing you. Kind of an homage, you know?” Of course it’s an homage, because she still thinks hot pink is my favorite color… “It looks fabulous,” I tell her. Because it does. And because she’s pretty much the greatest cousin and friend a girl could ever wish for. “So what class do you have next?” she asks, tugging me across the foyer toward the staircase. “Because I think you should blow it off and come hang in the room with me.” “Don’t you have a class now, too?” “Yes, but it’s just a review for the midterm on Friday.” She waves a hand in the air. “I can skip it to hang with my favorite cousin.” “Yeah, but your favorite cousin has art right now, and I don’t think I should skip it. I need to find out if there’s something I can do to make up for everything I missed.” I eye her ruefully. “I am not prepared to repeat my senior year.” “If you ask me, you shouldn’t have to make up anything. I mean, hello. Saving the world should get you straight A’s, like, forever.” I laugh, because it’s impossible not to when Macy is on a roll. And she is very definitely on a roll right now. “I wouldn’t exactly call it saving the world.” “You got rid of Hudson, didn’t you? It’s close enough.” My stomach tightens. That’s the thing. I don’t know if I gotI’m Going to Wash That Psychopath Right Out of My Hair The Bloodletter assesses me for several seconds before she answers. “Every single paranormal finds a different way to build a shield inside them. They do what feels natural—what feels right—to them as they explore and grow into their powers. “At a different time, that’s how you would learn to build your wall. As a shield to keep your powers from adversely affecting the people around you.” “But I don’t have any powers,” I tell her, more than a little confused. “I mean, except the ability to turn to stone. I’m still skeptical on the flying part.” She smiles a little at that and shakes her head. “You have more power than you know, Grace. You just have to find it.” I have no idea what that means, but at this point, I’m willing to try anything. Especially if it means Hudson can’t hurt Jaxon again—or anyone else. “Is that how I build the wall or the shield or whatever you want to call it? By channeling my power?” “Not this time. Because you’re not trying to keep your powers in. You’re trying to separate yourself and your powers from Hudson and his powers. So while we would normally be talking about a shield, right now, we have to talk about a No,” I answer. But I keep walking forward. Because some days, what a girl wants to do and what she needs to do are two very different things. What are we supposed to protect?” I ask, blood humming with the promise of what’s to come. “Magic itself,” Jaxon tells me. “And all the factions who wield it in all their different ways.” “So not just witch magic, then.” “No, not just the witches. Gargoyles kept the balance among all the paranormals—vampires and werewolves, witches and dragons.” He pauses. “Mermaids and selkies and every other not-just-human creature on the planet—and also humans.” “But why did your father kill the gargoyles, then? If they were the ones keeping everything balanced, why would he want to get rid of them?” “Power,” Jaxon says. “He and my mother wanted more power, power they couldn’t just take with the gargoyles watching. And now they have it. They sit at the head of the Circle—” “Amka mentioned the Circle to me. What is it?” I ask. “The Circle is the ruling body that governs paranormals all over the world. My parents have the highest positions of power on the council, positions they inherited when my father instigated the destruction of all the gargoyles,” Jaxon explains. “He instigated the murdering of all the gargoyles,” Hudson says from where he’s still near the window, “because he convinced his allies that the humans were planning another war, used the Salem Witch Trials to prove his point. And gargoyles were going to side with them.” “He killed them all because of a war that never happened?”

The Crave Series | Tracy Wolff

The race is on for Grace to figure out just how to regain her independence (without putting the rest of the world at risk) while dealing with the aftermath of Hudson’s return and the secrets he insists on exposing. Further still, she must also come to terms with her newfound gargoyle self and learn just what it means to be a rare treasure in the paranormal world.Common Sense is the nation's leading nonprofit organization dedicated to improving the lives of all kids and families by providing the trustworthy information, education, and independent voice they need to thrive in the 21st century. In true Crave series fashion, Crush is full of delicious twists and turns that will leave you yearning for more, especially when it comes to the ending. I only just finished Crush and am already dying to sink my teeth into the next installment. (It’s a good thing Covet, the third book, is supposedly only six months away!) Enough,” I manage to wheeze out between coughs. “Is it enough?” the Bloodletter asks in a voice as cold as the Alaskan wilderness she has made her home. “Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?” No, I don’t. Not even a little bit. But I’m afraid if I tell her that, I’m going to end up buried under a thousand pounds of sand, so I just nod. But I do try to focus, not just on what she’s saying but on the deeper meaning of what she wants me to understand. Her gaze holds mine, her green eyes urging me to think beyond my simple understanding of the world. To recognize that some things have to be believed to be understood instead of the other way around. It’s a leap of faith, one I’m not sure I’m comfortable making after everything that’s already happened. But what other choice do I have? I can believe or I can get swept away —not just by the sand she is continuing to blow my way but by Hudson’s dark and overwhelming will. I swallow, knowing there really is no other option for me. And so I close my eyes, lower my defenses just a little, and let her words swirl in my mind, settle in my bones, become my reality. The moment I do, the illusion of this world fades into something that feels even more right. Something that feels like coming home. Suddenly, there’s another voice in my head, and it’s not the one I’m used to, the one that warns me of bad things to come. No, this voice is low and sardonic. It’s also familiar—really familiar. Don’t do it, Grace,” Hudson tells me. “You can’t trust her.” Maybe not, but I can’t trust you, either, so I’m going to go with the person who can help me the most. “This is not how things were supposed to happen.” He shakes his head. “Why won’t you trust me?” Maybe because you’re a raging psychopath, and I am tired of doing your bidding. I turn to the Bloodletter. “I’m ready. Show me how to build the wall.”

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wrong with me, considering when I got to Katmere Academy, all I wanted was to be on my own, and now I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin. Finally, I decide to take a shower so I can go to bed, but I’m halfway to the bathroom, pajamas in my hand, when I realize I can’t do that. Last night when I showered, Hudson was asleep. Tonight, he isn’t. He’s being unnaturally quiet and hasn’t said a word to me since Jaxon’s outburst in the library, but he’s sprawled out on Macy’s bed reading—I stretch a little bit to get a look at the front of his book—Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky, and I wonder idly if he relates to Rodion, who ends up killing people for his own selfish needs. I hesitate. I want to wash my hair, but there’s no way I’m going to strip naked and take a shower with him watching me, whether he seems like he’s reading or not. How could he not see me naked if I can see myself naked? I mean, he’s in my head. “I wouldn’t do that.” I nearly jump when Hudson finally speaks to me out of the blue. He’s still on Macy’s bed, with his ankles crossed and his arms folded beneath his head, but now his book is lying across his chest. There are a million other questions I want to ask him— namely what made him so upset that he shut down to begin with—but I settle for asking about his immediate statement first. “What do you mean?” “I wouldn’t watch you take a shower or get undressed. You don’t have to worry about that.” “Yeah, but how could you not watch? You’re literally in Even Hudson gives a shout from behind me, his arms reaching around my waist and tugging me against his chest as though to protect me.”There are a total of 126 chapters in Crush (125 from Grace's perspective, 1 from Hudson's perspective), not counting the two bonus chapters at the end of the book.